Page 12 of Alien Engineer's Mate

"Excellent." Taylor led the way, her subordinates falling into step behind her. At the threshold, she glanced back at Maax. "Do remember that the inquiry begins next month. Emily's testimony won't be required, but yours might be."

He nodded. If they needed him, he would be there.

After they left, Tisshel organized her documents with meticulous movements. He studied her. Her transformation during the proceedings had been remarkable… from gentle academic to razor-sharp advocate and back again.

His wrist bracer chimed softly. It was just a routine update from the nursery. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Emily was fine. She’d eaten all her lunch and was now enjoying her afternoon activities.

"The documentation you presented," he said, breaking the silence. "About the Centauri-Four Accords and the Proximax Convention. I wasn't aware they applied to human children."

Tisshel glanced up, her dark eyes unreadable. "Most aren't. The legal framework for human integration into galactic society is... evolving. Rapidly." She paused. "Which makes cases like this particularly complex."

"And yet you seemed prepared for their arguments."

Her pointed teeth showed briefly. “While I might not be that familiar with human law, I have studied humanity. They have a phrase: ‘know your enemy.’ And they presented exactly what I expected." The words carried a bitter edge. "They focus so much on procedure that they forget their primary duty… the welfare of the child."

His hands tightened into fists at his sides. The memory of finding Emily burned fresh. "They would have sent her back."

"They would have tried." Her voice hardened, and she pulled out a datapad, scanning it. "Healer Kellat's reports are thorough. His documentation of Emily's initial condition and improvement will be valuable."

Maax straightened. "You spoke with Kellat yourself?”

"Of course.” She nodded. “His observations and standing as Lead Healer carry significant weight. He was quite forthcoming about Emily's progress and improvement under your care."

She continued gathering her documents into the cases she carried.

"The next phase will take time," she said. "The humans will no doubt appeal. They'll try to challenge my legal standing, the jurisdiction, the applicability of interspecies legislation to human matters." Her tone suggested she found their tactics tedious. "But for now, your custody arrangement is secure."

He straightened. "And after the appeals?"

She met his gaze. "One battle at a time, Warrior. For now, focus on Emily. Document everything: her care, her progress, her needs, and how you meet them. Have Kellat continue his assessments. The rest..." She made a dismissive gesture. "The rest is my concern."

She gathered her cases, her height allowing easy movement of the larger ones. At the door, she paused.

"Kellat's reports show remarkable improvement in Emily's physical and emotional state. Her healing is well-documented." Now she turned, her expression serious. "Remember that when the humans try to claim otherwise. You need to tell them what the healer observed when you first brought her to him, and what he's recording now."

She left the room in a swish of her robes, hooves clicking softly against the deck. Maax stayed where he was, letting the day's events settle. So much remained uncertain. But Emily was safe. For now, that had to be enough.

His bracer chimed again. Another nursery update. Emily had drawn a picture she wanted to show him. Despite everything, he smiled as he headed for the door. Legal battles could wait. His daughter needed him.

Eira's handstrembled as she folded the last of Grace's threadbare shirts and tucked it into the trunk. It was a colony-issued storage container, meant for a single person's yearly supplies, but it now had to hold everything four people needed for their new lives. Her heart clenched as she leaned against the edge of the trunk for a moment. How could she decide what to leave behind? All the memories…

"We shouldn't be doing this," Leo growled. At seventeen, he towered over her now, his jaw set in a hard line as he shoved his datapad into his backpack.

"We'll talk about it on the shuttle, sweetheart." She kept her voice steady somehow. She'd explained it three times already, but Leo needed time to process. But it was time they didn't have. The transport shuttle was arriving this morning, and they needed to be on it. The next wouldn’t come around for another month, and she didn’t have enough medication for Kyle to last that long.

Her youngest son sat on his bed, clutching his stuffed rabbit…the last gift from his father. Unlike his older brother's obvious rebellion, Kyle's silence spoke volumes. Grace, thank God, was too young at four to fully understand what was happening. She sat on the floor, happily sorting her few toys into piles of "coming" and "staying."

“But Dad's here," Leo glared at her. "Everything we have left of him is here."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She abandoned the packing and crossed to the small window. If she stood in just the right place, she could see the edge of the settlement’s memorial gardens. There was a marker there bearing James's name among the dozens of others lost in the accident. The guilt that had become her constant companion since accepting the mate program's offer rose up to choke her.

I'm so sorry,she thought, pressing her hand against the cool glass as if her late husband could hear her.But I have to keep them safe.

A chime sounded through the pod. Shit, that was the fifteen-minute warning of the shuttle’s arrival, and they still needed to get to the landing pads.

Her jaw clenched. She could do this. They could do this. They had to. "Okay, everyone. Respirators on. We need to move. Now.”

She helped Grace put her mask on first, checking the seal twice before making sure Kyle's was properly fitted. The familiar hiss of filtered air filled her ears as she did a final sweep of the pod. Eight years of life reduced to two trunks and three backpacks. Her wedding ring caught the light as she reached for the first trunk, and she swallowed hard. She didn’t know why she still wore it. Habit, she guessed. She would have to put it away for when Leo or one of the others decided to get married.

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