Chapter 13: Thinking About the Future

The shuttle glided silently through space, approaching Vykhor’s ship, which floated majestically in orbit. The Narak’Tharr was an imposing structure, all sharp angles and dark metallic surfaces, almost invisible against the infinite blackness of space. Its engines pulsed gently, emitting a barely perceptible blue glow, a sign of the immense power ready to be unleashed at any moment.

Inside the shuttle, Evelyn struggled to stay awake. After days of working relentlessly on Vykhor’s prosthetic, sleepless nights plagued by nightmares and moments of doubt, and the adrenaline rush from their hasty escape from the base, her body was starting to give out. Her chronic fatigue, a result of the experiments performed on her, worsened by her hyperthymesia and the overload of information she’d had to process, was becoming unbearable. Her eyelids were heavy, and she fought to remain conscious as the shuttle gently docked with the mothership.

Vykhor glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim light, and he could sense her weakness. He was a warrior, used to reading the signs of fatigue and vulnerability, and Evelyn embodied that in this moment. She had given everything she had to heal and restore him, using her knowledge and energy until she was completely spent. A part of him, the part hardened by battle and betrayal, found it laughable. Why would someone devote themselves so much to someone like him, a Kael’tarien who was ready to destroy anything to gain his freedom?

Yet, he felt oddly grateful. This woman had saved him, and despite their precarious situation and his hard instincts, he couldn’t ignore that fact. A debt weighed on him, and Vykhor wasn’t the type to leave a debt unpaid, no matter what it was. But beyond mere gratitude, he felt a strange attachment to her, a feeling he found both disturbing and unsettling.

As soon as the shuttle locked onto the ship, he stood without hesitation and approached Evelyn, finding her almost unconscious, completely drained from the effort she had made. Without a word, he lifted her with ease, his powerful body holding her as if she weighed nothing. Though he intended the gesture to be purely practical, it awakened an unfamiliar feeling inside him—something almost protective.

Evelyn, half-conscious, barely registered the warmth of his body against hers. But for a fleeting moment, before she slipped into complete unconsciousness, a brief sense of safety enveloped her. Her arms fell limply, and her head, heavy with exhaustion, rested against Vykhor’s shoulder. He held her firmly, outwardly impassive, though inside, a quiet tug stirred—a subtle pull he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Vykhor left the shuttle and stepped into the dark, metallic corridors of the Narak’Tharr. The ship was nearly silent, save for the soft hum of systems on standby. He moved swiftly toward the infirmary, a section of the ship dedicated to advanced medical care. The door slid open soundlessly, revealing a room with smooth, silver walls and sophisticated Kael’tarien medical equipment scattered throughout.

As soon as he entered, a soft but authoritative voice echoed through the room. "Commander Kael’seth, I’ve detected your arrival. How may I assist you?"

The AI, called "Kryna", an advanced artificial intelligence programmed to manage the ship and all aspects of health on board, activated immediately, its systems lighting up as it took note of the state of Evelyn and Vykhor.

“Kryna,” Vykhor replied in his deep voice, “this human needs care. Use every resource to stabilize her and make sure she gets rest. And my prosthetic requires a full repair.”

“Understood,” Kryna responded, her voice calm as ever. A medical table rose from the floor, casting a soft, soothing light. “Please lay the human here, and I will attend to her.”

Vykhor approached the table and carefully placed Evelyn on it. She didn’t react, completely lost in the deep, restorative sleep she desperately needed. Soft scanning lights moved over her body, projected by Kryna, who immediately began assessing her condition. “She is severely exhausted,” the AI noted. “Her body has reached its limits. I will administer light sedatives and energy supplements to promote rest and recovery of her vital functions.”

Vykhor nodded silently, then turned to expose his prosthetic arm to Kryna. He could feel the systems already reactivated thanks to Evelyn’s repairs, but they weren’t yet at full capacity. “Fix this too, Kryna. I need to be at 100%.”

“I will begin immediately,” Kryna responded. Robotic arms emerged from the ceiling, deploying around Vykhor to start the repairs. The mechanisms worked with incredible precision, replacing and adjusting every faulty component. Vykhor closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the slight vibrations of the repairs coursing through his body. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation—in fact, it was almost soothing, especially after the intense battle they had fought to escape.

