Page 65 of Salvaged By the Alien Pirate

When they finally reach the cell, they simply release their grip, letting me crumple to the cold metal floor. The impact barely registers through the haze of pain. I curl into myself, trying to contain the tremors wracking my body, each breath a struggle against the darkness threatening to consume me.

The door seals with a final hiss, leaving me alone in the dimly lit cube. My neural implants continue to misfire, sending random bursts of data through my damaged systems. But beneath the pain, beneath the fear, a spark of defiance still burns. Because I know something Kira doesn’t—I know exactly what a Kyvernian warrior will do to protect his mate.

And when Cirdox comes, the Eclipse will learn just how badly they’ve miscalculated.

Through the haze of pain, I hear distant explosions rocking the ship, each vibration traveling through the cold metal walls of my cell. My neural implants flicker and spark, damaged from Kira’s “interrogation,” but I force myself to focus through the agony. The tactical chatter filtering through the ship’s compromised communications tells a story that makes my throat tight with emotion.

Through the haze of pain, I hear distant explosions rocking the ship, each vibration traveling through the cold metal walls of my cell. My neural implants flicker and spark, damaged from Kira’s “interrogation,” but I force myself to focus through the agony. The tactical chatter filtering through the ship’s compromised communications tells a story that makes my throat tight with emotion.

It’s not just Cirdox coming for me. The whole Brotherhood is mounting an assault. I hear Zara’s voice, sharp with barely controlled fury as she coordinates attack vectors. Sweet, methodical Grig, his usually calm tone carrying an edge of steel as he calculates targeting solutions. They’re risking everything—their ships, their lives—for me. The realization brings tears to my eyes.

When did they become so much more than just a crew? When did Zara’s protective scolding and Grig’s quiet support become as essential as breathing? I think of all the late-night strategy sessions, shared meals, small moments of laughter and trust built day by day. They’re my family. And I might never get to tell them how much they mean to me.

My head throbs as another wave of pain washes over me, the world going grey at the edges. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. The damage to my neural implants is severe—I can feel systems failing, connections fraying. But I have to stay conscious. Have to keep fighting. They deserve that much from me.

Through the static of failing comms, I catch fragments: multiple Brotherhood vessels engaging the Eclipse flagship, McCoy’s Planetary Police forces joining the attack, even Ta’vag’s diplomatic channels being used to prevent Eclipse reinforcements. They’ve united—pirates, law enforcement, diplomats—all to save one hacker who never thought she’d belong anywhere.

I press my hand against the cold wall, letting the ship’s vibrations ground me as darkness threatens to close in. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, though they can’t hear me. “I’m so sorry I might not make it home.” Home. When did the Void Reaver become that? When did these fierce, loyal, incredible people become the family I never thought I’d have?

The cell spins as I slump against the wall, my strength fading. But I smile through the pain, because even if this is the end, I know now what it means to be truly loved.

Chapter 23

Cirdox

Thesilenceinmymind where Neon’s presence should be burns like acid through my veins. Our bond, usually a warm current of shared strength and fierce devotion, has become a hollow void punctuated by sharp spikes of her fear and pain. Each flash of her agony tears at my soul, made worse by my inability to reach her, to protect her.

“Three more Brotherhood vessels lost in the outer sector,” Zara reports, her voice tight with grief. “The Star’s Promise, the Crimson Vale... good crews, Captain. Families.”

The names slam into me like physical blows, each one carrying faces I know—crews I’ve shared meals with, captains whose children I’ve watched grow up in our hidden ports. The weight of their loss threatens to crush me, but it’s nothing compared to the icy terror gripping my heart. Because somewhere out there, my fierce, brilliant mate is in the hands of those same monsters. And the fragments of fear bleedingthrough our stretched bond tell me she’s fighting a battle I can’t reach.

I check my weapons one final time as I prepare to board the Eclipse vessel. Kira’s earlier transmission replays in my mind, her synthetic voice twisting what was once human into something grotesque—the same voice that haunts Neon’s nightmares.

“Cirdox Thar’Kal.” The artificial warmth had set my teeth on edge, her once-musical lilt corrupted into something that barely passed for human. “I have a message for you. From your... mate.”

The way she’d said that last word—like our sacred bond was some primitive curiosity to be studied—makes my tribal markings flare anew with primal rage. But beneath that fury runs a deeper, colder fear. Because I’ve seen the Eclipse’s handiwork scattered across the galaxy in shattered minds and broken bodies. And now they have my heart, my soul, my very reason for breathing in their grasp.

Neon’s voice had cut through the static—strained but carrying that core of steel that made me fall in love with her. Even that brief contact was enough to feel the pain she was fighting through, the desperate strength she was clinging to. My claws dig into my palms now as I fight to control the primal need to tear the galaxy apart to reach her.

“The boarding craft is ready, Captain,” Zara says softly, her concern evident in her tone. She knows what this means—leaving the Void Reaver when she needs me most. But she also understands that nothing will keep me from Neon now.

My wings flare wide, tribal markings pulsing with a fury that makes the bridge crew step back. They think they can use Neon against me? They think they can bargain with a Kyvernian’s bond-mate? They’re about to learn exactly how fatal that mistake will be.

“Zara,” I command, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl that carries centuries of predatory promise, “target their communications array. Grig, prepare for a direct assault on their flagship. We’re going through, not around.”

“But their defenses—” Zara begins, her voice laced with concern that would touch me if I could feel anything beyond the burning need to reach my mate.

“Won’t matter,” I interrupt, my voice raw with barely contained fury as I slam my fist against the console, leaving deep gouges in the reinforced metal. The tactical display flickers erratically, fragments of data streams bleeding red across the screen like open wounds. Warning indicators pulse with increasing urgency, each flash a reminder of how many systems we’ve lost to K’vex’s betrayal.

I can’t feel Neon through our bond—that damnable interference cutting me off from her presence like a wound that won’t stop bleeding. The silence where her fierce spirit should be burns through me, bringing whispers of that terrible emptiness I thought I’d left behind. Bond-sickness scratches at the edges of my consciousness, a creeping darkness I refuse to acknowledge the meaning of. I can’t show weakness. Not now. Not when she needs me most.

The not knowing is worse than any physical pain. Is she conscious? Afraid? Fighting back with that fierce defiance that captured my heart? Or have they already broken through her defenses, torn apart the brilliant mind that matches my tactical experience blow for blow? The possibilities torment me, feeding the primal rage that threatens to shatter my careful control.

I grip the command console harder, leaving deep grooves in the metal as another wave of emptiness washes through me. I won’t let them see how the bond-sickness claws at my soul, how each moment without her threatens to unravel everything I am. My crew needs their captain, not a mate drowning indesperation. But gods, the darkness is so much colder without her light to guide me home.

“They want a fight?” My wings snap wide, casting crimson shadows as my tribal markings pulse with battle-rage bright enough to illuminate the smoke-filled bridge. “Let’s give them one they’ll never forget.”

McCoy’s hologram materializes beside me as I check my weapons with methodical intensity, each movement a promise of violence to come. Her features are drawn tight with concern, the usual stern confidence replaced by grim understanding of what we face. “They’re jamming all frequencies, Captain. Our reinforcements are fighting through heavy resistance in the outer sectors, but they won’t reach us in time.”

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