Chapter Four

Raxon

The thrum of the engines filled the bridge as we broke free from the ruined slaver craft, gliding out into the silent void of space. I watched the smoldering wreck dwindle behind us through the main viewport, a sense of grim satisfaction settling in my gut.

Another operation successfully completed. Another blight on the galaxy wiped clean, if only for a little while. It was never a permanent solution—there would always be more of that vile scum slithering out from the darkest recesses to take up the same despicable trade.

But for now, we could savor this small victory. One more slaver brought to heel, one more shipment of stolen lives rescued from a bleak, nightmarish fate.

My gaze slid sideways to the strange human female huddled in the co-pilot"s station. She"d managed to secure the harness system after a few fumbling tries, but now she sat rigid in the crash couch, those huge eyes of hers drinking in every detail around her.

I couldn"t begin to imagine what must be going through her mind. She was the first of her kind any of us had ever encountered, after all—a true alien in the most literal sense of the word. To be ripped so violently from the only reality she knew and thrust headlong into ours... it had to be utterly disorienting. Terrifying, even.

And yet, she"d kept her wits about her remarkably well so far. Most would have been incoherent, babbling wrecks by now. But this human—Sutton, she"d called herself—had faced down the horrors of the slaver"s ship and the shock of first contact with a fortitude I had to respect.

Of course, that didn"t make her any less of an unknown factor, one I would have to tread carefully around until I figured out what to do with her. She might be small, but something deep in my instincts warned me not to underestimate her kind.

"So..." Her voice made me start, whiskers twitching as I pulled my attention away from the controls. "What happens now? Can you take me home?"

"I"m afraid that"s not possible," I rumbled at last, forcing the words out as gently as I could manage. "Your world is uncharted, at least by the Coalition systems. We have no way of tracing your origins based on the information we have."

Her face fell, that light in her eyes dimming as the weight of her situation settled back onto those deceptively delicate shoulders. For a moment, I felt a strange pang in my chest, an unfamiliar ache that made me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

Foolishness—she was an alien, after all. An unknown factor that could prove dangerous if left unchecked. Whatever strange compulsion was tugging at me, urging me to comfort her, to ease her burdens, it needed to be mercilessly quashed before it compromised my mission parameters.

"I"ll inform my superiors of your... situation," I said despite my better judgment. "But for the time being, you"ll need to remain in Coalition custody until we can sort out a more permanent solution."

The words sounded hollow, even to my own ears. As if locking this female away in some sterile compound would somehow make everything right again. But it was better than admitting I had no solid plan, no way to undo the nightmare she"d been dragged into against her will.

"So... what?" She lifted her head, pinning me with that intense, searching gaze. "I"m just supposed to sit tight while you all figure out what to do with me? Like some kind of... of prisoner?"

I winced at the hurt and accusation that laced her tone. I"d been trying to soften the reality of her circumstances, but it seemed I"d only made things worse.

Releasing a low growl, I raked my paw down my face and forced myself to meet her stare head-on.

"Look, little... Sutton." I rumbled her name, tasting the strange syllables as I spoke them. "I understand your distress. But you have to see this from my perspective as well. You"re... well, you"re something completely new to me and my kind. We know next to nothing about you or your species—your physiology, your culture, your technological base. You could be a powerful weapon for all I know, or a harbinger of something far more dangerous than any of us are prepared to face."

Her eyes went wide, mouth working soundlessly as she processed the weight of my words. I could see the anger and fear warring across her expressive features, the instinctive urge to lash out, battling against the rational mind that understood I spoke some difficult truths.

"I"m not... I"m not a weapon," she whispered at last, the words trembling with a combination of dismay and vehement denial. "I"m just... me. A person, like you. I never asked for any of this!"

"I know." The words slipped out, more gentle and reassuring than I"d intended. "I know you didn"t. And for what it"s worth, I"m sorry you"ve been caught up in this mess through no fault of your own."

I sighed, letting the weight of responsibility settle across my shoulders like a well-worn cloak.

"But it doesn"t change the reality we"re both facing. Until I can get you properly documented and vetted by my superiors, my duty is to keep you secured and under close observation. It"s for the safety of all involved, yourself included."

She stared at me for a long moment, lips pressed into a tight line as she wrestled with the situation. Just when I thought she might argue further, the human female seemed to deflate with a shuddering sigh.

"I understand," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her torso. "It doesn"t make it any easier, but... I get it. You"re just doing your job, same as anyone else."

A strange sense of relief washed over me, one I didn"t fully understand. Of course, I was simply following protocol, doing what was required of me as an officer in the Coalition Defense Force. So why did her acceptance of that fact fill me with such an odd sense of... gratitude? Approval, even?

I shook my head, pushing the peculiar notions aside as I focused on the controls before me.

"We"ll be rendezvousing with the main Coalition fleet shortly," I rumbled, watching the emerald blips that represented our support craft converge on the holographic starcharts. "From there, you"ll be transferred to a secured holding facility until—"

"Holding facility?" She cut me off, eyes going wide again as the full implications seemed to sink in. "You mean... like a prison?"

I winced at the fear and dismay that crept back into her tone. Of course, she would assume the worst—it was only natural given her circumstances.

"Not a prison, per se," I corrected, trying to gentle the reality as best I could. "More like... a secure sanctuary of sorts, with living quarters and amenities appropriate for civilians. We have protocols in place for refugees, you see. Quarters segregated from our military brig facilities, access to counselors, entertainments, basic comforts..."