The first hours aboard the Narak’Tharr passed in near-total silence. Only the subtle sounds of Kryna’s machinery at work and Evelyn’s steady breathing disturbed the quiet. Vykhor remained still, letting the AI tend to him, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Evelyn, the human who had treated him and helped him, now rested safely aboard his ship. She was a mystery, an intriguing enigma that defied all his expectations. He knew he needed to learn more about her—about her motivations, about what drove her to act as she had.

But for now, he allowed her to rest. She needed to recover, and in a way, so did he. The war for their survival wasn’t over, but they had won the first battle. As Kryna continued her quiet work, the Narak’Tharr, still cloaked in the darkness of space, prepared for the challenges ahead, carrying on board two beings whose fates had become inextricably intertwined.

**Earth - Unknown Military Base**

Kane stood amidst the smoking ruins of what, just hours ago, had been his military base. Shattered concrete and twisted steel littered the ground, plumes of smoke still rising into the air, darkening the sky. A deathly silence hung over the place, broken only by the crackling of flames and the occasional creaking of unstable debris. The devastation around him left no room for hope. Everything was lost.

Kane’s thoughts raced frantically through his mind. He had underestimated Evelyn and Vykhor. He never believed that this young scientist and the Kael’tarien could reduce his base to ashes so quickly and efficiently. His overconfidence, his arrogance—it had all led to this humiliating failure. But beyond the bitter shame, a colder, more chilling realization crept into his mind: he knew what awaited him.

His superior, that ruthless, pitiless figure, would never accept such a defeat. Death—that’s what awaited him if he dared show up empty-handed. Kane knew that human lives meant nothing to this man. The soldiers who had fallen here? Just pawns, expendable pieces in a much larger game. And he, Jonathan Kane, was just another pawn who had failed.

A shiver of fear ran down his spine. He had to flee. Disappear into the shadows, become a ghost, a man without a trace. It was his only chance of survival.

But as the fear of death gnawed at him, a darker thought took root. Revenge. One day, maybe, he would take his revenge on Vykhor and Evelyn, those traitors who had humiliated him. And perhaps, if the opportunity arose, he would turn against his own superior, that cold, calculating figure, for whom life was nothing more than a bargaining chip.

One day. But for now, survival came first. Kane turned his back on the wreckage, resolved to vanish, silently promising himself that this was only the beginning.

**Narak’Tharr - Earth’s Orbit**

As the Narak’Tharr drifted silently away from Earth, the stars slowly passing through the ship’s windows, Vykhor Kael’seth stood before one of the observation bays, lost in thought. The blue surface of the planet they were leaving behind was slowly disappearing, becoming just a tiny dot in the vastness of space. But it wasn’t Earth that occupied his mind. No, his thoughts were entirely focused on the human woman sleeping in the ship’s infirmary.

Evelyn Ashcroft. From the moment they first met, she had intrigued him. Beneath her soft appearance and empathetic nature, he had quickly sensed a sharp intellect, a complexity that defied initial impressions. She wasn’t like the other humans he had encountered. She wasn’t an enemy, nor was she a mere ally. She was something else, something he couldn’t quite define yet. And now, after what Kane had revealed, his fascination with her had only deepened.

The idea that the human military had used him as bait to lure Evelyn was a troubling revelation. They had judged that she was worth the risk of manipulating a Kael’tarien, an incredibly dangerous gamble. That said a lot about how valuable they considered Evelyn, about how important her skills were. But it also said something else: for Evelyn, a life—whether human or not—had undeniable value. She hadn’t hesitated to risk her own safety to save someone from another species, someone she didn’t even know. That sense of honor and morality resonated with Vykhor’s own principles, even if he would never admit that such a quality could be something he respected in a human.

But what fascinated him most was the mystery surrounding Evelyn. Kane had confirmed what Vykhor had suspected: Evelyn was hiding much more than her skills in medicine and cybernetics. What other knowledge, what other abilities did she possess? She had managed to unlock the secrets of his prosthetic, a technology even the best human engineers couldn’t understand. This proved that her intellect was a rare commodity, and Vykhor couldn’t help but want to know more about her. Who was she, really? Where did she come from? And what else was she hiding?

These questions gnawed at him as he stared into the infinity of space. But he also had to consider another, more pragmatic question: what should he do with her now? The simplest solution would be to drop her off on a peaceful planet, where she could live in peace, far from military schemes and the dangers of the galaxy. But another part of him, the part that respected the value of skill and the rarity of intelligence, considered a different option. He could keep her by his side. Her knowledge, her analytical mind, could be invaluable assets. She could help him in his own missions, maybe even in his personal quest for vengeance and justice.