The Unexpected Alien Teilhaberin CH09

Like a cat pushing a glass off the edge of a table, M'Sara disrupted Thomas's world Ch 9

Hearts beat, claws out - Revision 1.0

The mess hall of the Hegh’ta was compact, yet the artificial lighting made it feel surprisingly bright after the recent ordeal. The armored viewports, currently retracted to reveal the star-dusted black of space, offered a stark contrast to the sterile interior. Thomas sat at one of the four bench tables with a steaming plate of synthesized cheese and turkey omelet before him. He ate mechanically, his thoughts still tangled with the faces of the lost crew and the grim knowledge of the kidnapped younglings. But a different kind of distraction was tugging at his attention—T’Liana.

T’Liana and the rest of her squad were still stationed on the Hegh’ta, and may end up remaining as part of the crew, and T’Liana had not left their sides since they returned. They were all off duty to recover until the next mission.

Across from him, M’Sara was already halfway through a stack of synthesized pancakes—one of her favorite breakfasts. Her cobalt blue eyes sparkled with enjoyment. She wore her simple off-duty dark shorts and nothing else; her melanistic fur was a sleek, shadowy contrast to the pale blue walls of the mess hall. Her lithe, muscular form was relaxed, a rare moment of peace after the chaos. Thomas and M’Sara had just been talking about Elara, reminiscing about how cheerful she was to do any task they gave her.

T’Liana sat beside M’Sara, a small bowl of dried fish and nutrient paste before her—a typical Katzen breakfast. She was also dressed in standard off-duty shorts, her dark orange coat with sparse, spade-shaped rosettes visible against the fabric. But something was different. Usually brimming with quiet energy, she was unusually subdued, her gaze flitting between Thomas and the floor.

“T’Liana,” he said softly, setting his fork down. “You’ve been... different since our return. Is everything okay?”

Her ears flattened against her head as she fumbled for words. Her tail flicked nervously behind her, and she avoided his gaze, staring instead at the table. “Different?” she asked, her voice low. “I’m not… don’t know.”

Thomas leaned forward slightly, his expression earnest. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” he said quickly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. “But I just... I noticed that you are acting differently since our return. Is there anything I can do to help?”

T’Liana’s ears twitched, flattening against her skull for a fraction of a second before she forced them upright. Her claws, usually sheathed, flickered visible at the ends of her fingers. “I… am curious... about humans...” she said. She hesitated, her amber eyes locking onto his, she had never felt like this before, she felt vulnerable. “You are… the first human I’ve gotten to know...” Her voice dropped, the last part almost a growl, and she fell silent, her hand-paw hovering uncertainty above the table.

T’Liana’s eyes met his again, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something unreadable in them—perhaps gratitude or uncertainty. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she reached across the table with one paw, her claws retracting as she placed her hand-paw on his chest.

Thomas froze, his breath catching slightly at the unexpected contact. T’Liana’s touch was reassuring, her paw pads warm and firm but soft against his shirt. Her ears twitched again, and she looked up at him with a mixture of shyness and determination in her eyes.

M’Sara watched the exchange with raised eye ridges, her pancakes half-forgotten on her plate. She glanced between Thomas and T’Liana, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read the unspoken words between them. Finally, she let out a soft sigh and took another bite of her pancakes, her expression unreadable.

After she swallowed M’Sara placed a hand-paw on T’Liana’s forearm, her voice soft in Katzen. “Breathe. Slowly.”

The younger marine exhaled, then turned to M’Sara and spoke rapidly, her words a flurry of sounds that the translator in his ear comm struggled to keep up with and did not make sense to him.

Thomas looked at M’Sara with one eyebrow raised and she explained, “She says you’re… compelling. A puzzle she wants to solve. Humans are strange—your skin looks soft, but you fight like a seasoned Katzen. You’re clever with machines and computers, and when you did first aid on D’Ressa’s injury in the middle of battle, she saw how steady you are, even when others would’ve panicked. She… admires that. And she also says your scent is pleasing.” M’Sara’s ears tilted forward, her tone wry. “She also says she doesn’t know how to tell you all this in a way you would understand, you not being Katzen and all.”

T’Liana’s ears snapped back. She jabbed a claw at the table before she slowly said, “You make me confused.” She gestured wildly at her own head, then at M’Sara and Thomas. “I want to learn how to speak English, more about humans. So you don’t have to rely on a translator.”

M’Sara chuckled, “She’s only eighteen standard cycles old, Thomas. That is about twenty Earth years, a little younger than I am. She joined the marines straight from general education, this is her first mission. She’s never spent time with humans before she boarded the Hegh’ta, and now here you are—soft-skinned, yet strong. It’s… disorienting for her.”

He frowned. “But she’s a marine.”

“Yes,” M’Sara emphasized, “but she’s also… protective of those she cares about. You and I have seen that. And that protection? It’s starting to bleed into something else.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “I think she wants to court you, Thomas. But without understanding, she’s afraid she’ll misstep. That is my read of the situation.”

He stared at T’Liana. The marine met his gaze, her eyes unflinching, a faint pink tingeing the darker fur around her muzzle. Slowly, she reached out again, her hand-paw hovering near his hand, before withdrawing—then placing it firmly on the table between them.

No words. Just a challenge. A question.

Thomas swallowed. For the first time since Elara’s face haunted his thoughts, his sleep, he felt something shift—a flicker of warmth, sharp as a blade.

“We will teach you,” he said. “My words. My ways.”

T’Liana’s ears shot up. She stared at him, then at M’Sara, who gave a small, satisfied nod. A low trill—a laugh, almost—escaped the young marine. She pressed her hand-paw to the table, fingers splayed, and for the first time since the mission on the Hegh’ta began, the mess hall felt less like a warship and more like a place where something new might grow.

The scent of blueberries, even the gentle hum of the engines seemed to shift in focus after T’Liana’s clumsy, heartfelt confession. Thomas hadn’t consciously registered it before, but now, looking at her, he saw past the efficient marine, the lithe predator. He saw vulnerability, a youthful eagerness masked by disciplined control. The way her ears had drooped slightly when she realized the language barrier, the hesitant touch of her hand-paw on his chest… it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. It was… something more.

He’d been so focused on her skill, her dedication, her fierce protectiveness of their team, that he hadn’t considered the why behind it. He’d assumed it was simply the ingrained loyalty of a Katzen marine. But now, M’Sara’s explanation has painted a different picture. Compelling. Fascinating. Wanting. Frightening.

A flush crept up his neck, a reaction he hadn’t anticipated. He’d always appreciated T’Liana’s company the past few rotations, enjoyed their shared training sessions before the mission to take over the K’hara with M’Sara and D’Ressa, but he’d categorized it as camaraderie, a professional respect. Now, he felt a stirring of something… different. He found himself noticing the subtle flex of her muscles as she sat across from him, the way her eyes tracked his movements, her rosettes clearly visible on her shoulder fur that turned to a solid cream over her thicker chest fur, the soft, almost imperceptible twitch of her tail. He’d been so used to reading human expressions, he hadn’t even considered how much information was conveyed through Katzen body language, even after spending years with M’Sara.

