Chapter 11: The Fifth Day

That morning—the morning of the fifth day—began strangely different for Evelyn. After several days of silence and tension, Kane broke the usual routine. During breakfast, while she sat alone at a table in the officers' mess, Kane, to everyone’s surprise, sat down across from her. Evelyn, used to keeping a low profile and avoiding eye contact, looked up, bewildered. The colonel had barely spoken to her since her arrival, except to order her to her quarters or to stick strictly to her duties.

She stared at him in silence, too surprised to know what to say. Kane, as impassive as ever, calmly scrutinized her, his cold, calculating gaze trying to read something in her. His sudden interest seemed unusual, almost unsettling.

After a moment of silence that felt like it stretched on forever, Kane finally decided to speak. "I hope you're adjusting well to life here, Dr. Ashcroft."

His words hit Evelyn like a cold shower. She nearly choked on her food, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Adjusting to life here”? She’d been on the base for five days, and in that time, he’d only spoken to her in dry, impersonal commands. What was this sudden interest? Why did that seemingly harmless question leave a bitter taste in her mouth?

She took a moment to collect herself before answering cautiously. "It’s different from my usual routine," she said, treading carefully. She had to weigh each word. "But I’m adapting. I’m not a complicated person, Colonel."

Kane nodded, his lips curving into a vague smile. "True," he agreed in an unreadable tone. Yet, despite the facade of casual conversation, Evelyn couldn’t shake the sense of latent tension. There was something strange about the colonel’s demeanor. A hidden agenda, a game she couldn’t yet decipher. What was he trying to pull from her?

She felt her fingers tighten slightly around her spoon, her mind already racing to analyze the possible reasons for this sudden attention. What did Kane know? Why now?

The colonel let the silence hang for a while before speaking again, his gaze growing sharper. "But sometimes," he said slowly, "I wonder what exactly you do, alone in your quarters every evening, for hours."

Those words felt like a slap. Evelyn almost dropped her spoon, her heart leaping in her chest. She sensed the insinuation behind his question, a level of surveillance that went beyond mere observation. Her thoughts swirled as she tried to stay calm, but the attack was clear: Kane had suspicions, and he’d just laid them on the table, subtly, like a snake coiling around its prey.

"One might think you've always lived in this kind of environment," he added, twisting the knife further. His tone was neutral, almost friendly, but Evelyn heard the underlying threat. He knew something.

Evelyn swallowed hard, her mind racing. Where was he going with this? She had to respond without revealing too much, without raising further suspicion.

“Oh,” Kane suddenly exclaimed, breaking the silence he had created himself. "I wouldn’t want to keep you." He stood up, as if the conversation had been nothing more than a formality. But for Evelyn, the discomfort lingered. Kane had just tested her, probed her, and she could feel this was only the beginning of a far more dangerous game than he let on.

As he walked away, the knot of tension in Evelyn’s stomach only tightened.

When she joined Vykhor, Evelyn began another session of repairs, her hands trembling slightly at first. She forced herself to focus, using her expertise to make the final adjustments she could manage. She knew Vykhor’s prosthetic would never be fully restored under these conditions, but she had to ensure it was functional enough to give them a chance at escape.

Evelyn tried to immerse herself in the work, to drown out the thoughts swirling in her mind. Kane’s behavior had unsettled her, and even now, alone with Vykhor in the medical room, she still felt the weight of anxiety pressing on her. She knew she needed to push aside that unease, at least for now, but it was easier said than done. Vykhor watched her in silence, and she could feel his probing gaze, as if he could sense every troubled thought racing through her mind.

For the first time since they’d started working together, Evelyn felt vulnerable under his stare. Her hands shook slightly as she manipulated one of the tools, a sign of just how deeply that morning’s conversation with Kane had rattled her. But she wasn’t the only one who had noticed something. Vykhor knew. He didn’t need to think long to figure out what was bothering Evelyn. Jonathan Kane, of course.

When Kane had come to retrieve him from his cell, something had been different in his posture, in the way he looked at him. Vykhor had immediately sensed the shift. It wasn’t just the colonel’s usual condescension. No, something was going on, and Vykhor was certain of it. But what? What was Kane scheming?

“Evelyn,” Vykhor said suddenly, his voice calm and steady. The young woman jumped, dropping the tool in a clumsy motion, a clear sign of her inner turmoil. Before she could react, Vykhor caught it—with his prosthetic. Evelyn froze, her eyes widening in surprise. It was the first time he had shown her, through such a simple but significant gesture, that the prosthetic was functional again. Not all its functions were restored, but it was a substantial improvement. She had repaired it.