My words trailed off as I realized she was staring at me, eyes glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. The fear and anguish radiating from her slight form made that strange ache flare up in my chest once more.

"Hey now," I rumbled, forcing some warmth into my tones. "I know it"s not ideal, but I promise you"ll be treated with dignity and respect while we sort this mess out. You"re not a prisoner, Sutton—you"re..." I paused, searching for the right phrasing. "You"re our guest, for lack of a better term. And it"s my duty to ensure your safety and well-being until we can find a way to get you back home again."

She stared at me for a long, endless moment, clearly wrestling with a thousand warring emotions. Then, at last, she seemed to reach some internal decision. With a slight nod, she turned away to gaze out the viewport, hugging herself tighter.

"Okay," she murmured, so softly I almost didn"t catch it. "I"ll... I"ll trust you, Raxon. For now."

Those simple words sent an unexpected tremor through me, like an electric jolt straight to my core. She would trust me—this strange little alien female who had every reason to despise me and my kind.

Perhaps it was the rawness of her voice as she spoke, the naked vulnerability she allowed to shine through despite her clear attempts to project strength. Or maybe it was the way she held my stare, those expressive eyes of hers stripping away all of my defenses until I felt laid bare beneath their intensity.

Whatever the reason, her acceptance of my promise, her willingness to place her faith in me, awoke something primal and protective in the depths of my soul. A fierce drive to shield her, to keep her safe and secure no matter what perils the galaxy threw our way.

I knew it was foolish—this compulsion, this strange sense of possession creeping up from the dark recesses of my psyche. She was an alien, as foreign to me as the furthest unexplored worlds of the galaxy. Our two kinds could hardly be more different, more... incompatible.

And yet, the more I studied her slight form huddled in that oversized crash-couch, the more I felt an unmistakable kinship with her plight. She was alone, adrift in a reality she had never been prepared to face. Just as I had been all those cycles ago when I was a captive in a slaver stronghold.

A strangled sound escaped my throat, one I barely managed to choke back into a low rumble. Gripping the edge of the control panel until my knuckles turned pale, I tore my gaze away from the entrancing human. I had to regain control, had to suppress these bizarre impulses before they jeopardized my objectivity.

"We"re coming up on the rendezvous coordinates," I growled, more to myself than Sutton. "Prepare for docking procedures."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her head swivel back towards me. She opened her mouth, perhaps to ask another question or probe this strange new dynamic unfolding between us.

But whatever she intended to say was drowned out as a harsh crackle of static burst from the comms array. I flinched, instinctively reaching to kill the offending noise before a tinny voice cut through the interference.

"...oner Raxon, this is Fleet Actual. We have you on approach vector and are ready to initiate docking procedures. Prepare for secured linkup and transfer of all detainees to the holding deck."

My shoulders stiffened at the coldly impersonal phrasing. Of course, the fleet commanders would view any captives we"d retrieved as just more potential threats to be neutralized. Not all species we saved appreciated their rescue. It was standard protocol, one I shouldn"t have expected any different from.

And yet, the clinical terminology, the way it so blithely stripped Sutton of any sense of individuality or personhood, made that protective impulse flare up again like an open flame.

"Acknowledged, Fleet Actual," I growled into the pickup, fighting to keep my tone level and professional. "We have... one high-value detainee aboard for secured transfer. Requesting quarantine procedures and assignment of a protective custody detail."

There was a fractional pause, one just long enough to convey the comm officer"s surprise at my addendum.

"Understood, Raxon. We"ll have a containment team assembled and ready to receive your... detainee." The unspoken questions hung in the air like a miasma—who was this "high-value" captive I spoke of? Why did they merit such special handling outside standard operating procedures?

But to their credit, the Fleet officers remained silent on such matters. Discipline and mission focus were two of their strongest virtues, after all.

"Raxon out." I killed the channel with a flick of my thumb, then swiveled to regard Sutton once more.

To her credit, she"d remained outwardly composed throughout the terse exchange. But I could see the slight tremble in her limbs, the way her wide eyes kept flicking between me and the looming shapes of the Coalition fleet growing larger through the viewports.

"Hey." The gentle rumble slipped out before I could stop it. "It"ll be alright, you have my word. I"ll be right there to oversee the entire process and make sure you"re treated according to my specifications."

Those expressive eyes found mine, shining with a kaleidoscope of unnameable emotions. Fear and uncertainty warred with a fragile sort of hope, all underpinned by a core of unyielding determination.

In that moment, I felt an unexpected surge of pride and respect for this little human female. She might be out of her depth in our reality, but she was facing it head-on instead of crumbling beneath the strain.

There was a remarkable strength to her, one that resonated deep within me in a way I couldn"t begin to explain or understand. All I knew was that in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to shield her, to keep that inner fire blazing no matter what the galaxy threw our way.

Sutton held my gaze for a few heartbeats longer, then gave a slight nod—not quite acceptance of her circumstances, but an acknowledgment of the path we were being forced to walk together.

"Okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the thrum of the engines. "I"m ready."

I blinked, an unexpected lump forming in my throat at her simple words of assent. Swallowing hard, I could only nod as I turned back to the controls.

The docking procedures were already underway, the fleet"s powerful tractor beams locking onto our small craft and guiding us into the main hangar bay. In mere moments, Sutton and I would be face-to-face with the full weight of the Coalition military.