Even so, Thomas did not know what to think about M’Sara’s suggestion of what T’Liana wanted. He was not his father. How would that even work? Maybe it would grow into just a close friendship, and she would get over her crush. If he was honest with himself, knew that is what it had to be. He was different, new, exciting. That is what he decided to tell himself.

As they stepped out of the mess hall, the rhythmic thrum of the Hegh’ta’s engines vibrated through the deck plates beneath their feet. The corridor was well lit, the bulkheads reflecting the soft glow. Just as they were turning a corner, M’Sara and Thomas’ ear comms crackled to life, breaking the ambient hum.

“Thomas, M’Sara, this is Dr. K’Moana,” the voice of the ship’s medic came through, laced with evident relief. “I have good news. D’Ressa is conscious and asking for you.”

“On our way,” M’Sara replied, her voice crisp and efficient. She didn’t hesitate, already turning on her toes and heading toward the medbay. Thomas and T’Liana fell into step behind her, the marine’s footsteps silent.

The medbay was a cool, sterile deck, the air smelling faintly of antiseptic and ozone. The hum of life support systems was a constant, low background noise. D’Ressa lay propped up in her bed, the sheets pulled back to reveal a heavily bandaged flank. Despite the pain etched into her features, her ears drooping, her large eyes brightened as she saw them enter.

M’Sara moved immediately to the side of the bed, sitting in one of the two padded chairs. She reached out, carefully gripping D’Ressa’s hand-paw with her own. “It’s so good to see you awake,” she said, her voice softening.

Thomas settled into the other chair, leaning in close to catch D’Ressa’s ear. “We’ve got a lot to tell you,” he murmured, quickly summarizing the events since the ambush—how they had rescued the colonists of the K’hara, the grim discovery regarding the crew and younglings, and the data they had managed to extract from the computer core.

T’Liana remained standing by the bulkhead door, her paw-hands clasped behind her back, she was at parade rest. She watched the scene with quiet intensity, her tail twitching slightly behind her. She sensed the deep, unspoken bond between the three engineers, a connection forged in the fires of combat and shared hardship.

M’Sara glanced over her shoulder, noticing T’Liana’s hesitation. She offered a warm, reassuring tilt of her ears. “Come, T’Liana. Sit with us.” She gestured toward the empty space on Thomas’ lap. “You’re with us now.”

T’Liana’s ears perked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her lean, dark-orange features. She glanced at him, who offered a small, encouraging nod. Slowly, she approached the bed, then moved toward him. She lowered herself onto his lap, her lithe body fitting comfortably against his. Her claws, usually sheathed, gently caught in the fabric of his jeans before retracting. She froze for a moment, then relaxed, leaning back into him.

“I’m honored,” T’Liana whispered, her head turning to press the side of her muzzle briefly against his shoulder.

M’Sara gave D’Ressa’s hand-paw a gentle squeeze. “D’Ressa, you remember T’Liana. She’s a talented marine, and she’s quickly becoming one of our friends. I’m hoping she will join our crew too.”

D’Ressa, her ears slightly pulled back in a playful gesture, looked at M’Sara. “I’m injured, but not in the head,” she quipped, her voice raspy but clear.

M’Sara’s ears tilted to the sides in response.

D’Ressa’s eyes softened, and she turned her attention to T’Liana, managing a weak expression of welcome that was conveyed entirely through the tilt of her ears. “Welcome to our circle, T’Liana.” She looked from M’Sara to Thomas, then to the young marine nestled in his lap. A profound sense of contentment washed over her. They were a strange, mismatched group—a human, two Luchs, and a Lehpparr—but they were going to be like family. And in the chaos of the galaxy, that was all that mattered.

The medbay fell quiet, the hum of machines blending with the soft, rhythmic sound of Katzen purring. For a moment, the weight of loss felt distant, held at bay by the warmth of shared air and the unspoken bond of those who fought, and cared fiercely.

Over the room comms crackled the voice of Dr. K’Moana, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Visiting time is over, D’Ressa needs her rest. Let the nanites do their work.”

D’Ressa was already beginning to drift, her eyelids heavy, as T’Liana bounced lightly out of his lap, her energy returning instantly. M’Sara stood up, smoothing her fur, and headed toward the corridor, Thomas and T’Liana following close behind. The medbay door hissed shut behind them, sealing away the sterile quiet.

M’Sara led them toward the rear of the ship, where the engineering deck hummed with a deeper, more constant vibration. As they walked, M’Sara spoke, her voice matter-of-fact. “We should at least check on the Aetheria data. Check in with engineering.”

He grinned, shaking his head slightly. “That is just like you,” he said to himself. “Worrying about the tracker even when we’re off duty.”

After a few steps, “Sure,” Thomas replied, though his tone was gentle. “I know you’re concerned about the younglings, but we need our downtime. We won’t do anyone any good if our brains are fried.”

M’Sara reached out, her hand-paw resting briefly on his hip before she turned to lead the way into the main engineering bay. “Don’t worry,” she said with a knowing smile in her ears. “We are going to relax in the rec room afterwords.”

When they entered the engineering deck, the sheer scale of the space was impressive. Massive consoles lined the bulkheads, and the central warp core pulsed with a rhythmic, azure light. M’Sara spotted R’Kaele, standing by the specialized wide multi-person console dedicated to the Aetheria system. M’Sara immediately went over to speak with her, leaving Thomas and T’Liana to stand near the edge of the main deck.

T’Liana looked around in wonder, her eyes wide as she took in the towering machinery. She pointed a clawed finger at the antimatter power core, then at the warp core pulsing lazily in the center at idle. “So, this is where the magic happens,” she murmured.

He chuckled softly. “Magic? Hardly.”

T’Liana turned to him, giving him a playful shove on his arm with her open hand-paw. “I don’t understand how any of this works,” she said, her voice earnest. “I sneak, I shoot, and I protect. That is what I know. To me, this is magic.”

He nodded, looking at the complex machinery. “Well, you have a point. It’s mostly math, physics, and lies.”

T’Liana gave him a look, her ears drooping slightly, it went right over her head. Then, suddenly, her ears went flat against her skull. “Are you making fun of me?”

He smirked, leaning in just a fraction. “Maybe.”

T’Liana didn’t pull back. Instead, she grabbed his bare forearm, her claws extending just enough to press against his skin. She watched his face closely, her eyes searching for a reaction.

Thomas’ smirk got bigger, even as he felt the warm pressure of her paw pads and the sharp, threatening tips of her claws. “See now, that is something you will need to get used to,” he said softly. “For humans, and me, it means I trust you enough to be casual with you.”

