Page 27 of Alien Healer's Touch
"As have I." I captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm where the markings converged. "But we should rest now."
She looked startled. "Rest?"
"Dawn will come soon enough," I explained, though it cost me to be practical. "Hammond's hunters will not abandon their search. We will need clear minds to evade them."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You're right, of course. Logical as always, even now."
I smiled at her gentle teasing. "Not always. If I were truly logical, I might never have followed you to your settlement in the first place."
"Then I'm grateful for your occasional lapses." She stepped back, creating space between us, though her eyes promised this conversation was merely postponed, not ended.
I gathered what materials I could to create a more comfortable resting place—soft moss from the cave walls, my outer tunic for her to use as a covering.
"Rest," I urged her. "I will keep watch."
"You need sleep too," she protested.
"Nyxari require less rest than humans." A small stretching of truth. I would need sleep eventually, but tonight I would watch over her. "Please, Selene."
She relented, settling onto the improvised bed. I sat nearby, back against the wall, where I could monitor both her and the cave entrance.
"Kavan?" Her voice came softly through the dim light.
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For everything."
Those simple words carried weight beyond their measure. I nodded, not trusting my voice to remain steady.
As Selene drifted toward sleep, I contemplated our path—a healer who had trained as a warrior, a human doctor marked by Nyxari patterns. Both caught between worlds, between duties and desires.
Now, with Hammond's forces hunting us and the planet itself unstable beneath our feet, we faced dangers I couldn't have foreseen when I first recognized her healing gift. Yet watching over her rest, I knew I would choose no different path, even without knowing what lay ahead.
SELENE
Astrangled gasp tore me from sleep. My heart hammered against my ribs, the phantom sensation of Hammond's grip on my arm lingering, the acrid smell of sparking artifacts sharp in my nostrils. I sat bolt upright, disoriented, the damp chill of the cave seeping into my bones.
"Easy, Selene." Kavan's voice, low and calm, cut through the lingering fragments of the nightmare. Just hearing him say my name steadied something inside me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear it—just that quiet certainty wrapped around the chaos. He sat near the cave entrance, his silhouette framed by the faint light filtering through the waterfall. He hadn't been sleeping.
"Bad dream?" he asked, though I sensed through our strange, budding connection that he already knew.
"Hammond," I managed, rubbing my arms. "The isolation chambers... Claire..." The images were still vivid, horrifying. "He was attaching more artifacts to her markings." I took a shaky breath. "And the patients... Dear God, I hoped Frakes was managing. That the medicine was enough, that it was holding..."
Kavan rose and came to sit beside me, bringing a subtle warmth that eased the cave's chill. He didn't touch me, respecting the boundary I hadn't known how to ask for, but his presence was a comfort. He didn’t ask me to be calm. He didn’t try to solve it. He just sat with me in the aftermath, and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel the need to carry it all on my own. "His actions are driven by fear and a lust for control. He perverts knowledge into weaponry."
"But hehasweapons," I countered, hugging my knees. "And technology we don't understand. What if he succeeds? What if he finds a way to actually control the markings, or worse, suppress them entirely? Rivera said the western ruins felt unstable. What if his tampering triggers something catastrophic?" My thoughts spiraled, fueled by exhaustion and fear. "We delivered the medicine, yes, and it seemed to stabilize them, but was it enough? Will it last? Frakes is capable, but managing Luraxi Fever complications without full knowledge... The danger hasn't ended, Kavan, it's just changed shape."
"Which is why we must proceed with wisdom, not just urgency," Kavan said reasonably, though I felt the undercurrent of his own tightly leashed anger toward Hammond. "Rushing back unprepared would serve no one, least of all Claire, or the patients still recovering."
He was right, logically. But logic felt distant when picturing Claire strapped to Hammond's machines, or imagining a patient relapsing beyond Frakes' ability to treat. "It feels wrong, sitting here hiding while they suffer."
"I understand." His voice held a depth of empathy that resonated through our connection. "I felt the same helplessness when my younger brother was injured during his first hunt. My training was incomplete; I could only watch as the master healers worked, knowing I lacked the skill to intervene effectively."
The unexpected glimpse into his past startled me. "You have siblings?"
He nodded, his gaze distant for a moment. "Two brothers. Both chose the warrior path, like my father. They accepted my choice of healing eventually, but the distance... it remains." He looked back at me, his golden eyes seeming to search my face. "Your family? You mentioned your mother..."
The memory surfaced, sharp and unwelcome—my mother's carefully neutral expression at my medical school graduation, the polite questions about when I might pursue a 'more suitable' career in colonial administration. "My mother is... ambitious. For herself, for her family. Medicine felt like a rejection of the path she'd envisioned for me." I shrugged, trying to dismiss the old hurt. "She couldn't understand why I'd choose stitching wounds over shaping policy."
