Page 45 of Alien's Love Child

I capture her lips, drinking in her taste. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I support her weight easily. Our clothes are soaked through, clinging to skin, but we don't care. Nothing exists except this moment, this woman, this burning need.

The dream shifts, fragments. Flashes of pale skin decorated with freckles. The sound of my name breathed like a prayer. The feeling of coming home.

I jolt awake, covered in sweat. The headache has dulled to a manageable ache, but my heart pounds against my ribs. The viewport shows we're still in hyperspace, stars streaking past in endless lines.

"Just a dream," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. Must be the isolation getting to me. Can't remember the last time I was with a woman.

But something about it felt so real. The way she said my name...

But that wasn't my name. What was it? The memory is fading, fast.

Probably for the best.

My PerComm flickers to life, casting a blue glow across my face in the dim cabin. Jesse's file expands into a network of connections, faces floating like ghostly markers in the holographic display.

A furry face catches my attention - Paraxan, an Odex. Something about those whiskers... A flash of memory: the smell of spiced meat, fur floating in soup. My stomach growls in response.

"Display crew manifest," I command, and more faces materialize.

Rena, the pilot. Blonde hair pulled back tight, expression no-nonsense even in her ID photo. The way she holds herself screams military training. A tickle of recognition makes my head throb. Had she been at the controls that day?

Taluk's photo shows a young Vakutan trying too hard to look tough. His red scales gleam under artificial light, but there's something off about his pose. Like he's playing a part.

"Cross-reference: explosion on Glimner, three years ago."

My PerComm chirps, pulling up news articles. Most mention Xander's death, but what caused it... no word. Investigation closed. No bodies found. They must have slipped away with the data while I lay burning in the wreckage.

The Boss was right. They're the key to everything. My fingers trace the scar on my chest as determination solidifies in my gut. Whatever games Jesse's playing, whatever tricks she has planned - I'll find those files.

The headache spikes again, but I ignore it. The mission is all that matters now.

I trackJesse from the shadows of the station's maintenance corridors. Her work clothes are stained with grease, red hair tied back in a messy knot. She moves with purpose through the cramped streets, dodging vendors and avoiding eye contact.

My head pounds watching her. Something about the way she walks, the swing of her hips...

"Fresh bread!" A vendor's cry breaks my concentration. "Still warm!"

Jesse pauses at her apartment complex, an aging structure that's seen better days. The security panel beeps as she enters her code. I memorize the pattern of her fingers.

After she disappears inside, I find a shadowed alcove across the street. The wait stretches on, my muscles cramping from staying still. Just as I consider moving in, the door slides open.

Jesse emerges with a small boy clutching her hand. My breath catches. His skin is pale blue like mine, silver hair falling into eyes that match his mother's. He can't be more than three.

They turn down an alley - a shortcut to the transport hub. I circle around, cutting through a maintenance shaft to get ahead of them. The familiar weight of my stunner presses against my hip.

The alley opens into a small courtyard. Perfect. I step out of the shadows just as they round the corner.

Jesse freezes. The boy peers around her legs, curious. Her face drains of color as she takes me in, those green eyes widening with recognition and fear.

The boy, all innocence and unable to comprehend his situation, greets me with a cheerful smile. Jesse's eyes go wide in both recognition and fear.

Just as I thought. She must have assumed she'd left me for dead.

Jesse snatches up the boy and bolts down a side passage. My training kicks in as I pursue, tracking their footsteps echoing off metal walls. The station's maintenance corridors twist like a maze, but I know these routes better than she does.

A flash of red hair whips around a corner. The boy's crying now, his sobs bouncing off the walls. My chest tightens at the sound.

I cut through a service tunnel, emerging ahead of them. Jesse skids to a stop, clutching the boy to her chest. Her eyes dart around, seeking escape.

---