Page 69 of Alien Healer's Touch
"We need more information before mounting any rescue," Elder Shyla finally concluded. "Rivera will scout, but not alone. Two warriors will accompany her to the perimeter's edge."
Rivera nodded, satisfaction evident in her expression.
"Once we know more about Hammond's operation," Lazrin continued, "we can formulate a plan for Claire's extraction."
"And determine what technology he's found," Kavan added. "If it connects to the markings so profoundly, we must understand it before Hammond does."
The council began discussing logistics—approach routes, equipment, communication methods. Through it all, my markings continued to ache dully, straining toward something distant.
Kavan's hand found mine beneath the table, his touch cooling the burn where our patterns met. Through our connection, I sensed his unspoken question:Are you alright?
I squeezed his hand in response.I will be.
Whatever Hammond had discovered in those ruins, whatever he planned for Claire, we would stop him. The knowledge gained through our integration, the combined strength of Nyxari tradition and human innovation—these were powerful tools. And more than that, we had something Hammond would never understand: a connection based not on control, but on mutual respect and... something deeper I wasn't ready to name.
As the council mapped out the reconnaissance mission, Kavan and I exchanged glances. Through our bond flowed a silent promise—to use our connection not just for healing, but for protection. To ensure Hammond couldn't twist the ancient technology to his destructive purposes.
The markings that connected us might be mysterious, powerful, and occasionally painful—but they were ours to define, not his to corrupt.
EPILOGUE: HAMMOND
"0800 hours: Primary system activation successful. Subject showing increased marking luminosity. Containment measures holding."
I logged the entry on my salvaged datapad and surveyed the command center with satisfaction. The ancient ruins pulsed with blue-white light, responding to our activation sequence as predicted. Martinez efficiently directed security teams at checkpoints along the perimeter while technicians monitored our interface with the alien systems.
The ground trembled—the third such tremor in the last hour—but minor disruptions were expected. Breaking alien influence would naturally cause resistance. "Status report on Subject C," I called, crossing to the monitoring station.
Dr. Frakes looked up, concern evident. "Commander, her vitals are approaching dangerous levels. Pulse erratic, blood pressure unstable. I strongly recommend we pause the procedure."
Claire lay secured to the reinforced platform, her skin covered in pulsing silver patterns that mirrored the light sequences running through the ruins. Her markings had expanded into geometric patterns I hadn't observed before—further evidence of the alien contamination's progression.
"Is she still alive?" I asked.
"Yes, but at significant physiological cost. If we continue?—"
"Then keep going," I ordered. "Her discomfort is regrettable but necessary." The mission came first—always had since the dayTheSeraphynecrashed. My responsibility hadn't ended with the crash; it had only begun.
I'd seen it myself during the raid on the Nyxari settlement—how the artifacts we recovered had reacted to Duvane's silver patterns, how her markings had flared in response. Claire's patterns might be less extensive, but that made her easier to control, a perfect initial conduit while we deciphered the system's more complex functions.
Martinez approached from his patrol. "Sir, perimeter teams report unusual wildlife activity. Local creatures are evacuating the canyon."
"The systems are working," I nodded. "The native fauna recognize what's happening." I walked to the main display where multicolored patterns pulsed across the screens, spreading outward from our position. The marked women failed to understand that these silver patterns weren't gifts but control mechanisms, turning humans into unwitting puppets.
A stronger tremor shook the chamber, sending dust raining from the ceiling. One of the technicians called out, "Commander, seismic activity increasing significantly. Readings suggest structural instability."
"Expected resistance," I replied. "The system is purging alien influence." I didn't need their scientific doubts. Results spoke for themselves. The ruins had accepted Claire's markings as an access key, just as I'd theorized. The spreading energy fields confirmed the defensive network was now under our control.
A sharp cry from Claire drew my attention. Her body tensed against the restraints, markings flaring brightly as monitoring equipment sparked.
"Commander, she's approaching critical condition," Frakes insisted. "We need to stabilize her or we'll lose everything we've gained."
I calculated quickly. Claire's value as a test subject remained high. Losing her would mean finding another marked subject with similar sensitivity. Inefficient.
"Reduce power to subsystem three," I ordered. "Maintain minimum activation threshold only."
Frakes moved immediately, adjusting controls. Claire's convulsions gradually subsided, though her markings continued to pulse in rhythm with the ruins. Unconscious but alive—still useful.
The floor lurched violently. A support column cracked at the far end of the chamber. "Maintain positions," I ordered. "This is just resistance from the alien system."