T’Liana’s ears twitched, the flatness fading as she processed his words as they were translated. Slowly, she retracted her claws, but she didn’t let go of his arm. She kept her grip, still watching him, her ears raised a bit, and let out a soft huff. “I knew this would not be easy,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “But not like this. I have not changed my mind though.”

Thomas nodded. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy. T’Liana was so different from M’Sara; for one, she wasn’t trained to deal with humans the way M’Sara had been. She was raw, unfiltered, and fiercely protective.

He realized he didn’t really know much else about her, so he asked, “Tell me about your past. I know almost nothing about you.”

T’Liana nodded, her gaze dropping to the deck plates. “I will,” she said, “if we can talk alone. Then you will tell me yours, a fair trade.”

Thomas glanced over his shoulder at M’Sara, who was deep in conversation with R’Kaele, “Let me know if you need me,” he called out. “We will meet you in the rec room.”

With that, he turned and walked back down the corridor, T’Liana falling into step beside him.

As they stepped into the recreation deck, the hum of the ship’s engines faded slightly, replaced by the rhythmic thud of exercise equipment and the low murmur of conversation. T’Liana paused near the mats, her tail twitching with interest. She pointed a clawed finger at the padded surface.

“We exercise,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “I find that relaxing. We talk while we stretch.”

Thomas nodded. It was a sentiment he shared with M’Sara; the physical exertion always cleared his mind. The gym wasn’t empty—humans and Katzen alike were pumping iron or running on treadmills—but the mats were clear. The ambient noise of the room made it feel private, a bubble of isolation amidst the ship’s hum.

T’Liana moved to the mat, sitting with a fluid grace that belied her strength. She patted the space in front of her, then pointed a finger at her own feet.

“You hold my feet,” she instructed. “Help me with my legs. They get tight after being in armor for so long.”

Thomas nodded, his own calves burning from earlier. “Be happy to,” he said. “You do the same for me.”

T’Liana gave a small flick of her ears, acknowledging the agreement. He kicked off his boots, removed his socks and settled onto the mat. He reached out, taking hold of her leg just above her ankles, her paw pads almost in his face. Her fur was soft, and her muscles were dense, corded like steel cables.

“Now, lift and separate them,” T’Liana commanded softly, her voice barely rising above the ambient noise. “Your arms are nice and long. Lift them until you feel them resist and hold them there.”

He obeyed, lifting her legs into the air and spreading them apart. He found himself positioned between her thighs, his head level with her ears. He applied gentle pressure, feeling the resistance of her hamstrings.

T’Liana braced with her hands behind her, her posture rigid but her eyes soft. She spoke, her voice just loud enough for his comm to pick up.

“I’m an orphan,” she began. “My parents were on a new shared Katzen and Draschlägerchen colony planet when pirates raided it, killing us with abandon. I was young, about seven cycles, and small. I hid in the rubble. The marines that landed to thwart the attack found me, even though they were too late to help those who had died.”

Thomas froze, his grip tightening imperceptibly. He kept quiet, letting the silence hang between them, listening to the raw pain in her voice.

T’Liana took a sharp breath, her tail curling tightly around her. The memories still hurt, fresh as the day they happened. After another few minutes of silence, she exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steadying. “That is good. Now your turn.”

Thomas nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Just remember,” he said, “humans are not as flexible as you are.”

They switched positions. T’Liana now held his legs by the calves, her legs spreading to bracket his hips. Her arms were shorter than his, so she had to scoot closer, her knees pressing against his flanks. It was the best angle she could manage given the height difference.

T’Liana leaned forward, she looked up at him and her eyes locked onto his. She continued her story, her tone shifting from grief to steely resolve.

“I was raised at an orphanage on Katzewelt, put through school. I looked up to and respected those marines, I wanted to be one when I grew up, so I joined as soon as I was able. They put me through training for a quarter cycle. I did so well I went into special ops training for a cycle, and here I am.”

Thomas felt the blood rush back into his toes as T’Liana lowered his legs back to the deck. He flexed them, the sensation of pins and needles fading into a pleasant warmth.

T’Liana shifted, her tail swishing once behind her. T’Liana described what they would do next and it sounded to him like a cross-legged fold. She sat cross-legged, her feet tucked neatly to the sides. He followed suit, sitting in front of her. His legs were longer, so her knees pressed firmly against his shins just below the knee.

They leaned forward, keeping their spines straight. They reached back, grabbing each other’s upper backs, fingers digging in slightly. Slowly, they applied downward pressure, folding at the hips. The stretch pulled at his hamstrings, but he held firm, feeling the tension in T’Liana’s back as well.

“I guess it is my turn,” Thomas whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the gym equipment. He leaned closer to her ear comm clipped on her ear that translated for her. “My parents that raised me are Fred Hauer and M’Ross T’Ress.”

He explained how his birth mother had died when he was young, leaving a void that M’Ross filled. He spoke of the unique dynamic of being raised with a Katzen guardian, how it had shaped his worldview and his appreciation for cooperation between species. He described the cultural differences that made growing up difficult in some ways, better in others.

As they slowly, they let each other go, and sat up T’Liana, with her ears half down said, “You suffered a loss of a parent as a youngling too.”

Thomas smiled softly and nodded, “Yeah, something we have in common, that no one should.”

Now T’Liana described something to him that he thought resembled a reclined partner pigeon stretch. T’Liana laid on her back with her legs extended and arms to her sides.

He sat right up against her between her legs then bent her left knee, placing that foot flat. He then brought her right shin across her left leg, holding it just above the knee. He took her left foot and placed it on his knee. T’Liana’s hips remained on the deck, her posture open and vulnerable.

“Not only does stretching together help our fitness,” he said to himself, adjusting his grip on her leg, “but it builds trust in each other.”

He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. “I have looked at the stars since I was young. My father had gotten me a mirrored telescope for the back yard. I was very good with computers, and loved fixing electronics as a kid. I got into University to the Stars easily. I met M’Sara my first year. We clashed.”

He switched her legs, crossing the other one over, and continued. “But we worked through it. We had to.” He went into details of how they became partners, explaining the friction and the eventual understanding that made them a formidable team.

As Thomas eased T’Liana out of the pose T’Liana said, “I really appreciate you exercising with me, now it is time to get serious.”

That was when the sound of soft steps approached. M’Sara walked into the recreation area, her tail held high. She looked at the two of them, her eyes bright.

“Good to see you two exercising together,” she said, her ears tilting forward in approval.

M’Sara extended a hand-paw to each of them, her grip firm despite her small stature. Thomas was always surprised by the raw strength in her, a testament to the dense, powerful muscle structure that defined her species.

“We just finished our stretches,” he explained, his voice casual. “We should help you do yours.”

T’Liana twitched an ear in agreement, her eyes bright with anticipation.

