Page 3 of Alien's Love Child

He nods, but there's something in his eyes I can't quite read. "Thanks for the insight, Captain."

I watch Taluk methodically counting crates, his movements careful despite his size. My words from earlier still hang heavy in the recycled air. The cargo hold feels too quiet, save for the soft beeping of his inventory scanner.

"Hey." I lean against a stack of containers. "You know, you're doing good work here. Better than I did when I first started."

His scanning falters for a moment. The red scales along his neck ripple – a Vakutan tell for surprise.

"When I was your age, I dropped an entire shipment of Nexian crystals. Right through the cargo bay doors." I tap the floor with my boot. "Made this exact dent, actually. Cost us a fortune."

Taluk's shoulders relax slightly. "That does make me feel better about the time I mixed up the medical supplies with those boxes of contraband fruit."

"Exactly. And look how far you've come since then." I gesture at his organized stacks of inventory. "Most Vakutans I've met wouldn't have the patience for this kind of detail work. You've got good instincts – just need to point them in the right direction."

His dark eyes meet mine briefly before returning to the scanner. "Thanks, Captain," he mutters, but I catch the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Give it time. A few more years and you'll be twice my size. Imagine the doors that'll open when you can actually intimidate people instead of just dropping things on their feet."

That gets a quiet chuckle out of him. The tension from our earlier conversation dissipates like vented atmosphere.

"Just focus on learning the business first," I say, pushing off from the containers. "The rest will come."

"Thanks," he says again, softer this time, his scales shifting to a warmer shade of red.

I make my way through the narrow corridors of my ship, running my fingers along the worn metal walls. The familiar hum of the engines vibrates through my boots with each step. Through the bridge doorway, Rena hunches over the nav console, muttering calculations under her breath.

"Carry the four, adjust for stellar drift..."

"Still working those numbers?”

"Someone has to make sure we don't end up in an asteroid field." She doesn't look up, but I catch her smile. "Your father taught me that trick with the gravitational vectors, you know. Saved our asses more than once."

A cleaning bot whirs past my feet, spinning in circles as it chases what might be a small rodent that snuck on board at port. The little machine bumps into the wall repeatedly, its sensors clearly malfunctioning.

"Hey, at least it's persistent," I say, stepping over it.

The smell of something burning draws me to the galley. Smoke curls from a pot while one of my newer crew members frantically fans it with a towel.

"Everything under control in here?"

"Absolutely, Captain!" He coughs, waving away smoke. "Just... adding some character to dinner."

Dad would've loved this – the organized chaos, the makeshift family we've built. Mom too, though she'd probably suggest better security protocols. I touch the pendant hanging at my neck, the one she gave me before my first solo run.

"Keep your cargo close and your crew closer," she'd said. "But most importantly, keep them loyal."

The burning smell intensifies. "Maybe I should order takeout when we dock," I mutter, but I'm smiling. This rickety ship, this misfit crew – it's everything they taught me to build. A proper smuggling operation, running smooth as silk on this side of the galaxy. Well, mostly smooth.

The cleaning bot zooms past again, still chasing shadows. Some things you just can't plan for.

CHAPTER 2

DAVIN

The stale air of the bar mingles with the sharp bite of cheap alcohol. I nurse my drink, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass. The bounty board on my PerComm shows nothing but pocket change - thieves who stole bread or jumped their bail on minor infractions.

Not even enough to cover the fuel it'll take to find them.

"Another?" The bartender hovers nearby, cloth wiping endless circles on the counter.

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