The officer glances back once. “That information is classified.”
Then the door closes, sealing me back in the hum and the cold.
I lose track of time. Meals come in through a slot. The food tastes like paste and metal. My dreams taste worse, blood, smoke, her name echoing through the hull. I wake with my claws digging into the wall.
Sometimes I hear voices in the corridor. Human guards joking about prisoners — the “lizard,” the “monster,” the “thing that flattened five marines before they shocked him.” I let them talk. They don’t know I can hear every heartbeat through the walls.
One night the light flickers. A shadow cuts across the glass wall. A voice follows. Female. Calm. Sharp.
“Sergeant Takhiss.”
I know that tone. Not Alliance. Smooth, deliberate. The sound of someone getting their way.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m your advocate,” she says. “Assigned by the Coalition Embassy to ensure your fair treatment.”
I laugh. “The coalition doesn’t care about fairness. Only control.”
“I’m not a Coalition command,” she says. “I'm an Ataxian clergy.”
That makes my spine stiffen. “A priestess?”
“Priestess Autrua,” she confirms. “You will address me with respect.”
“I respect what’s earned.”
Her chuckle is low. “Then perhaps I’ll earn it. You are valuable to us, Takhiss. You survived what no one else did. That makes you both dangerous and… useful.”
“What do you want?”
“Your cooperation. Your loyalty. And eventually, your return.”
I step close to the glass, claws brushing against the transparent barrier. “You think I’m going back? To them?”
“You belong with your people,” she says smoothly. “Not in a human cage.”
“I belong where she is.”
A pause. Then, almost tenderly: “The human? Ella Corleone.”
“Say her name again,” I growl, “and I’ll show you what belonging means.”
She smiles, I can hear it in her voice. “You care for her deeply.”
“She saved my life.”
“That’s not all, is it?”
I say nothing.
Autrua steps closer to the barrier, so close that her reflection overlays mine. Her eyes gleam pale gold, reptilian but serene. “There is more to your connection than you understand. The jalshagar bond is rare across species. Dangerous. But powerful. You are fated, Takhiss. The universe seldom makes mistakes.”
“Fate’s cruel,” I mutter.
“Cruelty can be shaped into strength,” she counters. “You will see.”
Her footsteps fade. The door slides shut. The hum returns.