M’Sara settled onto the deck, her posture relaxed but alert. Thomas and T’Liana moved to assist her, positioning themselves to guide her limbs through the range of motion. As they worked, Thomas and T’Liana ended up, side by side, T’Liana’s dark orange fur brushing against his arm, the scent of her musk mixing with the sterile air of the rec room.

He glanced at T’Liana, then back at M’Sara. “May I tell her about your past?”

T’Liana gave M’Sara a long look, her ears perked forward, a silent signal that she cared deeply for her friend. “Please,” she said softly.

Thomas began to explain, his hands moving as he spoke, detailing the tragedy of T’Liana’s orphanhood and her journey from a victim of piracy to a hardened marine. M’Sara listened intently, her eyes wide, processing the story with a gravity that made the air around them heavy.

As they moved through the final set of stretches for M’Sara’s chest muscles and legs. T’Liana held her arms out to the sides and behind her head, while Thomas gently lifted her feet, extending her legs fully. M’Sara’s muscles rippled under her melanistic fur, lean and powerful.

Suddenly, the general comms speakers crackled to life. Captain Valerius’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp and unyielding, echoing through the bulkheads.

“Attention,” the captain boomed. “The rest of our fleet will enter the system in six hours. The pirate patrol remains unaware of our presence. M’Sara, Thomas, meet Squad Gamma-Nine at the training room immediately. Boarding drills will commence on your arrival. Dismissed.”

The sharp tone was followed by the chiming of T’Liana’s personal comm unit clipped to her ear.

They broke the stretch and rose to their feet. As they headed out of the rec room and down the corridor, Thomas sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to do our exercise another day.”

M’Sara playfully poked him in the side with one finger, her eyes glinting with mischief as she said in Katzen, “Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure you are worked hard later.”

T’Liana let out a huff that was a Katzen laugh. “I want to help you work him hard, and make it harder.”

He choked out a laugh, his face flushing slightly. “Phrasing!”

M’Sara playfully punched Thomas in his thigh, the impact surprisingly solid for her size. She then sped up her pace, pulling ahead of them, her tail lashing behind her as if she didn’t want to be seen with him after his comment.

“You know your translator did that,” she called back over her shoulder, her voice dropping to a purr as she switched to her native tongue. “Knock it off.”

T’Liana looked confused, her ears swiveling halfway up and to the side, her tail twitching in question.

As they descended the stairs and moved through the busy corridors, the atmosphere shifted. Katzen marines and crew, along with a few human crew members, hurried in the same direction. The air grew thick with tension, the hum of the ship’s engines seeming to vibrate in their chests.

T’Liana walked beside Thomas, her movements silent despite her urgency. M’Sara walked ahead, her stride efficient, moving with the natural grace of a digitigrade predator.

As they neared the training room, T’Liana paused and grabbed his arm, her grip tight. Her ears swiveled, catching sounds that he couldn’t hear. “Thomas,” she murmured, her voice low. “You’re soft. But sharp.” She tapped her chest, then his temple. “We will come out on top.”

He exhaled, the weight of the mission pressing against his ribs. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

M’Sara glanced back, her eyes glinting in the corridor lights. “Focus, both of you. The pirates won’t know what hit them.” She spoke again in Katzen, her voice low and clear. “We’ve trained for this.”

The door to the training room hissed open, revealing a cavernous space equipped with advanced training simulators and obstacle courses. Rows of mock frigate schematics lined the bulkheads, and armed marines stood at attention, the cold gleam of their weapons reflecting the overhead lights.

T’Liana’s claws extended with a soft sound, her body going rigid with readiness. She was prepared.

And so, Thomas thought, was he.

The group entered the spacious area. K’Tharr, the squad leader, wasted no time. His ears were flat in focused intensity. Flanking him were twins—a golden-brown Löwe and a pale gold one whose fur bristled subtly at the edges.

K’Tharr barked out orders, assigning roles and outlining the plan with military precision. M’Sara and Thomas were to lead the tech team, their responsibility being to hack into the frigate’s systems once the marines cleared the path. The marines would provide cover fire, ensuring their safe passage to the bridge.

“Attention T’Liana,” K’Tharr commanded.

T’Liana stood at rigid attention, her ears perked forward, catching every nuance of K’Tharr’s voice. The adrenaline of the briefing mixed with the heavy weight of the mission. She was eager to prove her worth, but the reality of the Serpent’s Coil pressed down on her, a cold stone in her stomach.

M’Sara, observing the subtle stiffness in T’Liana’s shoulders, stepped closer. She placed a firm, reassuring hand-paw on the marine’s arm, her touch grounding.

K’Tharr, his voice a low rumble, addressed T’Liana directly. “You are assigned to guard the engineers,” he stated, his tail twitching once. “You will train with them, ensuring their safety until the systems are compromised.”

“You’ve got this,” M’Sara said softly, switching to her native tongue. The words were simple, but the warmth in her eyes conveyed a depth of trust that Thomas knew was rare for her. “We’re in this together.”

T’Liana nodded, her tail giving a slow, deliberate twitch of acknowledgment. She took a deep breath, the air filling her lungs, centering herself. The fear didn’t vanish, but it was banked, ready to fuel her.

The drills began immediately. The training room transformed into a chaotic ballet of motion. The marines moved with a synchronized lethality that Thomas found breathtaking. K’Tharr led the charge, his massive Togartz frame cutting through the obstacle course with terrifying speed, his black-and-orange stripes a blur.

As they worked, he couldn’t help but admire the efficiency and discipline of his Katzen counterparts. M’Sara’s calm, calculated demeanor contrasted sharply with T’Liana’s raw, explosive energy. It was a dynamic that was both complementary and inspiring. He watched T’Liana move, a blur of fur and muscle, her eyes scanning the perimeter even as she engaged a training drone with practiced ease.

He knew that together, they stood more than a fighting chance against the Serpent’s Coil.



So Falls the Prey

The docking clamps disengaged with a soft thud, the vibration fading as the Hegh’ta slipped into the void. The cloaking field shimmered, then stabilized, masking the vessel as it charted a course to intercept the four patrolling pirate frigates. Hours stretched ahead, a window of time to prepare. Thomas and M’Sara, along with the Gamma-Nine squad, converged on the armory. The air here smelled of ozone and polished metal, a sharp contrast to the recycled atmosphere of the rest of the ship.

In the armory, every crew member had a locker with custom-fit gear. M’Sara stood before her locker, her tail swishing with a rhythmic, hypnotic beat. She shed her shorts, tossing them aside with a casual flick of her wrist, and turned to face Thomas. Her dark fur gleamed under the armory’s harsh lighting, highlighting the sculpted, muscular lines of her hips and legs.

“Still nervous?” she purred, her voice a low rumble that vibrated in the air.

He grinned, his thumb tracing the curve of her arm. “Nervous? I’m excited. You know how I get when there’s a challenge.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

M’Sara’s ears swiveled, catching the sound of his voice. She leaned into him, rubbing her muzzle against his side, her whiskers twitching. “Need a hand?” she asked.

