“Come with me,” I said, my voice gentler than I’d intended. “I will take you to your quarters.”
Jolie hesitated for only a heartbeat, her gaze sweeping the cargo bay as if memorizing every detail, before falling into step behind me.
I made to lead them toward the guest quarters where most rescued humans stayed, but something I neither recognized nor could explain made me veer toward the crew quarters instead. Specifically toward the chamber kept empty in case the king and queen traveled with us. That it happened to be adjacent to my own quarters had absolutely no bearing on my decision. At least that’s what I told myself, even as the need to keep them close burned through my veins like molten metal.
I waved my hand over the biometric sensor panel, watching as blue light scanned my palm before the heavy door whispered open, drawing sharp gasps of wonder from my guests.
The royal chamber stretched before us, a palace suite transplanted among the stars. Pale walls curved gracefully upward in sweeping arcs, surfaces embedded with intricate veins of precious metals that caught and refracted the light. The floor beneath our feet was crafted from polished stone, infused with bioluminescent minerals.
Furniture floated at perfect heights throughout the space, each piece suspended by individual gravitational fields and upholstered in rich fabrics that shifted color subtly as the light played across their surfaces—deep sapphire melting into emerald, then warming to burnished gold. A massive bed dominated the far wall, the headboard carved from a single piece of fossilized heartwood from the legendary singing trees of Zarpazia. Gossamer curtains, which moved with no discerniblebreeze, created an ethereal canopy, the fabric seeming to twinkle with starlight.
The ceiling was perhaps the most breathtaking feature. A transparent dome of reinforced crystal that could display either the infinite star field stretching beyond the ship’s hull or holographic scenes of peaceful landscapes from dozens of worlds, complete with the gentle sounds of alien winds and distant birdsong.
“I told you that you could be a princess,” I said softly, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips as I watched Lilibet’s reaction.
The youngling squealed in pure delight, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she wriggled from Jolie’s embrace to bounce about the room like a tiny whirlwind, her small hands trailing over every surface with wonder.
“Until we clear the space station’s jurisdiction, I think it would be safest for you both to remain in these quarters,” I hated asking this of them—Jolie and Lilibet had been prisoners for far too long already, and here I was, essentially confining them again, even if it was in luxury. “My crew is completely trustworthy, but the dockmaster retains the right to board and inspect any vessel until we’re beyond the station’s boundaries.”
Jolie nodded absently, her deep brown eyes still traveling over the room, drinking in the details as if she couldn’t quite believe they were real.
“The bathing facilities are through that archway,” I said, gesturing toward an opening to the right. “I’ll have food and new clothing delivered shortly.” They both wore oversized cloaks of rough-woven fabric. The kind favored by the poor and homeless throughout the galaxy, chosen no doubt to help them blend in and escape notice.
Jolie’s eyes met mine, and I saw them glittering with unshed tears. “Do you have clothes that will fit us?”
“TheEden’sprimary mission is human rescue operations,” I explained, my voice roughening slightly with emotion I hadn’t expected. “Our queen made certain to have clothing in all sizes kept aboard, so that those we rescued would have comfort from the moment they stepped onto our ship.”
Something flickered across Jolie’s expression—relief, followed by gratitude so profound it made my chest tighten, and beneath it all, something else I couldn’t quite name but that made my scales prickle with awareness. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick.
I felt the touch of her fingertips against my forearm, feather-light, and hesitant. My scales responded instantly, rippling in waves of sensation that traveled up my arm and across my shoulders.
“Anything you need,” I said, the words weighted with a promise that went far deeper than simple hospitality. “Anything at all—food, clothing, medical attention, or simply someone to talk to—press the blue button on the communication panel beside the door. It will connect you directly to the bridge, and I’ll respond immediately.”
“Thank you,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper, before turning her attention to where Lilibet bounced in the middle of the enormous bed.
I found it unexpectedly difficult to force my feet to carry me toward the door, as if some invisible force was trying to root me to the spot. At the thought of leaving them, something twisted deep in my gut—a surge of protectiveness unlike anything I’d ever experienced, primal and fierce and utterly consuming. The ache to return to their side, to stand guard over them, followed me like a shadow all the way through the ship’s corridors to the bridge.
“Report?” I commanded. My voice cut through the ambient hum of the engines as I strode toward my chair.
The bridge stretched out before me in a circular design, a testament to both form and function. My captain’s chair sat positioned at the center of a raised platform that offered commanding views in every direction. The metal deck plates beneath my feet gleamed under the soft illumination, the surface etched with intricate patterns that provided grip during combat maneuvers while channeling energy conduits throughout the ship’s structure.
Control stations ringed the bridge’s perimeter, each one customized for a specific function. The helm station featured twin pilot seats upholstered in adaptive memory foam that molded to each occupant’s physiology, while neural interface headsets hung ready to provide direct connection to the ship’s navigation systems. Holographic displays materialized in the air around each station, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the faces of my crew members.
The forward viewport dominated the front wall like a massive eye gazing into the infinite—a seamless expanse of transparent aluminum that provided an unobstructed view of the star field stretching endlessly ahead through the space station’s viewport. Distant suns glittered like scattered diamonds against the darkness of space, the light creating subtle prismatic effects as it passed through the viewport’s advanced filtering systems. When tactical situations demanded it, targeting displays, navigation charts, or magnified images, overlaid the viewport, transforming the peaceful vista into a battlefield map.
“All eighty-two crew members have returned and reported to stations, Captain,” my first mate Merkit reported, coming to stand by my side. He stood as tall as me but lacked the thick muscle mass that came from years of intensive training. His background lay in the sciences rather than the brutal warrior conditioning I had endured. His scales created a landscape ofdifferent shades of green across his lean frame, from deep forest hues to lighter emerald tones. Bright red highlights blazed across his chest and shoulders like war paint. A crimson shade that was perfectly echoed in the color of his hair, which he wore pulled into a high topknot that emphasized the sharp angles of his features.
“Pilot,” I turned my attention to Yanku. Despite being the youngest member of my crew, his piloting skills were legendary—second to none in the entire fleet. His deep green hair fell in waves to his shoulders, with a rebellious lock perpetually falling across his forehead, giving him an almost boyish appearance. “Take us out of the docking bay and set a course for Zarpazia.” The lock of hair shifted as he nodded, his hands already dancing across the controls.
“Cumar,” I addressed my communications officer, whose imposing frame dominated his station. His scales formed a striking pattern of purple and yellow that rippled across his massive shoulders and arms, while he wore his deep purple hair cropped short. Like me, he had served as part of the queen’s personal guard before her downfall. “Contact the Alliance and request an encrypted comm with either the Prime or Ambassador Khaion—whichever one is available the quickest.”
“What is this special mission?” Merkit inquired. His gaze remained fixed on the datapad clutched in his hands as the ship’s massive engines rumbled to life, the harmonic vibrations traveling through the deck plates and into our bones.
“A rescue,” I replied, my voice carefully modulated as I glanced around the bridge. My crew was hand-picked, each member chosen for their skill, dedication, and unwavering loyalty. I trusted each one implicitly. “We will need Alliance assistance to extract a human and youngling from the reach of the Kwado prince.”
“The Kwado?” Merkit’s head snapped up, his deep red eyes narrowing as the implication hit him. “The human and youngling that the Wojonik search for?”
My nod was sharp and jerky, barely controlled anger radiating from every pore of my body. “They are safe now, and I intend to keep them that way.”
