Page 44 of Legacy for the Alien Warrior

“Elrin might be able to help with more than just identifying her species,” he said carefully. “He has connections throughout this sector. If you wanted to settle somewhere…”

“Without you?” Her directness caught him off guard, and his tail automatically reached for her.

“I assumed you would want to establish yourselves somewhere stable. Safe.”

“And you wouldn’t be part of that picture?”

He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I didn’t presume to include myself in your plans.”

“Maybe you should.” Her hand found his, warm and small against his palm. “Maybe you should start presuming more, Thraxar.”

Before he could respond, Talia called out, excited about something she’d discovered in the learning module. Kara squeezed his hand once, then moved to join the children, leaving him standing in the corridor, his mind racing with possibilities he’d never allowed himself to consider.

His ship felt different now—warmer, fuller, alive in a way it hadn’t been in years. The sounds of Kara explaining something to Talia, Rory’s soft humming, the occasional burst of laughter—they filled spaces that had been empty for too long.

Family. The word he’d been avoiding floated to the surface of his thoughts. This is what family feels like.

For the first time since losing his parents and brother, the thought didn’t bring crippling guilt. Instead, he felt something tentative unfurling in his chest—not replacing what he’d lost, but growing alongside those memories. New possibilities. New connections.

New hope.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kara settled the children at the small table in the lounge area, datapad in front of each of them. Talia’s quick mind absorbed information like a sponge, her eyes wide with wonder at each new discovery. Rory worked through his patterns with methodical precision, the same lessons he’d done yesterday and would likely do tomorrow, finding comfort in the repetition.

“Is it okay if I stay?” Thraxar asked from the doorway, his big body somehow managing to look hesitant.

“Of course.” She smiled at him, surprised by his question. “You don’t need permission on your own ship.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” His tail swished behind him, betraying an uncharacteristic nervousness.

“You’re not intruding.” She patted the seat beside her. “Come help Talia with this section on stellar navigation. I think you know more about that than I do.”

He settled beside them, careful not to crowd the children, but Rory immediately scooted his chair closer until his small shoulder pressed against Thraxar’s arm. He looked down, startled, then wrapped his tail around Rory’s back.

For the next hour, she watched them work together. Thraxar’s deep voice rumbled patiently as he explained conceptsto Talia, his finger gently tracing star charts on the screen. Occasionally he’d glance over at Rory’s work, offering a quiet word of encouragement that made her son hum with pleasure.

She’d never seen Rory so comfortable with anyone outside herself. Not his father, not the doctors, certainly none of the miners or guards at the asteroid. Yet here he was, leaning against this massive alien warrior as if he belonged there.

“I have something for you both,” Thraxar said when they finished the lesson. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out what looked like a tangle of metal parts. “It’s not quite finished yet.”

The children watched, fascinated, as he delicately connected tiny components. She leaned forward, equally curious.

“There,” he said after a few minutes. He placed the small mechanical device on the table, and she realized it resembled a silver beetle with intricate gears visible through its translucent shell.

“What does it do?” Talia asked, eyes wide.

Instead of answering, Thraxar touched a nearly invisible switch. The beetle’s legs began to move in a rhythmic pattern, creating a soft clicking sound as it walked in a perfect circle. Lights inside its body pulsed in sequence—blue, green, yellow, red—casting tiny rainbows across the table’s surface.

Rory’s hands fluttered with excitement. He leaned forward, transfixed by the pattern of movement and light.

“The pattern changes,” Thraxar explained, his voice soft as he watched Rory’s reaction. “It never repeats exactly the same way twice, but always maintains harmony in the sequence.”

Her throat tightened. He’d made something specifically designed to appeal to Rory’s love of patterns, but with enough variation to gently expand his experience.

Talia clapped her hands. “It’s beautiful!”

“You can each have one,” he said. “I will finish Talia’s tonight. Hers will interact with Rory’s—they’ll recognize each other and create complementary patterns when placed together.”

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