Page 25 of Salvaged By the Alien Pirate

She nods, but hesitates at the door. “Whatever’s eating at you, Neon—we’ve got your back. All of us. That’s what crew means.”

The simple statement catches me off guard. Crew. When did I start thinking of myself as part of Cirdox’s crew rather than just a temporary passenger? When did these people become something more than just convenient allies?

“Thanks,” I manage, the word feeling strangely inadequate. “I’ll remember that.”

As she leaves, I gather my equipment, mind racing through possibilities. Kira knows where we are. She’s probably the one who sent those Eclipse cruisers. And if she’s as integrated with them as I fear, she’ll have access to their full tactical capabilities. We’re outgunned, outmanned, and running out of time.

But maybe—just maybe—I know something she doesn’t.

I set a course for the Void Reaver’s engineering section, a plan already forming. If Kira wants to play games with our lives, she’s about to learn I’m not the same scared hacker who ran three years ago.

This time, I’m staying to fight.

The Void Reaver thrums with frantic activity as the Zara prepares for emergency departure. The tension is palpable, a living thing that crawls along my skin and sets my implants on high alert.

I make my way to engineering, where damage from our previous encounter with the Eclipse is still visible in scorchedbulkheads and hastily repaired conduits. Grig, looks up from a diagnostic panel as I enter.

"Specialist Neon Valkyrie," he greets me, his amphibian throat-sac pulsing with each word. "Captain said you might need access to the core systems?"

"Direct access," I confirm, noting how even the reduced crew has adopted Cirdox's designation for me. Specialist sounds better than 'fugitive hacker,' I suppose. "I need to implement some defensive protocols before those Eclipse cruisers get here."

He nods, leading me to a secured terminal near the quantum drive housing. "All yours. Authorization Grig-Delta-Three-One."

The system recognizes his credentials, interfaces with my neural implants, and suddenly I'm swimming in the Void Reaver's digital architecture. My enhanced vision maps pathways, identifies vulnerabilities, catalogs defensive capabilities. The ship is impressive—Cirdox has clearly invested heavily in both offensive and defensive technology—but there are weaknesses. Places where a skilled hacker like Kira could slip through.

Places I need to fortify before she tries.

I dive deeper, fingers flying across the interface while my neural implants extend my consciousness into the ship's systems. I begin building defenses, layering encryption protocols and constructing honeypot traps that would catch most hackers.

But Kira isn't most hackers.

For her, I need something special. Something personal.

I pull fragments of code from my neural archive—pieces of old security systems we built together, snippets of programs we designed to be unbreakable. Then I twist them, corrupt them, transform them into something new. Something that will feel familiar enough to lure her in, but different enough to trap her when she takes the bait.

It's risky. If she recognizes what I'm doing, she could turn it against us. But it's the best chance we have of keeping the Void Reaver's systems secure during our escape.

"That's... impressive," Trill says, watching as complex patterns of code spread across the display. "I've never seen security protocols like these."

"Let's hope the Eclipse hasn't either," I mutter, adding the final layers to my digital fortress. "How long until the Captain wants to depart?"

"Thirty minutes. Most of the crew is back onboard, but we're still waiting on a few stragglers from the Haven." His wings shift nervously. "Those Eclipse cruisers are moving faster than we expected. They'll be in weapons range within an hour."

Not much time. "Tell Cirdox I need ten more minutes, then I'll meet him on the bridge."

As Grig leaves, I add one final component to my security system—a direct neural link that will alert me the moment anyone attempts to breach our defenses. It's dangerous, potentially exposing my own consciousness to attack, but necessary. I need to know immediately if Kira tries to hack us during our escape.

The connection forms, a ribbon of digital awareness that stretches from my implants to the ship's core systems. The sensation is familiar yet alien—like extending a limb I didn't know I had.

With the defenses in place, I make my way to the bridge. Each step feels heavier than the last as the implications of what's happening settle over me. Kira is alive. She's working with the Eclipse. And she's using everything she knows about me—about my patterns, my weaknesses, the people I care about—to hunt us down.

Because of what happened to Kai.

Because she blames me for his death.

And maybe she's right.

The thought catches me off guard, a sharp pain that has nothing to do with my implants and everything to do with the guilt I've carried for three years. What if she's right? What if I could have saved him? What if everything that's happened since—all the death, all the suffering—is because I hesitated when I should have acted?

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