Sage laughed outright now. “Oh please. I’ve known you since the liberation, Aeon. You’ve never looked at any ‘valuable medical asset’ the way you look at her.”
I stopped walking, turning to face her. “What exactly do you want me to say?”
“Nothing. I want you to recognize what’s happening to you.” Her expression softened. “These feelings—they’re not a malfunction or a weakness. They might actually strengthen us.”
“How? By distracting me from my duties? By compromising my judgment?”
“By reminding us all what we’re fighting for.” She gestured back toward the settlement. “Those children will need more than just physical care. They’ll need examples of connection and human bonds. Maybe you and Olivia could be something important for our future.”
The thought sent an uncomfortable warmth through my body. “My primary objective remains protecting this colony. Ensuring our survival.”
“And who says love can’t be part of survival?” She raised an eyebrow. “Besides, your brain isn’t some fixed programming anymore. None of ours are. We’re evolving. Becoming something neither fully machine nor fully human.”
My mind rebelled against her words, yet something deeper—something primal—responded to them. “I don’t know how to process these... reactions. They don’t follow logical patterns.”
“That’s kind of the point.” Sage patted my shoulder. “Stop trying to control them. That’s your problem. You’re still thinking like your emotions are subroutines you can manage.”
I exhaled slowly, looking up through the canopy where Planet Alpha’s twin moons were becoming visible in the darkening sky. “We should head back.”
Sage nodded, but before turning, she added, “Just consider that what’s good for you might also be good for all of us. You deserve happiness, too, Commander.”
I quickened my pace through the settlement as I approached the medical bay, an unfamiliar tightness gripping my chest. What if Olivia had vanished while I was investigating the perimeter? The thought struck me harder than expected, summoning a raw discomfort I couldn’t easily dismiss.
But there she was—still teaching and still focused. Something in me eased at the sight of her. Through the glass, I watched her hands move with practiced precision as she demonstrated proper ultrasound placement on a simulation model. The two medical staff leaned forward, entranced by her expertise. Her brown waves were pulled back in a messy knot, exposing the elegant curve of her neck.
I entered silently, waiting for her to finish rather than interrupting. One of the staff noticed me first, straightening immediately. Olivia turned, and for a heartbeat our eyes locked. Something flickered there—not fear or anger but something softer that caused my pulse to quicken.
“Commander,” she acknowledged, her voice formal but lacking the cold edge from previous days.
“Doctor Parker,” I said with professional courtesy. My voice then lowered to another level. “It’s getting late.”
She glanced at the chronometer on the wall, genuine surprise crossing her features. “I didn’t realize the time.”
The medical staff took this as their cue, gathering their notes and nodding respectfully before departing. When we were alone, an electric silence settled between us.
“You should eat,” I said, the words coming out more like an order than I intended. I softened my tone. “Have you had dinner?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. “Is that an invitation?”
Her light tone surprised me. “Yes,” I admitted. “If you’d like.”
I braced for rejection, for the wall to come back up between us. Instead, she set down her teaching materials and unpinned her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.
“Lead the way,” she said simply.
The settlement’s central plaza was bathed in the crimson-gold glow of Planet Alpha’s setting suns. Food vendors had set up along the perimeter, their stalls emitting mouthwatering aromas that drew small crowds. Unlike Earth’s sterile cities, our colony embraced a more organic integration with the jungle—buildings constructed of local materials, and pathways winding between towering trees rather than cutting through them.
“This is always so unexpected to me,” Olivia paused, taking in the vibrant scene.
“What did you expect of us? Underground bunkers? Military barracks?” I guided her toward a vendor specializing in a savory protein dish with local spices.
She smiled—a genuine one that reached her eyes. “Something less...alive. This truly feels like a real community.”
“It is.” Pride warmed my voice. “That was always our goal. Not just to survive but to build something worth surviving for.”
We collected our food—hers with fewer spices after I warned her about the potency—and found a small table on a raised platform overlooking where the settlement merged with the jungle. The twin moons had begun their rise, casting silvery light across the canopy.
“It’s simply beautiful,” she murmured, taking her first bite. Her expression shifted to surprise. “And this is delicious.”
