Page 50 of Fated to the Dragon Alien

“Enough. All forty-nine miners will fit.”

“And the guards?”

“I’ll reassign their system rotation for our departure cycle,” he said. “I’ve been pulling them back, anyway, using my override credentials to block queries and using the tunnel collapse as emergency justification.”

She swallowed. Her mouth was dry. “When…? How long until we leave?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Four cycles.”

“Stars.” The air in her lungs turned sharp. “That soon?”

“We don’t have longer. Central’s likely preclearing a review patrol as we speak. That’s two warships with a combined eighty Axis agents. If they arrive before we leave, we’re done.”

She nodded slowly and tried to tamp down the panic that was pushing to be noticed. “Where will we go?”

His gaze dropped to the table. “I chose a destination at the fringe of the system. Deep space. Barely tagged in Axis maps. First, we find somewhere safe for the miners—an outpost or neutral territory. Aside from your friend Jorr, none of them are violent, and Jorr poisoned that Axis agent because he slaughtered Jorr’s family. The miners can choose their own paths. From there…” His gaze met hers. “…we start looking for them.”

Cerani’s brows drew together. “For who?”

“The others,” he said. “The ones like us. The rebels. Zaruxians who’ve broken away. Terians who didn’t vanish—your friends, possibly. You said you wanted to find them. And I want to meet these Zaruxians who have caused so much upheaval to the Axis.”

Hope stirred in her chest and made her heart ache in a way she wasn’t prepared for. Finding her scattered friends was a dream she’d locked away for the sake of her sanity. A ship out of here. A route to her people. A hunt for the truth. All of it. “You think we can find them?”

“If anyone can, it’s us.” Stavian tapped the screen and brought up a new display—navigation now, not schematics. “When we’re off the Axis network, I can track the incident logs of the other events—settlement liberation, ship raid, arena collapse, the brothel incident. We follow those paths. Chart the quiet. Listen differently. It might take us many cycles,” he said. “We’ll have to move like ghosts and break all the rules I was taught to enforce. But…” He turned the display toward her and the rotating star field painted his face in pale silver. “…we don’t stop until we find them. I want to join their rebellion. Do you?”

Cerani leaned in. The screen’s glow lit Stavian’s chiseled cheek, pale blue threaded with the edges of a star cluster. Imagesof the settlement flashed through her. Cold soil. Hard ground. Kneeling with bare fingers to work a field that didn’t belong to them. Riests walking between rows, chanting praises to the Axis while inking designations into the skin of newborns. She closed her eyes, wishing that could block out the memories.

“I’ve been thinking about my life at the settlements,” she said, her voice low. “I can’t know how we didn’t know we were prisoners. It was so obvious.” She paused and let that truth settle for both of them. “But I’m done with that life. I’m ready to be a part of something more. Yes, I want to join their rebellion.”

He didn’t speak, but his expression shifted. Like a lock turned and something opened. It had been there since the beginning, the way she watched him move, the first time she saw him standing in the mine shaft like the air didn’t touch him. She’d seen the fracture lines in him even back then—how he wanted out, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Now he did.

All of it poured from his eyes. A molten mix of rage and resolve, tethered to her, because she hadn’t stopped at challenging the system. She’d challenged him.

This wasn’t just about DeLink 22K. It was about everything—control, oppression, memory, choice. They weren’t just running to stay alive. They were going to war.

Her fingers moved across the solid expanse of his chest. Small movements. She liked the way his muscles twitched under her touch and the uptick in his pulse as she let her hand drift lower. “This won’t be a clean escape, will it?”

His breathing had turned uneven, but he answered steadily. “It will if they don’t try to follow us.” He placed a hand over hers, holding it still on his abdomen. “But they will.”

Cerani nodded, slow. Her throat felt tight again, but not from fear. From readiness. “What are our chances?”

He shook his head. “Better than if we stay here. The miners will die and I can’t keep cycling in new people to watch them meet the same fate in that mine. And you can’t live the rest of your life in this room.”

She gazed up at him, then leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. Just one press. Solid. Certain. Not soft.

“I’m with you,” she said against his skin. “What will you need from me?”

He smiled, but his gaze was hard. “I’ll need you to lead your people.”

FIFTEEN

Cerani

Cerani paced the length of Stavian’s room—their room. Her boots thudded softly across the polished floor. The insulation in the soles muffled each step, but these were not the soft slippers she’d been wearing for nearly four cycles. These were miner’s boots. She tapped her fingers against her thigh, then crossed her arms. Then, she stopped pacing and stood under the wide glass ceiling, staring up at the red haze of FK-22R’s atmosphere.

Nothing out there had changed. The twin moons still cast their faint glow. The sky still looked like it was bleeding. The surface winds would still tear the skin off anyone caught outside without an EP suit.

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