Thomas stepped closer. “Always, but your first.” He reached into her locker and retrieved the sleek, form-fitting flexible under-suite designed for her physiology. It featured padded slots at the hips for her tail and an open-toed construction that left her padded, fur-covered toes exposed, the material designed to wick moisture and regulate temperature. He carefully guided it over her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her warm fur. “Careful now, don’t want to pull your fur on those magnificent legs.”

M’Sara chuckled, a throaty sound. “Trying to distract me, human?” She stepped onto the bench, her digitigrade stance shifting the weight to her toes. She deftly got his suit and maneuvered it over his shoulders, her hand-paws surprisingly strong. “It’s working.”

“Merely ensuring a proper fit,” Thomas replied, his voice laced with amusement. He continued to work, his movements efficient and gentle. “Wouldn’t want your fur getting pulled or bunched during our boarding action.”

“I assure you, I’m quite alright with doing it myself,” M’Sara retorted, arching her back slightly. “Though a little assistance is always appreciated.”

He smiled, “With my help it is more enjoyable however.”

“Indeed,” M’Sara purred, stepping back to assess her work. “Perfect. Now, let’s get this armor on before someone decides we’re slacking.”

The banter was a deliberate attempt to ease the tension, a familiar routine they performed now before any operation of this magnitude. It was a comfort, a reassurance that even in the face of danger, they had each other as a teilhaber.

They worked in tandem, the familiar motions a comfortable sequence. The plates of the armor clicked into place, conforming to their feline and human forms. The weight settled on their shoulders, a reassuring presence.

T’Liana, her eyes sharp and focused, approached them, her helmet tucked under one arm. She looked every bit the predator, her eyes scanning the room. “Alright, you two. Enough messing around. Let’s get you combat-ready.”

She began a meticulous inspection of M’Sara, her hand-paws running over the armor joints, checking for secure connections. “Armor integrity nominal. Vambrace computer functioning. Plasma carbine secured. Good.” She moved on to Thomas, repeating the process with the same efficiency. “Human modifications holding. Vambrace online. Carbine check. Satisfactory.”

“Always a pleasure, T’Liana,” Thomas said, his voice steady. “You’re a perfectionist.”

“Someone has to be,” T’Liana replied dryly. “We don’t want any surprises when we’re boarding that pirate ship.” She paused, her gaze sweeping over them both. “Remember the briefing. Stun settings only unless they present an immediate threat. We need information, not corpses.” She almost sounded like she was saying that more for herself then them. She looked at Thomas, her expression softening just a fraction. “Especially you. Don’t get distracted. Stay on target.”

K’Tharr’s voice boomed from the comms, cutting through the low hum of the armory. “Gamma-Nine, listen up! We’ve got to be ready for the boarding action. Marines will secure the ship, focusing on the engine room, bridge, and computer core. Once cleared, Thomas and M’Sara will head to the computer core with T’Liana as escort. We need to download everything – navigation data, inventory logs, anything that can help us track these pirates’ location where they took the younglings. Remember what happened on the K’hara colony ship. D’Ressa is still recovering. We don’t want a repeat of that ambush.”

A grim silence fell over the room, the memory of the attack still fresh in their minds. They knew what was at stake. They moved to the Staging Deck, a large, utilitarian space designed for training and briefings. Final checks were made—weapon systems calibrated, comms channels established, and boarding protocols reviewed. The air crackled with anticipation.

Then, the comm speakers crackled to life. Captain Valerius’s voice, calm and authoritative, filled the room. “All hands, prepare for engagement. The rest of the fleet is inbound, ETA sixteen minutes. The four pirate frigates remain unaware of our presence. Gamma-Nine, you are a go for boarding. Good luck.”

The Hegh’ta held its breath, cloaked and silent, watching the pirate ships drift through the void. Then, a ripple in space-time announced the arrival of the CAW fleet—a cruiser, two destroyers, and four more frigates dropping out of warp on the other side of the pirates.

Without warning, the CAW ships opened fire, unleashing a barrage of EM weapons. The pirate frigates, caught completely off guard, began to panic, turning to flee.

And then, the Hegh’ta uncloaked, appearing directly in front of the lead pirate frigate, cutting off its escape. The pirates, their faces contorted with fear, stared in disbelief as the sleek, neutron alloy prototype frigate materialized before them.

“Pirates are attempting to evade,” J’Tan reported from the tactical station. “They’re not going down without a fight.”

One pirate frigate, its engines crippled but still functional, managed to maneuver slightly, attempting to break free. A volley of laser fire slammed against the Hegh’ta’s shields, causing a visible strain. After another volley of EM fire, the pirate vessel went dark.

The Hegh’ta loomed over the crippled pirate vessel like a predator circling its prey, magnetic clamps biting into the hull of the pirate frigate with a metallic screech that vibrated through the deck plates. Inside the airlock, Thomas adjusted the straps of his armor, the helmet’s visor flickering as it synced with the ship’s systems. Beside him, M’Sara crouched low, her hand-paws deftly working a panel of the pirate’s outer docking hatch. Her fur bristled faintly under the dim emergency lights—nervousness, or maybe the static from the pirate ship’s damaged systems.

The airlock hissed, a reluctant exhale of atmosphere as he stepped inside and worked, fingers flying across the interface panel. M’Sara was at his side, her hand-paw resting lightly on his arm, offering silent, focused support.

The airlock of the Hegh’ta was a tight space. Thomas and M’Sara stood side by side, their fingers flying across the holographic interfaces on their vambrace as they worked to bypass the inner airlock hatch security protocols of the disabled pirate ship. Power was being supplied by the marines for the hatch, a necessary measure given the pirate vessel’s compromised power grid.

“Almost there,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the shifting lines of code before him. He could feel M’Sara’s presence beside him, her warmth a comforting constant. “Just need to override the lock sequence.”

M’Sara nodded, her eyes reflecting the flickering light. “I’m routing power to some of the auxiliary systems,” she said, her voice calm and focused. “It should create a temporary blind spot in their sensors.” She leaned in closer, touching his faceplate with a click with the comm off she said, “If they try to seal the hatch from the inside, I’ll cut the manual override. Just give me the signal.”

The airlock cycle finished with a heavy pneumatic hiss, the sound echoing through the small compartment. The outer door retracted with a metallic clank, revealing the silhouettes of the CAW marine squad, clad in their armor.

Thomas and M’Sara pressed themselves flat against the bulkheads, their armored backs against the cold metal. M’Sara, a Luchs of small stature, squeezed into the corner, her tail tucked tightly between her legs—a sign of nervous energy. She glanced up at him, her eyes wide, before she flattened her ears against her head, her helmet mimicking her ear movement.

The marines of Squad Gamma-Nine spilled out into the corridor of the pirate frigate, their movements fluid and precise. They didn’t walk; they flowed, digitigrade boots striking the deck with a soft, rhythmic thud. He watched as they fanned out, weapons at the ready, the faint light from the corridor reflecting off their armor plating.