A mixture of pride and worry flashed through Evelyn. If Kane found out just how far she’d progressed, she’d be in danger. But Vykhor didn’t seem to share her immediate concern. He had another message to convey.

“Evelyn,” he repeated, handing her the tool back, his yellow eyes fixing her with intensity. “This is the first time I’ve seen you this nervous. You’ve noticed Kane’s change, haven’t you?”

Evelyn hesitated for a moment. What did he know? Should she confide in him? Her heart raced, but she finally took the tool back with a sigh. "He acted strange this morning, yes," she admitted, her voice betraying the tension she struggled to hide. She knew Vykhor wouldn’t be satisfied with just that.

“You know what that means,” Vykhor continued, his voice softer but carrying a weight that made Evelyn shiver. “Kane doesn’t change his behavior without a reason. He’s preparing something. And you, Evelyn... you’re at the center of it all, whether you like it or not.” He straightened slightly, his gaze growing sharper, almost accusatory. “You can’t keep playing both sides.”

The implication was clear, and Evelyn felt it deeply. She was dangerously juggling her role in tending to Vykhor, her obligations to Kane, and her own instincts for survival. But the game was becoming riskier, and she knew it. Every decision she made brought her closer to a line she wouldn’t be able to cross without consequences.

“Pick a side,” Vykhor murmured, his voice turning sharper. “Because if you don’t, Evelyn, I’ll do it for you.”

Those final words rang out like a veiled threat, but also as a sincere warning. Vykhor wasn’t joking. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let things unfold on their own. If he sensed she was wavering, becoming a potential threat to his plans, he’d act. He didn’t have the luxury of patience or blind trust.

Evelyn swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her choices press down on her even more. She had to decide quickly.

That evening, like the days before, Kane entered the room to interrupt her work. But this time, his gaze was more intense, almost accusatory. "You’ve done enough for today, Dr. Ashcroft."

At the end of the day, Evelyn sat in her room, her mind troubled by the recent events. Vykhor had been clear: she had to choose a side. But how? Every option seemed like a dead end. Her life was at stake.

Kane’s sudden change in behavior deeply unsettled her. He knew something, that was obvious. And Vykhor, with his piercing stares and veiled threats, didn’t reassure her either. She was trapped, torn between these opposing forces.

But deep down, a certainty was growing: she couldn’t remain passive. The time to choose was approaching, and she had to prepare to face the consequences, whatever they might be.

Back in his cell, Vykhor settled into the darkness, his mind swirling with the day’s events. For him, things were now clear: Evelyn would join him in his escape, whether she wanted to or not. This woman, far more intelligent than she let on, had a crucial role to play. Her gentleness, her empathy, and above all, her sharp mind made her a valuable ally. But Vykhor also knew that Evelyn couldn’t stay here, on this planet, surrounded by dangers. Jonathan Kane, in particular, represented a lurking threat—a man willing to do anything to serve his own interests.

But Vykhor saw beyond that. Kane wasn’t the true mastermind behind this plot. He was just a pawn, carrying out the orders of someone else, someone pulling the strings from the shadows. Vykhor sensed the subtle manipulation, the intricate orchestration. He didn’t yet know who was behind Kane, but one thing was certain: the time for his revenge was drawing near, and Evelyn would be by his side.

As he did every night, Kane activated the communication device. Once again, the distorted voice echoed, imposing and cruel.

“Report, Kane.”

But this time, Kane felt a growing confidence within him. He had finally seen what he needed to see, the event he couldn’t miss—the one Evelyn and Vykhor had done everything to keep in the shadows.

“Evelyn Ashcroft has restored the Kael’tarien’s prosthetic,” he announced firmly, his tone sure of itself.

A silence lingered on the other side, longer than expected—a reaction very different from what he had anticipated.

“Are you certain, Kane?” his superior finally asked, a noticeable caution in his voice.

“Affirmative,” Kane confirmed, his tone still confident. “I saw it with my own eyes—Vykhor catching an object Ashcroft had dropped. The prosthetic is operational.”

The silence broke once again.

“Then you know what this means, Kane,” the voice replied, darker.

Kane nodded, even though he knew the other couldn’t see it. Everything was becoming clear. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I must act,” he confirmed, the resolve clear in his words.

“Exactly.” A cold smile seemed to slip into the distorted voice. “Tomorrow, you’ll bring me Vykhor Kael’seth and Evelyn Ashcroft. And remember, Kane, failure is not an option. If you value your life, that is.”

The message was clear, unforgiving. Kane felt the threat hover for a moment, then the device cut off abruptly. Tomorrow would be the decisive day.