Chapter 7 #2
I followed Tyrk through the dimly lit interior of the ship, my gaze lingering on Quin as we passed.
She looked up from her device and offered a small smile that sent warmth spreading through my chest. I nodded in return, my hearts thundering with renewed intensity at the simple gesture.
After my conversation with Tyrk, I understood now that she must choose me freely.
She was not Valosian, not governed by a biological bond.
If we were to be together, it would be because she wanted me, not because fate had decided.
The door leading to the corridor had buckled partway open in its frame from the crash, forcing us to turn sideways to squeeze through.
The ship groaned around us, metal protesting as it settled.
I kept one hand on the wall to steady myself, my scales shifting to match the dull silver of the metal beneath my palm.
"Not much better in here," Tyrk observed as we entered the galley.
The small room was in disarray. Cabinets had slid open; their contents spilled across the floor. The replicator unit sat dark and silent in the corner, its surface cracked from the impact. Tyrk moved to it immediately, his massive hands working the controls with surprising delicacy.
"It's completely dead," he muttered, dragging two fingers across the replicator's panel.
The surface stayed dark beneath his touch, not even a flicker of response.
"The crash must've burned out the matter conversion matrix when the conduits overloaded.
Even with power rerouted to the unit, the internal fabricators aren't responding. "
I surveyed the damage, noting the scattered containers and broken storage units. "What about rations?"
"In there," Tyrk said, pointing to a cabinet that had taken the brunt of the impact on one side, its paneling buckled and warped but the door still shut. "If we're lucky, some survived the crash."
I forced the door open with both hands, the frame grinding against itself as it gave way.
"Fucking Helios!" I cursed and immediately recoiled as a sharp, acrid stench rolled out to greet me.
Inside, many of the silver pouches had burst, their contents fused into a dark, reeking mass along the crushed side of the cabinet.
Tyrk came up beside me, immediately covering his nose and mouth with one hand against the foul odor. He leaned closer, examining the warped interior paneling with a grimace.
"Nutrient packs are stored in a stasis-rich nitrogen suspension to prevent biological decay during long-range travel.
When the containment field failed, the preservation gas destabilized.
" He nudged one of the swollen silver pouches with visible disgust. "The organic compounds inside broke down almost immediately once exposed to the gas. "
He pointed to the sealed packs near the back of the cabinet.
“Those might still be uncontaminated if the seals held.” Tyrk reached in, sorting through the crushed and leaking containers until he retrieved several intact silver ration packs.
He examined each seal beneath the emergency lighting before passing them to me one at a time, turning the last one over in his hands with a satisfied grunt. “These are still viable.”
“Seven pouches of rations, three of lood, and nine of us,” I said, counting the intact pouches.
Tyrk frowned, scratching the base of one horn. “Ruze and I can share one, but we’ll need to hunt soon and find a water source.” He glanced at me, his expression serious. “I hope the replicator on Vala’s ship is operational.”
“We will manage,” I said firmly. “We have survived worse.”
We gathered the rations and made our way back through the corridor to the command deck, where I distributed a pouch to each person while Tyrk passed the lood around for all to share.
Mara took hers with a grateful nod and immediately moved to help Brunnex with his.
Brooke accepted hers with a smile. Truxxet nodded his thanks.
Vala held up a hand when Tyrk offered him a pouch. “Replicator not working? Save it. We may need it if those creatures come back and prevent us from reaching my ship in the morning.”
“The matter conversion matrix burned out when the conduits overloaded,” Tyrk mumbled.
“My replicator is working, but we will need as much rillium as you have to power my ship while we make repairs,” Vala said, glancing toward the darkened viewport, jaw tightening. “I’m trying to save what little tellic I have to hyper-jump us through the distortion that dragged us down here.”
“Any idea what caused it?” Tyrk asked as he squatted beside the Yulineon.
“It wasn’t a storm front or ionized nebula,” Vala replied grimly.
“The distortion behaved like a collapsing gravitational fold. One moment, space was stable, and the next, the navigational field around us warped inward and dragged my ship off trajectory.” He rubbed tiredly at his jaw.
“My scanners were damaged in the crash, so I have only been able to retrieve fragmented readings, but the anomaly appeared to pulse in irregular waves, almost as though the distortion was reacting to our engines.” His expression darkened.
“I fear if we launch without enough power, the fold will seize the ship again before we can break free of its pull.”
“A gravitational shear?” he suggested. “Or some kind of unstable spatial compression field? If a dense pocket of distorted space formed around the planet, it could have disrupted the navigational arrays and dragged both ships through the veil.”
“That was my first thought, but the sensor readings make no sense. The distortion isn’t behaving like a natural phenomenon.
” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“The field pulses intermittently, almost like it’s alive or reacting to nearby energy signatures.
Every time we tried to stabilize our trajectory, the distortion shifted and pulled harder. ”
“A sentient anomaly?” Tyrk muttered uneasily.
“Or artificial,” Vala said grimly. “Generating localized tears in space-time.”
“Ruze and I will pack what we have of rillium before dawn breaks,” Tyrk said, his voice low and even. “The tellic we have is yours too.”
I left them to their tech talk. The finer points of power rerouting and rillium reserves were beyond me. I was a warrior, not a scholar, but I understood enough to know our situation was dire.
I carried the last pouch over to Quin. She looked up as I drew near, her eyes brightening when she saw what I carried.
“Is that food?” she asked, hope evident in her voice.
“Rations,” I confirmed, holding out the pouch. “The replicator is damaged, but we found these intact. The lood is being passed around to share.”
“Lood?” Her brow creased. “My translator says that’s the Valosian equivalent of water.”
I nodded, having heard the same thing from the human females now living under the safety of the dome in the city of Huren.
She accepted the pouch, and her fingertips brushed mine in the exchange.
The fleeting contact sent a violent jolt through my body.
Silver rippled across my scales before deepening into rich shades of blue, the color shift spreading over my hands and forearms in instinctive response to my spirit mate’s touch.
“Thanks,” she said. “I was getting pretty hungry.”
I nodded, suddenly incapable of forming coherent words as I watched her open the pouch.
She studied the ration bar with cautious curiosity before taking a small bite, and I found myself absurdly fixated on the movement of her lips.
My ancillary heart pounded heavily against my ribs while my spirit strained toward her with aching intensity.
“It’s not bad,” she said after a moment. “Kinda tastes like... I don’t know, protein and vague sweetness?”
I took a seat next to her on the floor. The simple act of knowing I had provided for her satisfied a primal instinct within me, easing the sting that had been building since my spirit had called out to hers and found only silence in return.
“What about you?” she asked, looking over at me. “Aren’t you hungry?”
The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t considered my own needs, only concerned with hers. “I will eat later,” I said.
Her brow furrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
Before I could respond, she reached into the pouch, pulled out a ration bar, and pressed it into my hand. “Eat,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I stared at the offering, touched by the gesture. On Valose, males provided for their females. The reversal felt strange, yet I couldn’t deny the warmth it kindled in my chest.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the food.