“That’s why we need volume.” Naran’s smile had vanished. “Science requires data. Data requires samples. Sentiment has no place in survival.”
Sentiment. As if the lives of the females were nothing more than emotional weakness to be overcome.
“And the females themselves?” He couldn’t stop the question. “What happens to them after they’ve… served their purpose?”
Naran’s expression flickered. Something cold and calculating passed behind his eyes before it smoothed into neutrality. “That will be determined by circumstances. The healthy ones may prove useful for multiple cycles. The others…” He shrugged. “Resources are allocated according to value.”
The others.
He thought of Melissa’s dark eyes, her fierce determination, the way she held Robbie like she could protect him from the universe through sheer force of will. He thought of the other two human females he’d met, frightened and alone in their cells. He thought of fifty more, ripped from their world to fuel Naran’s grand experiment.
And he knew, with crystalline clarity, that he would burn this entire facility to the ground before he let that happen.
“I appreciate you sharing your plans with me, Councilor.” His voice came out steady. A small miracle. “It helps to understand the larger picture.”
“Does it?” Naran’s eyes hadn’t left his face. “You seem less than enthusiastic.”
“I’m focused on the current objective. As you instructed.”
“Indeed.” Naran set down his glass with a soft click. “I selected you for this assignment very carefully, Captain. Did you know that?”
“You said you chose me because of my record, my loyalty, and my time in the labs.”
“All of which is true, but that wasn’t the primary consideration.” Naran rose and crossed to the window, gazing out at the wilderness beyond the facility’s walls. “I chose you because you have no connections. No family remaining. No political allies. No one who would ask inconvenient questions about your posting.”
The words landed like stones dropping into still water, sending ripples of understanding through his mind.
“You chose me because I’m isolated.”
“I chose you because you’re controllable.” Naran turned back, his expression cold. “Whatever romantic notions you’ve developed about the human female are irrelevant. She is a resource. You are a tool. Tools don’t develop attachments to resources.”
He said nothing.
“I’ve tolerated your questions because your instincts have proven useful in ensuring the female’s compliance. But make no mistake, Captain.” Naran stepped closer, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. “If you become more trouble than you’re worth, you will be replaced. And the female will be given to someone far less… gentle.”
The threat hung in the air between them, sharp as a blade.
“Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly, Councilor.”
“Good.” The warmth returned to Naran’s voice as quickly as it had vanished, leaving Becsul with a disorienting sense of whiplash. “Then I look forward to your continued success. You’re dismissed.”
He walked through the corridors in a daze, his mind racing even as his body moved on autopilot.
He’d always known the facility was wrong. From the moment Naran first explained the experiment, some part of him had recognized the moral rot at its core. But he’d told himself it was necessary. He’d told himself the survival of his species justified the means. He’d told himself that being here, doing what little he could to ease the suffering of the females, was better than leaving them entirely to Naran’s mercy.
Lies, he thought bitterly.Pretty lies I told myself so I could sleep at night.
But that was before Melissa.
Before her courage and her fire and the way she looked at him like he was something more than a tool to be used and discarded. Before Robbie’s small hand curled around his finger, trusting him completely despite every reason not to. Before he understood what it meant to love something more than his own survival.
He stopped in an empty corridor, pressing his palm against the ancient stone wall. The carvings beneath his fingers depicted a scene from the Founding Wars—warriors standing against impossible odds, choosing death before dishonor.
What would they think of me?he asked himself.Serving a master who buys living beings like cargo and speaks of mothers as inventory?
The answer was obvious.
