Chapter 3
TANYA
Silvyr's silver skin flickered like a bad connection, patches of him dissolving into static then reforming.
I'd seen tech fail before, but never like this…
never watching someone glitch between existence and nothingness.
His eyes, those eerie pools of liquid silver code, fixed on me with a mixture of resignation and distrust as I dragged him further into the belly of the derelict cargo hauler.
His left arm was completely gone, his right leg unstable, and his chest panel cracked open to expose a complex mesh of circuitry and what looked disturbingly like organic tissue.
He was dying, and he knew it. I refused to accept it.
"Stop moving," I ordered, propping him against a relatively stable section of bulkhead. "You're just accelerating the degradation."
"Unqualified organic maintenance will not improve my condition." His voice fluctuated between smooth synthetic tones and jarring static. "My systems require specialized calibration that—"
"That nobody alive knows how to do. Yeah, I heard you the first time.
" I dug through my equipment bag, thanking whatever digital gods existed that I'd packed my emergency kit before the IDA goons had busted down my door, and Silvyr had blipped us off to this forsaken place.
"Good news," I muttered, pulling out my multi-tool and portable terminal, "I'm excellent at fixing things that are technically out of warranty. "
He didn't laugh. Instead, his face twitched in what might have been an attempt at skepticism, corrupted by a glitch that momentarily transformed his features into a pixelated mess. "Your confidence is mathematically unfounded."
"And your attitude isn't helping your survival odds.
" I knelt beside him, examining the exposed circuitry in his chest. The complexity made my breath catch.
Layered systems that looked organic and mechanical simultaneously pulsed with faint silver light that dimmed with each passing second.
Not like any tech I'd ever hacked, but tech nonetheless. And tech could be fixed.
Silvyr's head tilted back against the wall, his eyes flickering between code and irises. "You cannot repair what you do not understand."
"Watch me." I pulled out a thin diagnostic cable from my terminal and examined his damaged form for a port connection. His right arm seemed the most stable, so I gently lifted it, ignoring his wince. "Any input jacks, or do I need to get creative?"
He sighed, a strangely human sound from something so alien. A small panel on his forearm slid open, revealing a port that looked almost—but not quite—like standard tech. "It will not be compatible with—"
I was already adapter-hacking my cable, stripping and twisting wires with the speed of someone who'd spent a lifetime making incompatible systems talk to each other. "Adaptability is my superpower," I muttered, bending to examine the connection more closely.
As my fingers brushed against the metal of his forearm, something extraordinary happened.
A swarm of tiny, glowing objects erupted from beneath his skin, hovering in the air around us like luminous fireflies.
Each one projected a miniature hologram…
a heart emoji. Several of them. Pulsing in time with the light in his chest.
"What the—" I jerked back in surprise.
The tiny drones adjusted their position, maintaining a loose cloud around us. As I stared, the emoji shifted from a heart to a shocked face, then back again.
Silvyr's expression had gone rigid, a flush of silver light spreading beneath his synthetic skin. "A system malfunction. Disregard."
"These are emoji mood lights?" I couldn't keep the delight from my voice as I tentatively reached toward one of the drones. It drifted closer to my fingertips, projecting a curious face.
"They are diagnostic indicators," he replied stiffly, "not feelings. An outdated subroutine that should have been deactivated centuries ago."
"Uh-huh," I said, grinning. "And I'm not human, I'm just a firmware update."
I connected my terminal to his port, watching as streams of incomprehensible data flooded my screen.
While my system attempted to translate the alien code, I gently pressed my fingers against his throat, checking for what might be a pulse point.
More drones burst forth, these displaying blushing emojis that pulsed with increasing intensity.
"Your code is unlike anything I've seen before," I murmured, distracted by both the technical challenge and the warm sensation beneath my fingertips. His skin wasn't cold like metal or plastic… it was warm, vibrant, alive despite its artificial nature. "It's almost like it's evolving as I watch."
"It is degrading," he corrected, his voice barely above a whisper. "My base system was designed to integrate with organic matter, creating a hybrid consciousness. Without proper maintenance, the integration degrades, causing cascading failures."
My hand moved to his chest, palm flattening against the damaged panel to check for vibrations. Instantly, a new wave of drones emerged, these displaying smug smiling emojis that made my cheeks heat despite myself.
"These little guys sure seem to have opinions," I said, trying to sound professional despite the swarm of emoji drones now creating a glowing halo around us.
One drone, slightly smaller than the others, tilted toward my face as if examining me. It projected a bright shooting star emoji that shifted to a heart as I watched. Unlike the others, which maintained a respectful distance, this one drifted closer until it was almost touching my cheek.
I tapped it gently with my finger. "You're adorable. I'm naming you Pixel."
The drone emitted a pleased chirp and immediately perched near my shoulder, flashing heart emojis repeatedly. Silvyr made a strangled noise that might have been dismay.
"You cannot name a diagnostic subroutine," he protested.
"Already did." I returned my attention to the terminal, scrolling through the alien code while Pixel nuzzled against my ear like a mechanical kitten.
"Your base code is incredible. There are algorithms here I've never seen before, but I recognize patterns.
.. like they're speaking a dialect of a language I know. "
More drones emerged as I worked, reacting to each touch, each shift in position. When I accidentally brushed against his thigh while adjusting my terminal, a swarm of fire emojis briefly filled the air before he forcibly dismissed them with a wave of his functioning hand.
"Your presence is affecting my calibration," he said, voice tight.
"Good." I glanced up from the terminal with a smirk. "Your calibration was clearly shit if you were planning to just power down and give up."
The air between us thickened with warmth and static. My terminal beeped, drawing my attention to a section of code that had begun to stabilize. "There," I pointed. "That subroutine is self-repairing. If I can isolate it and amplify the pattern..."
