Vyrath opens their mouth. Bebo continues.
"Additionally, I was monitoring both parties' biometric data continuously. At no point did Courier Baxter's neurochemical profile indicate duress, coercion, or involuntary bonding response. Her oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin levels during the bonding event were consistent with genuine emotional attachment and voluntary mate-selection, not with trauma bonding or neurological override."
Another pause, this one carrying the specific weight of an AI about to say something devastating.
"I should also note that the bonding was initiated by Courier Baxter. She touched his horns. He did not initiate the contact. The physical act that triggers the bond was performed by the courier on the Varkaani, not the other way around. If there is a biological aggressor in this scenario, Counsel Vyrath, it is my five-foot-two courier, not the seven-foot-two gladiator."
The Corsairian's composure fractures for the first time. A micro-adjustment of posture, the technology at their cuffs flickering. Processing.
"I have the exact timestamp if the panel requires it," Bebo adds. "Oh-three-forty-seven station time. She used both hands. He was, if I may editorialise briefly, not in a position to object."
In the gallery, Crash makes a sound he turns into a cough. Zola has her hand pressed over her mouth. Mother Morrison's coffee mug is frozen halfway to her lips.
Krilly's mortification and triumph in equal measure. Her cheeks burning while the corporate counsel's argument collapses.
"Furthermore," Bebo continues, because Bebo has apparently decided thatthoroughis the only acceptable operating mode, "the xenobiological literature on Varkaani pair-bonding indicates that bonded mates undergo mutual lifespan synchronisation. The bonded human partner's biology adjusts over time to approximate the Varkaani lifespan, and vice versa. The bond is not a temporary alteration with an expiration date. It is a permanent, mutual biological commitment that ensures both partners share equivalent life expectancy."
This lands differently. T'Renn's four arms shift. Sorren's silver scales catch the light as he makes a note.
I didn't know Bebo had researched the lifespan question. Krilly's surprise tells me she didn't either. But her reaction underneath the surprise is fierce, warm certainty:of course. Of course we grow old together. Of course the bond doesn't leave either of us behind.
Vyrath recovers. "The AI is hardly an objective—"
"I am a documented, tamper-evident observational system with four hundred seventy-two hours of continuous biometric data," Bebo says. "I am, by legal definition, the most objective witness in this room."
Mother Morrison testifies as character witness.
She speaks from her seat in the gallery with the authority of twenty-three years running impossible operations.
"I've dispatched Krilly Baxter on exactly one solo run. She crashed, freed enslaved specimens, bonded with a gladiator, and came back with enough evidence to bring down a corporate modification programme." Mother pauses. "That's not typical for a first assignment. But Krilly's parents, Mara and Jakob Baxter, worked Junction One maintenance for nine years. Her mother kept my coffee maker running three years past its expiration date. Her father stayed awake forty-eight hours to patch a comm relay during an evacuation. They died because a corporation decided emergency beacon maintenance wasn't worth the budget cycle."
Her eyes find me.
"Horgox Ka'reen is not a product. He's not a weapon. He's a male who was given every reason to become a monster and chose, at enormous personal cost, to remain a person." She pauses. "I've seen exactly one other being make that choice under that kind of pressure, and I married him."
T'Renn leans forward. "Deputy Director, are you suggesting a parallel?"
"I'm stating that I recognise what it looks like when a good male fights his way out of a bad system. And I'm stating that Courier Baxter has never misjudged a soul worth saving. Not on her first run. Not ever."
The panel confers.
Not three minutes. Seventeen. The three of them in urgent, hushed conversation while the gallery holds its collective breath and I count Krilly's heartbeats in my chest and she counts mine.
Her hand hasn't left mine. Her thumb hasn't stopped its circuit on my wrist. The claiming color on my markings has never held steadier.
Voss straightens.
"The panel has reached a determination."
My body goes still. Arena-still. The motionlessness of a being waiting to learn whether the next moment holds freedom or chains.
"Subject designation HX-347 is hereby rescinded."
Krilly's relief arrives in my chest simultaneously: a full-body shock so acute it makes my vision blur.
"Horgox Ka'reen is recognised as a sentient individual unlawfully detained and modified by ApexCorp BioSolutions in violation of the Sentient Rights Accords."
My markings cycle. Jade to white-gold to opalescent, faster than I can control, my body's emotional display going haywire because nothing in my existence has prepared me for the sound of an institution calling me a person.