K’Tharr V’Rell paused at the threshold. He looked back at the engineers, his eyes narrowing slightly. He tilted one ear forward, a silent acknowledgment of their presence.

“Stay frosty,” K’Tharr barked, his voice low and gruff over the comms.

T’Liana remained at the rear of the formation. She didn’t step out immediately. Her eyes scanned the darkness of the corridor with a sharp intensity, her ears of her armor swiveling to catch every sound. She looked back at Thomas and M’Sara, her expression serious.

“Stay close,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Let’s show them what a CAW boarding action looks like,” K’Tharr said, his voice crisp over the comms as he led his squad deeper into the ship.

The three of them waited in tense silence, the airlock lights flickering sporadically above them. The ship groaned from the forced docking, the vibration rattling the deck plates. M’Sara shifted slightly, her hand brushing against the armor of Thomas’ arm before she settled back into a crouch, her toes gripping the deck for balance. They were cut from the comms.

Minutes dragged by, the only sound the distant, muffled clatter of weapons being readied through the corridors. Then, a sharp bark echoed from somewhere deeper in the ship, followed by the crackle of plasma fire.

Inside the pirate frigate, the marines moved like shadows. The engine room was the first target, its walls lined with glowing control panels. The marines surged forward, a wave of disciplined aggression. They deployed stun weapons, prioritizing incapacitation over lethal force. The pirates, caught completely off guard by the sudden, coordinated assault, offered desperate, disorganized resistance.

The next few minutes stretched into an eternity, punctuated by the muffled reports of stun guns and the terse commands of K’Tharr. The marines moved with methodical precision, clearing each section of the pirate frigate, working their way towards the engine room, then the bridge, and finally the computer core.

“They’re disorganized, but they’re putting up a fight,” K’Tharr reported, his voice strained. “Heavy resistance in the bridge.” The confined corridors echoed with the crackle of stun weapons and the grunts of struggling pirates. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and fear.

“They’re using improvised explosives,” K’Tharr continued. “Be careful.”

“Status report, K’Tharr,” Captain Valerius demanded over the comms. The voice was calm, authoritative.

A sudden crash could be heard, then K’Tharr’s voice crackled back: “We’ve got hostiles in the computer core! Secure the bridge now!”

After a few minutes, and more sounds of resistance, “Bridge secured,” K’Tharr responded. “We’re moving to the computer core now. No casualties on our side. Pirates are… not exactly professional.”

A chuckle rippled through the bridge. Even in the midst of battle, a sense of grim satisfaction permeated the air.

“Good work, marines,” Captain Valerius said. “Secure the computer core. We need that data. Then, prepare the pirates for interrogation in their mess hall.”

Thomas glanced at M’Sara. She was watching the door, her ears flicking nervously. “They won’t be getting away with anything,” he said, a small smile touching his lips.

“Computer core secure,” K’Tharr’s voice crackled over the comms a few minutes later. “No more resistance. Engineers, you’re clear to enter.”

Thomas exchanged a sharp glance with M’Sara, the silent communication passing between them instantly. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low. He reached up and tapped the interface on his vambrace computer, the device humming to life with a soft, blue light.

They moved cautiously, flanking and following T’Liana, who took the lead. The marine’s armor was a matte finish that blended into the shadows, but her presence was undeniable. The computer core was a cramped, utilitarian space, a claustrophobic box filled with humming servers and a tangled mess of cabling that looked like a nest of black, red and yellow vipers.

The marines had already secured the perimeter, their weapons trained on the access ports leading from the bridge. D’Ressa would have been in her element here, surrounded by the complex wiring and data streams, but Thomas knew he didn’t need her technical expertise for this specific extraction. He and M’Sara were more than capable of handling the data retrieval.

“Alright,” he said, activating the primary interface on his vambrace. “Let’s see what these pirates were hiding.”

M’Sara immediately moved to his side, her smaller frame allowing her to squeeze into the tight space and he did not mind her encroaching on his personal space. She rested her hand-paws on the console, her fingers dancing across the holographic keys. “Their firewalls are… surprisingly sophisticated,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the cascading data streams. “They’ve been actively scrubbing data. It’s like trying to catch smoke.”

“Of course,” Thomas muttered, his brow furrowing as he bypassed the initial layers of security. “They knew someone would come looking, but they had no idea it would be us.” He delved deeper, bypassing encryption protocols and accessing deleted files, piecing them back together. It was second nature for him, a skill honed since he was young. The data stream flowed across his vambrace display, a chaotic jumble of code and fragmented images.

“Anything?” M’Sara asked, her voice tight with concentration. She leaned in closer, her armor brushing against his.

“Mostly garbage,” he replied, his eyes darting across the screen. “Financial records, shipping manifests… standard pirate fare. Wait…” He paused, his fingers flying across the interface. “There’s hidden disconnected data. Heavily encrypted.”

He worked for several minutes, utilizing a combination of brute force and algorithmic analysis, cross-referencing data obtained from the other pirate system they had captured earlier. Finally, the directory opened, revealing a single, pulsing file. He opened it, and a name flashed across the screen: Dr. T’Lyra F’Rel.

As they worked, T’Liana stayed vigilant, her back pressed right up against theirs in the tight space. Her sharp eyes scanned every corner of the room, ceiling to floor, her ears swiveling to catch the slightest sound. She had developed quite the protective streak over the last few rotations, her instincts flaring at the slightest hint of danger.

“Who is that?” M’Sara asked, poking her head over his arm to peer at the display. Her hand-paw resting gently on his chest armor.

Thomas frowned, running the name through the CAW database aboard the Hegh’ta. The search took a moment, the holographic display shifting as it pulled up records. “A Katzen scientist,” he said slowly. “Specializing in… terraforming. And… she disappeared five years ago. Officially listed as ‘missing, presumed deceased.’”

He looked up at M’Sara, their visors almost touching, a growing sense of unease settling in his stomach. The name didn’t belong here.

T’Liana leaned closer, her focus unwavering, “Could be a lead, could be someone they are after, could be nothing,” she suggested, her voice steady and purposeful, though her hand remained near her weapon. “But if she’s listed here, maybe she’s not dead.”

The mess hall of the pirate frigate was a stark contrast to the modern amenities of the Hegh’ta. It was dimly lit, with flickering overhead lights casting long, jagged shadows across the metallic decks and bulkheads. The air was thick with the scent of alien biology—sharp, acrid, and unfamiliar. Marines from Squad Gamma-Nine moved through the room with precision, their heavy armor clanking softly against the deck. They herded a motley collection of prisoners into the center of the room.

The prisoners were a mix of reptilian Xylar and insectoid Kryll. The Xylar hissed and spat, their scales glistening under the harsh lights. The Kryll buzzed angrily, their exoskeletons glinting as they struggled against the marines’ grip. Despite their different physiologies, both species shared a common expression of defiance and fear.

