Chapter 8: Learning to Trust Each Other

This morning, when Evelyn had returned with her bag of tools, Vykhor had felt a strange sense of anticipation rise within him. For the first time since his capture, he found himself slightly less on edge, curious to see what she would try next. He had watched every movement of her hands, every precise gesture as she got back to work. She hadn’t asked him any pointless questions, nor inflicted unnecessary pain. On the contrary, she worked with a precision and efficiency that, while not perfect, showed a rare understanding of the technology she was handling.

And today, they were alone. Neither Kane nor any of his men were around to monitor their every move.

As she adjusted circuits and reconfigured connections, Vykhor felt sensations he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Faint pulses of electrical current ran through the synthetic fibers of his arm, and systems he had believed to be beyond repair slowly began reactivating. It was as if she had found the hidden path at the heart of his prosthetic, decrypting the secrets of Kael'tarien technology in a way no one else had. This realization left him both intrigued and wary.

Who was this woman, really? How could a mere human, and such a young one at that, comprehend even a fraction of something so complex? Vykhor began to suspect that this Evelyn was no ordinary human. Her skills went far beyond medicine. It was evident in every decision she made, in every repair she attempted on his prosthetic. She was hiding something, something significant.

“Who are you, really, Evelyn Ashcroft?” Vykhor asked in Kael’tarien, his deep voice echoing in the small exam room. His hand came down gently but firmly on Evelyn’s wrist, holding it with controlled strength. There was no violence in his action, just a subtle pressure, a clear signal that he expected an answer, even though he knew she couldn’t understand his words.

Evelyn jumped, startled by the sudden contact. Her gaze locked onto Vykhor’s, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze between them. She stared at him, her expression shifting from surprise to slight concern. It wasn’t just the fact that he had spoken to her in a language she didn’t understand that unsettled her, but something deeper, something in the intensity of his gaze that made her uneasy.

Vykhor, in turn, observed her reactions closely. He could read her eyes. The worry he saw there wasn’t fear of the unknown. No, it was something else. A worry that ran deeper, more personal. He, who had endured painful trials, who had survived suffering, could recognize it instantly in others. There was a shadow in Evelyn’s eyes, a shadow she was trying to hide behind her calm exterior, behind her professionalism. She had suffered, too.

This realization crept into his mind, slightly unsettling his judgment. Evelyn wasn’t just this strange and competent doctor who could repair technologies that other humans couldn’t even fathom. She carried a silent pain, a pain he had recognized immediately. Vykhor slowly loosened his grip on her wrist, but he didn’t let go just yet, still trying to unravel the mysteries she kept hidden behind her mask.

Evelyn, feeling the pressure ease but her wrist still held, didn’t look away. There was something strange, almost intimate, in this contact that disarmed her. She didn’t understand his words, but she understood his gaze. It wasn’t the cold, inhuman stare she had imagined when mentally drawing Vykhor’s portrait. There was something almost vulnerable in his eyes, a spark she hadn’t expected to find.

Yet she regained her composure, trying to shake off the unease creeping over her. This Kael'tarien was dangerous, and she knew it.

As she resumed her work in silence, visibly focused, Vykhor watched her, still trying to figure out the enigma she represented. Every time she touched his arm, he could feel the difference. She wasn’t fumbling like the others, nor making clumsy guesses. Her movements were calculated, her choices deliberate. And yet, he also sensed her caution, as if she didn’t want to reveal too much, as if she knew someone was watching.

But beyond her technical skills, there was something else that troubled him even more: her empathy. He could feel it, a kind of sadness and deep understanding, as if she knew what it was like to suffer, to carry invisible scars. It irritated him as much as it intrigued him. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, especially not from a human. Empathy wasn’t a weapon he knew how to respond to.

