Page 12 of Leviathan

Her fear was a physical reaction, written as clearly in the data as the invisible scars left behind by a myriad of needles that had stabbed into her abdomen and signs of healed trauma in several of her bones. She was also in the early stages of a nutritional deficiency disease, her body lacking a vital nutrient that it required to maintain its structural integrity, making it harder for it to heal from what had been done to her. As a result of the deficiency, she had formed anemia and likely felt additional fatigue and joint pain along with other potential symptoms. The body kept a record, and Maria's matched what I had uncovered in the research data.

I added everything to the report.

It was clear that the research data I had liberated from the station was testing done on Maria and others. I wasn't going to turn that over to the Alliance in its entirety without Maria's permission, as that data belonged to the unwilling test subject, and it wasn't right to hand it over without her consent for anyone to profit or build upon. However, I could give a detailed report of the tests that were done and the evidence of the torture that had been inflicted.

I wasn't going to hand any part of Maria to the Alliance, not unless that was something she wanted, but I would make absolutely certain they knew what had been done to her.

"I am finished," I said, and Maria sat up and got off the scanner, taking several quick steps away from it to the door.

"Good," she said, a small tremor in her voice, but despite that, she got right to the point of what she wanted to know. "What did they do to me?"

She needed to hear it, but not here, in a place where the very equipment was a reminder of her scars.

"Let me show you to one of my gardens while we talk," I said, opening the door as the drone I sent to wait for her waved to her. She followed after it, and I led her through the hallways I recently built into my body to the gardens. I already had hallways for my drones to traverse, but they were smaller, making it more difficult for Calicium to reach my core if I were attacked. For her, I had to reduce that level of security, making the hallways larger, so she could walk freely from one place to the next.

I had her rooms on the outer section, along with a large portion of my storage and empty space, so that she could have views of the stars, whereas the gardens were closer to my middle.

It was a longer walk, but the Shek’invitali medical details for her species indicated they had an easier time with emotional processing if they were moving.

So as she walked, I spoke.

"From what I have extracted from the research files, they were harvesting your eggs and genetically manipulating them in an attempt to create hybrids with their species," I said. "They had a large amount of existing data on your species genetics, as well as hybrid creation utilizing your species genetic material. They appeared to be attempting to make a hybrid that carried the preferred genetics of their species, while also having the fertility of yours. Their species has caused itself several problems with its own self-genetic engineering practices, and it looks like they were looking for a solution that solved the problem without giving up certain traits. Their attempts all failed to mature past basic cell division, and the ones they implanted back in you also failed."

"Gachupines," she spat out, and the translator took a moment, marking it as an antiquated term used as an insult for exploitative outsiders.

"Yes, they have engaged in unethical practices," I agreed.

"Are you sure none of their experiments were viable?" she asked, a tremor in her tone.

"The research data you carried off the station only has failures," I said. "They did not keep your eggs in stock, only harvesting them for each individual experiment. They had no current viable experiments running, but were planning on another cycle of them starting up. You escaped before that began."

"So they weren't planning on killing me," she murmured. "They were going to keep me alive until they got what they needed."

"They will never lay hands on you again," I promised. "I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe."

She stopped in place, looking up in the direction of the nearest vocal projector.

"Do you really mean that?" she asked, her tone lilting upward.

She didn't know me or anything about my culture. She had just been imprisoned for months, tortured, and experimented on. I didn't know how I could reassure her past the walls created by her experiences, but I had to try.

"What was done to you was abhorrent and illegal under the laws of most galactic civilizations, including my people and the Alliance," I said. "I promise you that I will protect you. I will not allow you to be captured again. You are free."

Her shoulders dropped.

"I appreciate hearing that, Lyrien," she said softly.

She didn't say anything else, and I let her walk on in silence, knowing that sometimes it was more important to let words settle into place.

She arrived at the Gardens, and I opened the outer doors, letting her into the hatchway I had to create to keep things contained. Life had a way of spilling out into every open space if there was any way for it to slip through the cracks, and so I made sure those spaces were sustainable. As she stepped through the inner doors into the warm, humid space, I zoomed in on her face so I could catch her minute reactions. The stress melted from her face in the form of lines smoothing and rearranging, every part of her lifting upwards as she took in a deep breath and smiled. She even lifted up off her heels as her hands came up to clasp together in front of her.

The gardens transformed the fury in her body into peace, just as I had hoped.

"You call this a garden?" she asked, her voice breathy with wonder. "This is amazing. Is this around an acre?"

The word translated into forty percent of a hectare.

"This particular garden is around five times that. I'm a considerable size, and this is one of many," I said, enjoying her pleasure as I watched her walk down the path. This particular garden, I let grow a little more wild than the others. I curated it for pleasure more than purpose, letting several of the trees grow so big that I had to adjust the internal lighting around so that they didn't shade out the plants I wanted to thrive down at their roots. I had to expand the space downwards several times to accommodate the growing depth of the roots, but because I was shelllocked, my own growth rate far outpaced the expansion needs of my garden.