K’Tharr watched from the doorway, he tilted one ear slightly to the side, his expression unreadable. “Secure them,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm. He watched as the marines efficiently bound the prisoners with energy shock cuffs, ensuring they couldn’t resist further. “We’ll start preliminary interrogations shortly.”

Meanwhile, in the cramped computer core of the pirate ship, the atmosphere was tense but focused. Thomas sat on a makeshift chair, his back against a bulkhead. M’Sara was seated on his lap, her small frame fitting easily between his legs. Her tail curled over his leg, her eyes narrowing as she read over his arm. Perched on his shoulders was T’Liana, the Lehpparr marine. She was taller than M’Sara, but her lithe frame allowed her to balance easily on his shoulders, her tail slowly waving over his head, her hands hovering over her plasma carbine.

His fingers flew across the holographic interface projected from his vambrace, while M’Sara’s hand-paws danced over hers. They were deep into their work, searching for and decrypting files.

M’Sara leaned closer, “It’s corrupted. Most of it’s garbage, but there are fragments of data about an asteroid in the KT-3785 system.”

“KT-3785,” T’Liana chimed in from her perch, her voice soft but alert. “I’ve heard of that star system. It’s on the edge of explored space, right? No CAW ships go there.”

M’Sara turned to Thomas, her large, feline ears swiveling slightly. “Terrans know it as Kepler-186, it is partial, but something about an asteroid there,” she explained, her voice a melodic rumble.

Thomas nodded, his eyes scanning the data streams. “The pirates were onto something big. Maybe a mining operation—or worse.”

M’Sara hummed in agreement, her tail twitching as she accessed another fragmented file. “We’ll have to piece this together. But for now, all we know is that an asteroid holds some importance to them.”

“Important enough for them to risk their lives—and ours,” he said, glancing up and behind him at T’Liana. Her ears twitched solemnly, her eyes scanning the shadows.

As Thomas and M’Sara uploaded the data to the Hegh’ta via a secure connection on their vambrace computers, T’Liana’s eyes never left the shadows. Her focus was unbroken. And for the first time since they boarded the pirate frigate, her tail relaxed—just slightly—curling in quiet resolve.



The Time is Ripe

The inner airlock of the Hegh’ta hissed, the pneumatic seal locking into place with a heavy thud that vibrated through the deck. The sound was a welcome anchor after the chaotic, adrenaline-fueled rush of the pirate frigate. Thomas, T’Liana, and M’Sara moved in tandem toward the armory, the weight of their armor seeming to increase with every step. The dim lighting cast long, skeletal shadows against the bulkheads, the tension of the mission still clinging to their shoulders like a second skin.

M’Sara worked with practiced efficiency, tossing her helmet aside with a metallic thunk before moving to help T’Liana peel off the heavy synth-weave of their combat under-suits. Thomas, already halfway undressed, pulled a clean, soft cotton T-shirt over his sweat-damp chest, the fabric a stark, comforting contrast to the armor. He slid into his jeans, the denim rough against his skin. He watched as M’Sara handed T’Liana a pair of off-duty shorts—simple, practical, and a relief after the rigid confinement of their gear.

With their armor stowed away, they made their way toward the medbay. T’Liana stayed close to his side, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her fingers gripping him just a fraction too tightly. She leaned into him slightly, seeking comfort in his presence, though she tried to hide it by tilting her ears back slightly. It was clear she was disappointed she hadn’t participated in the combat; her tail gave away her restlessness, twitching behind her legs like a metronome counting down.

The corridors of the Hegh’ta felt tighter than usual, the air thick with the unspoken weight of the unknown. They had gained so little concrete information from the pirate frigate. Whether the other boarding teams had been more successful, they did not know yet. Thomas, M’Sara, and T’Liana moved in a loose trio, their footsteps echoing softly against the bulkheads. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the anticipation of what lay ahead.

M’Sara’s short, dark fur was sleek under the artificial light, her eyes gleaming as she glanced over at Thomas. He walked beside her, his thumbs stuffed casually into his jeans pockets, a faint smile playing on his lips. T’Liana padded slightly behind them now, her eyes wide with curiosity, her tail flicking idly as she took in the not-so-unfamiliar sights and sounds of the ship.

They rounded a corner and entered the medbay. The sterile environment contrasted sharply with the cramped, gritty computer core they had left behind. The room was small, with two narrow beds flanked by monitors and a tangle of medical equipment. D’Ressa lay in one of the beds, her tawny fur matted slightly from medical treatments, but her eyes were sharp as she looked up at them.

As they entered, Thomas said, “Hey, we got your message.”

The medbay was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic hum of life support systems and the occasional beep of monitoring equipment. Thomas, M’Sara, and T’Liana stepped inside, their footsteps echoing slightly on the sterile white deck. D’Ressa was awake, propped up in her bed, the sheets pulled up to her waist. She looked up as they entered, her tawny fur glistening faintly under the overhead lights.

“Welcome,” D’Ressa said, her voice soft but accented heavier than normal by her Katzewelt origins and the grogginess of pain medication. “Thomas, M’Sara. T’Liana.”

M’Sara sat down on a chair, her tail twitching nervously, her short legs swinging slightly above the deck. He perched on the edge of the other chair, his gaze flickering to the portable workstation beside D’Ressa. It was set up on a fold-out table, the interface angled so she could reach it easily without straining.

T’Liana, feeling more comfortable around them now, climbed into his lap. The Lehpparr marine leaned against his chest, her dark orange coat dotted with sparse rosettes blending with the dark fabric of his shirt. Her eyes flickered between the data scrolling on D’Ressa’s halo-display and the faces of her companions, her tail going over his leg with the tip curled.

“Any change?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with a tremor of concern.

D’Ressa shook her head, the motion slow and deliberate. Her ears flattened slightly against her skull, a sign of frustration. “No. The scans show good progress, but I’ll need more time. I’m still waiting on data from the other three boarding parties.”

D’Ressa tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. “I reviewed your preliminary reports. The mention of Dr. T’Lyra F’Rel... she was a highly respected scientist. Her disappearance is troubling.”

M’Sara frowned, her eyes narrowing as she considered the implications. “The data we retrieved was heavily corrupted,” she said. “But what we could salvage suggested that the asteroid in the KT-3785 might be some kind of storage facility—or worse, a mine, or maybe something else.”

D’Ressa’s ears twitched at the word “mine.” “A mine?” she repeated, her voice tinged with concern. “That would explain why the pirates were interested. But why send Dr. F’Rel there? She was a terraforming specialist, not a miner.”

Thomas stroked T’Liana’s thick fur on her side and chest absently, his fingers tangling gently in the cream colored fur. She leaned into his touch, a low, rumbling purr vibrating through her chest and into his lap. It was a sound that seemed to soothe her nerves and his.