After a long while, she finished her work, gently wiping the sweat from her forehead. She straightened up, her eyes scanning him for a moment, as if to check whether her efforts had the desired effect. Vykhor gave her no sign of acknowledgment, but he knew she would understand. He was ready to admit that his prosthetic was functioning a bit better thanks to her, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

Finally, she packed up her tools and prepared to leave the room. Before she left, she glanced back, her blue eyes holding his gaze for a moment longer, as if she was hesitating to say something. But instead, she simply nodded slightly, then exited, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Vykhor remained lying still for a long time after her departure. His mind was racing, analyzing everything he had just experienced. This woman was different, undeniably so. But she also posed a potential threat—not because of what she might do to him, but because of what she knew, of what she could understand. He had to stay on guard, even though, for the first time in a long while, he wondered if such wariness was truly necessary.

He moved his cybernetic arm slightly, feeling the improvements she had made. They were far from perfect, but they proved one thing: Evelyn Ashcroft was not just another tool in the hands of these military men. She was much more than that, and he needed to figure out what she was hiding, what was driving her to help him.

In the meantime, he decided to play along. For now, she was his only hope of restoring his prosthetic to a level that would allow him to escape. He had to let her continue, let her think she had earned his respect or trust, even though that wasn’t the case yet. But deep down, a small voice whispered that this human might just be the key to getting out of this situation. And maybe, just maybe, she deserved a bit more consideration than the others.

When he saw her again, he would be ready, more observant than ever. Vykhor Kael'seth had spent his life analyzing his enemies, anticipating their moves, finding and exploiting their weaknesses. He knew how to make the most of every detail, and this Evelyn Ashcroft, with her unique skills and hidden mysteries, might just be the greatest asset he had encountered in a long time. She wasn’t just a talented scientist capable of understanding and repairing technology that even the best humans would find incomprehensible. She was different, unique, and he sensed that she held secrets that could change everything.

Vykhor sat up as he heard the door open and the heavy footsteps of Kane and his men entering the room. Kane, that arrogant and calculating man, always had an imposing posture, but this time, Vykhor noticed a shift in his attitude. Kane didn’t just make his usual entrance, confident and condescending. No, this time, he took the time to observe Vykhor’s prosthetic closely, a clear interest in his gaze. This immediately put the Kael’tarien on high alert. Why this sudden interest? He knew Kane well: the officer never lingered on technical details unless they directly served his goals.

“Looks like she’s doing a good job, don’t you think, Vykhor?” Kane remarked with a smug grin, his eyes scrutinizing the prosthetic.

Vykhor narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t respond. He knew Kane wasn’t expecting an answer. It was a game to him, a way to test limits, to provoke a reaction. But why the interest in Evelyn’s work? The question lingered in Vykhor’s mind. Evelyn worked for them, didn’t she? She had to answer to them. If that was the case, why this scrutiny, why the focus on her work? It didn’t add up. Something was happening behind the scenes, something Vykhor hadn’t figured out yet.

As Kane continued to examine the prosthetic, Vykhor recalled the officer’s first words to him about Evelyn. A strong woman, unyielding, capable of breaking even the most resilient minds. That’s how he had introduced her, as some kind of mental executioner, a cold scientist who knew how to manipulate and destroy. But the reality was far from that picture. Evelyn Ashcroft was anything but this image of inflexibility. He had seen her at work, felt her through her gestures and silences. She was competent, no doubt, but she wasn’t an emotional brute. No, she was much more nuanced than that.

In retrospect, Evelyn Ashcroft was a paradox. She combined extraordinary intelligence with a humanity he hadn’t expected to find in her. He had observed her carefully, and despite her professional distance, he had sensed something more. A hidden pain, a weight she carried. Maybe, just like him, she hid her own wounds behind a mask of competence and control.

And that made her dangerous, but also useful. If Kane thought Evelyn was just another tool at his disposal, he was gravely mistaken. Vykhor knew he needed to get closer to her, to uncover what she was really hiding. Because behind her calm demeanor and skilled hands was a mind capable of far more than Kane realized.

Kane might not know it yet, but Vykhor had already decided that Evelyn wouldn’t just be a pawn in this galactic chess game. She might very well become the key to his escape.