This. This was what he’d never known he was missing. The warmth of a shared meal, the easy teasing of people who knew each other well, the comfortable chaos of family life.
He’d spent years telling himself he didn’t need any of it. That freedom meant having no ties, no obligations, nothing that could be used against him. He’d watched Athtar build this life with Faith and told himself it wasn’t for him, that he was made for the spaces between stars, not the solid ground of home.
Idiot. Past-Doren had been a complete idiot.
The evening progressed in the familiar rhythm of old friendships. The children eventually wore themselves out and were bundled off to bed, Ari included—she’d fallen asleep in Emma’s arms and been carried to the small room that had become hers during their visits. The adults moved to the terrace with glasses of Athtar’s excellent wine, and the conversation shifted to the matters that couldn’t be discussed in front of young ears.
“Tanaca’s been pushing for another meeting,” Athtar said, his massive frame settling into a chair that creaked under his weight. “He’s received reports from the frontier—Grorn activity near the Outer Reaches.”
Doren’s relaxation evaporated. “How near?”
“Near enough that the Imperial Council is concerned. They want to know if you’ve uncovered anything that might explain the increased presence.”
“I’ve heard rumors. Nothing concrete.” Doren swirled his wine, watching the liquid catch the moonlight. “The Grorn have been moving resources towards the edge of mapped space for months. Whatever they’re looking for, they haven’t found it yet.”
“Another waystation?”
“Maybe. Or maybe something else entirely.” He’d spent six months following fragments of information, piecing together ancient star charts and half-remembered legends. The path to the Vault was still unclear, but one thing had become certain: the Grorn were searching for the same thing. And they were getting closer.
“Tanaca wants Ari tested again.”
Emma’s voice was quiet but firm. She’d been watching the conversation with the careful attention she brought to everything, and now her gaze met Doren’s across the terrace.
“Tested how?”
“They’ve recovered more Precursor artifacts from the frontier. He believes Ari’s reaction to them might provide useful data.”
“No.”
The word came out sharper than Doren intended, drawing a raised eyebrow from Athtar. But he didn’t take it back.
“We have an agreement,” he continued, forcing his voice to steadiness. “Ari interacts with artifacts voluntarily, under supervision, and we stop immediately if she shows distress. She’s two years old. She can’t consent to being a test subject.”
“I’m not arguing.” Emma’s hand found his under the table—a gesture that had become automatic between them. “I just wanted you to know what he’s asking.”
“And I want him to know that the answer is no. Not until she’s old enough to understand what’s happening and make her own choice.”
“That could be years.”
“Then it’ll be years.” Doren’s jaw tightened. “The Empire got what they wanted—access to the information we’ve gathered, a pathway towards finding the Vault. They don’t get to treat our daughter like a laboratory specimen.”
Our daughter. He’d said it without thinking, and the words hung in the air between them. Emma’s eyes glistened, and something passed between them—an acknowledgment of how far they’d come, of the family they’d built from chaos and desperation.
Faith cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should give you two some time to discuss this privately. It’s getting late, and the children will be awake at dawn regardless of how late the adults stayed up.”
“Subtle,” Athtar rumbled.
“I wasn’t trying to be subtle. I was trying to give them an exit.” Faith rose, gathering wine glasses with practiced efficiency. “Emma, walk with me to the kitchen?”
It wasn’t really a question. Emma squeezed Doren’s hand once before rising to follow Faith inside, and Doren watched her go with a familiar mixture of warmth and concern.
She was still keeping something from him. He could feel it in the careful way she chose her words, the moments when her attention seemed to turn inward. Whatever it was, it had been building for weeks—maybe longer.
“You’ve noticed it too,” Athtar said quietly.
“Noticed what?”
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” The big Elginar leaned back in his chair, his pale eyes knowing. “She’s been different lately. Faith mentioned it to me.”