“We thought it might be weapons,” Thomas said, his eyes never leaving D’Ressa. “Illegal tech. But the scans were… inconclusive. Like they were trying to hide something from the scans, not just obscure it.”

For the next hour, they delved deeper into the recovered data, piecing together fragments of information like a complex puzzle. D’Ressa, despite her injury, was the driving force, her innate engineering knowledge and meticulous attention to detail proving invaluable. She requested clearance from the Captain and navigated the CAW databases with a speed and efficiency that left Thomas in awe, her hand-paws dancing across the portable interface.

“Wait…” D’Ressa’s voice was sharper now, her ears twitching. She’d pulled up a historical archive, her golden eyes scanning the data stream rapidly. “This… this is interesting.”

She brought up a file labeled ‘KT-3785 – Colonization Assessment.’ The screen was filled with reports, schematics, and personnel logs, the text scrolling rapidly.

“KT-3785f… it was a prime candidate for colonization. Habitable zone, abundant nearby resources… everything looked good.” D’Ressa’s voice was tight with a growing realization. “Dr. T’Lyra F’Rel… she was the lead scientist on the assessment team. Sent to the KT-3785 system five years ago, in a planetary survey ship with twenty-one crew.”

M’Sara leaned closer, her brow furrowed. “What happened?”

D’Ressa scrolled through the report, her expression grim. “The survey ship and crew were lost. No distress signal, no wreckage found. Officially, it was written off as a navigational error, a tragic accident.”

“But…?” Thomas prompted, sensing the unspoken conclusion.

“The colonization project was abruptly canceled. KT-3785f was removed from the list of prospective colony planets. And the official explanation… it was vague. Something about ‘unforeseen geological instability’ and ‘unacceptable risk factors.’” D’Ressa paused, her gaze meeting his. “That’s not what happened.”

She tapped another control, bringing up a redacted section of the report. “This section… it was classified even before the ship went missing. It details Dr. F’Rel’s initial findings. She discovered something on KT-3785f. Something… artificial.”

“Artificial?” M’Sara echoed, her voice laced with disbelief.

D’Ressa nodded, her ears flattening slightly. “She believed it was a structure. Buried deep beneath the surface. And she suspected… it wasn’t built by anyone CAW had ever encountered.” She looked at Thomas, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “The pirates weren’t guarding an asteroid. They were guarding a secret. A secret someone wanted to stay buried.”

He scratched his chin thoughtfully, the stubble catching the light. “Maybe they wanted to use her expertise for something else,” he said. “Or perhaps she was captured and forced to work against her will.”

T’Liana shifted restlessly in his lap, her tail flicking nervously against his thigh. “Either way,” she said softly, her eyes wide, “we need to find out what’s going on there. Those poor Katzen younglings... they deserve to live their life free.”

D’Ressa nodded solemnly. “Agreed. But we cannot do this alone. We need the captain to hear our findings. I’m sending him the preliminary findings.”

As they discussed their next steps, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The mention of Dr. F’Rel and the asteroid in the Kepler-186 system brought back memories of Elara; she loved mysteries. Her bright, inquisitive eyes haunted him still.

Without even realizing it, Thomas hugged T’Liana to him, burying his face briefly in her neck fur. She leaned into it, purring louder, a grounding presence in the storm of his thoughts.

But now was not the time for grief. Now was the time to act.

“Alright,” Thomas said, placing his hands on T’Liana’s hips and gently guiding her down. He stood up after her, smoothing out his jeans. “Let’s get this meeting organized. We need more information and answers—and we need them fast.”

M’Sara stood as well, her movements fluid and graceful. “I’ll start preparing the data for presentation,” she said. “D’Ressa, you’ll be joining us remotely?”

“Yes,” D’Ressa replied, her voice steady. “I will ensure all our findings are clearly presented.”

T’Liana leaned back into him, her presence a comforting weight against him. “We… together,” she said, her voice soft.

He smiled, his heart swelling with gratitude. “Indeed, we are in this together.” he said, glancing at the door. “Let’s go.”

Later that rotation, the four of the main engineering staff gathered in the ready room, the air thick with the low, rhythmic thrum of the ship’s life support system. The bulkheads were lined with holographic displays, casting shifting, blue-tinted shadows across the faces of the bridge officers. D’Ressa, still confined to the medbay, joined them remotely; her image flickered slightly on a holo-display near where she would sit by K’Rell, her voice steady but her English tinged with the faint, melodic lilt of her native tongue.

Captain Valerius listened intently as D’Ressa presented their findings, her eyes scanning the data streams projected in the air. Lieutenant J’Tan R’Astraea, the tactical officer and Valerius’s Number One, ears twitched thoughtfully, her dark rosettes glinting under the artificial light of the room.

K’Rell, the engineering bridge officer, sat at attention in his seat, his back straight, his expression gruff as he listened to the proceedings. The room was filled with a tense energy, the weight of the upcoming mission pressing down on them all.

Finally, Captain Valerius spoke, his voice firm and decisive. “We’ll make for the KT-3785 system,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the group. “Squad Gamma-Nine will stay assigned to the Hegh’ta. Four scout corvettes will go directly to KT-3785. The rest of our fleet will wait a short jump away at KT-3786. We will decide what to do after we know what is waiting for us.”

The room fell silent once more as the implications of their journey sank in. Thomas exchanged a glance with M’Sara, their unspoken words passing between them like an invisible thread. M’Sara’s tail gave a slow, lazy flick behind her, a sign of her relaxed state despite the tension.

As the meeting drew to a close, D’Ressa’s voice broke the silence once more. “We’ll be ready,” she said simply, her eyes steady and unyielding.

K’Rell looked at the captain, then at D’Ressa, his ears twitching in agreement.

As Thomas and M’Sara walked down the corridor on their way back to engineering, they found T’Liana waiting for them. T’Liana matched their pace, falling into step behind them. After a few more steps, she spoke up. “I’m glad I’m able to stay on board, I like it here. I get to spend time with my pride as well as you two.”

He barked out a short, surprised laugh. The sound was alien to T’Liana; she looked at him with her ears slightly down and her eyes narrowed, clearly unused to that particular human vocalization.

M’Sara fell back beside T’Liana, her stride matching the marine’s. She placed a hand-paw gently on T’Liana’s side. “You are welcome to be with us for as long as you want.”

T’Liana placed her paw on M’Sara’s shoulder, her grip firm. “I want to spend all my off time with you. My marine pride is great, but the change is nice. It is like having a cool down, I can just be myself.”

After Thomas’ translator finished processing what T’Liana said, he stopped and turned to face her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled with his lips, his mouth closed, his eyes crinkling. “You’re a good change of pace too. Glad to have you with us.”

T’Liana, her ears turned slightly to the sides as she met his eyes, looked away briefly before looking back. “Don’t forget, you are to teach me your language and ways.”