I leaned closer, my face inches from his as I worked. Each new touch drew more drones from Silvyr's body until we were surrounded by a halo of glowing, expressive lights. They created an intimate atmosphere in the hollow belly of the derelict ship, like stars contained in our own private universe.
"There's organic components in your system," I murmured, fascinated by what I was discovering. "Not just mechanical. It's like... symbiosis. But there's still a double helix structure."
"Yes." His voice had glitched into a low purr, his eyes fixed on my face with an intensity that made my skin tingle. "In a way, genius." The light beneath his skin dimmed slightly. "But also sadistic."
Something in his tone made my chest ache. I returned to the code, working faster, driven by a determination I couldn't fully explain. This wasn't just about surviving anymore. This was about refusing to let the last of something beautiful disappear from the universe.
"You are rewriting my calibration tables," he said softly, leaning closer until I could feel the strange energy field that surrounded him brushing against my skin.
My pulse stuttered. The drones around us pulsed in sync, their emojis shifting to hearts and stars. I tilted toward him, suddenly desperate to know if kissing an alien made of starlight felt as good as it looked—
An alarm blared through the hauler, shrill and unmistakable. A proximity alert.
"Shit!" I jerked back, my terminal still connected to Silvyr's arm. "What is that?"
"Scavengers." He pushed himself to his feet despite the instability in his legs, systems visibly struggling to maintain cohesion. "This region of the scrapyard is claimed territory. They will have detected our crash."
The drones scattered in alarm, their emojis shifting to exclamation marks and terrified faces. Only Pixel remained steadfast at my shoulder, projecting a determined angry faced emoji.
"How many?" I yanked my terminal free, shoving it into my bag.
"Scanning..." Silvyr's eyes went blank for a moment, scrolling with code. "Multiple life signs. Armed. Moving quickly."
"Can you fight?" I glanced at his missing arm and unstable leg.
"I can kill," he corrected, his voice suddenly cold and mechanical. "The question is whether I can stop."
That probably should have terrified me, but instead, I found myself grinning. "Perfect."
I grabbed a length of metal pipe that had broken off during our crash, testing its weight. Heavy enough to crack skulls, light enough to swing fast. Silvyr moved in front of me protectively as the sound of boot steps approached from the corridor.
"You take left," I shouted, "I'll insult the rest."
The hatch burst open and chaos erupted. Five scavengers poured through, equipped with mining tools repurposed as weapons and patched-together environment suits.
Silvyr moved with lethal precision despite his damaged state, silver light extending from his remaining arm to form a blade-like projection.
He cut through the first attacker's suit before the man could even raise his weapon.
I swung my pipe at the closest scavenger, catching him across the midsection and sending him staggering back. "Is that environment suit vintage or just garbage?" I taunted, ducking under a wild swing from another. "Because it smells like both!"
Pixel darted through the air, surprisingly aggressive for something so small.
It zipped toward a scavenger aiming a laser cutter at my back, projecting an angry face emoji before discharging a small electrical shock directly into the exposed wiring of the man's helmet.
The scavenger yelped, his weapon discharging harmlessly into the ceiling.
"Good Pixel!" I shouted, swinging my pipe again to connect with a satisfying crunch against another attacker's arm.
Silvyr moved like liquid lightning, his damaged form somehow more terrifying for its instability.
One moment solid, the next dissolving into deadly streams of code that flowed around weapons and solidified to strike.
Despite missing limbs and system failures, he was magnificent…
horrifying and beautiful in equal measure.
"Your ally is not human," one of the scavengers snarled through his helmet speaker, backing away from Silvyr.
"No shit," I laughed, the adrenaline making me reckless. "And neither is his temper, so maybe fuck off while your atoms are still where you left them?"
The scavengers exchanged glances, clearly reassessing the situation. Their leader barked an order in a language I didn't understand, and they began a hasty retreat, dragging their wounded comrades.
"This isn't over," the last one threatened from the hatchway. "That tech is valuable. We'll be back with reinforcements."
"Looking forward to disappointing you again." I called after them, brandishing my pipe.
When the last scavenger fled, the ship was half-lit, half-destroyed, and I found myself laughing breathlessly. My hands shook with leftover adrenaline, my heart pounding against my ribs. Pixel zoomed triumphantly around my head before settling back on my shoulder.
"Well done," I told it, scooping the little drone into my palm. "Looks like I've got a new little buddy."
The drone spun in place, flashing a cool face in sunglasses and heart emojis in reply.
I glanced at Silvyr, who had collapsed back against the wall, his systems clearly taxed by the exertion.
But he was smiling faintly, an expression that transformed his alien features into something startlingly human.
"You attract trouble and loyalty in equal measure," he murmured, his voice steadier than before. The fight had actually seemed to stabilize his systems temporarily, giving his form more solidity than it had since our crash.
I grinned back, feeling the electricity humming between us just as strongly as before the interruption. "Yeah," I said, stepping closer until I could see the code flowing beneath his skin, "seems to be my type."
His eyes met mine, silver irises ringed with scrolling data. The emoji drones slowly reemerged, filling the space between us with soft light and revealing emotions he couldn't, or wouldn't, express directly.
"We should leave," he said, though he made no move to create distance between us. "The scavengers will return."
"Let them," I replied, reaching out to trace the edge of his damaged chest panel with my fingertips. "I've got work to do first."
The drones pulsed with heart emojis as I connected my terminal once more to his arm port. This time, he didn't protest. Instead, he watched me with an expression I couldn't quite read… something between wonder and fear, as if I were both salvation and danger rolled into one.
Maybe I was. Maybe we both were.
Either way, I wasn't letting him power down. Not now. Not ever.