Page 78 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Jex began selecting components from a nearby workbench. "Neural interfaces are relatively simple technology. The Latharians have been using them for centuries." His fingers worked with surprising dexterity for their size, connecting microcircuits and sensor nodes to a flexible band.
"Wait, you want me to try it now?" She watched the device take shape with growing apprehension.
"A basic test would be prudent," Jex replied, finishing the makeshift headband. "Given his unique neural development, even this rudimentary interface should establish a connection."
She hesitated, then took the band. "What do I do?"
"Simply place it against your temples. Focus on forming a basic command." He gestured toward Spot, who was watching with vibrating anticipation. "Nothing complex for the first attempt."
The metal felt cool against her skin as she positioned the band. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then a sudden jolt of awareness crashed through her mind, a second perspective overlapping her own. She gasped, gripping the edge of the workbench as dizziness swept over her.
"Spot?" she thought, directing the word toward the strange new presence.
The drakeen core chirped excitedly and began to move, then spun in a rapid circle before careening into a crate. He recovered, legs skittering wildly across the floor as he responded to her thoughts with enthusiastic overreaction.
"Easy," she murmured, trying to narrow her focus. "Just walk normally."
Spot staggered like he was drunk, one leg moving smoothly while the others jerked in different directions. She couldn't help laughing at his comical movements.
Then suddenly, without warning, images flashed through her mind, foreign and disorienting. A battlefield viewed through multiple optical sensors, plasma fire streaking overhead. The sensation of being connected to a massive weapons system, power thrumming through circuitry that extended far beyond Spot's current form. Then a final, fractured impression, terror and pain flooding through the neural link as a pilot's consciousness flickered and faded. She yanked the band off, gasping.
"What happened?" Jex moved closer, a hand out in case she fell.
"I saw..." She looked at Spot, who had gone still, sensors dimmed. "I felt her dying. Spot's pilot."
Jex nodded slowly. "Memory fragments. His neural net must have preserved them."
Mira knelt beside Spot, gently touching his casing. The connection, brief as it was, had fundamentally changed how she saw him. Not just a machine with quirks, but a being with history, with trauma.
"We'll practice more later," she said softly. "And I'll be more careful."
Spot's sensors brightened as he gently bumped against her hand.
"Thank you," she told Jex, rising to her feet. "This will help."
Spot danced in tight circles around her, front legs waving in the air as a series of happy chirps filled the bay.
"Yeah, yeah." A grin spread across her face. "You convinced me. Just don't make me regret it."
As Jex moved back to his workbench, Mira watched Spot's celebration. A smile tugged at her lips despite everything. Whatever happened, at least she wasn't the only one refusing to stay discarded.
* * *
Davis trudgedup theLady's Dream'sramp, every muscle complaining after hours of fruitless questioning at K’ell's lab. Fucking scientists and their cryptic bullshit. The guy had answers about Davis's changing DNA locked in his oversized brain, but getting straight information from him was like trying to nail water to a wall.
The ship's recycled air hit him as he stepped into the corridor, carrying that familiar metallic tang that meant home and something else. He tilted his head, drawing a breath over his tongue.
Mira was close. He could smell that distinctive mix of ship soap and something uniquely hers.
He rounded the corner to the cargo bay, and there she was, datapad in hand, checking inventory. His pulse kicked up instantly. She'd avoided him since the other night, when she hadn't returned from getting snacks. And now she ignored him as though he didn't exist.
"Hey," he said, aiming for casual and missing by several light years.
She glanced up, and her expression shuttered. "You're back."
Not a question. A flat statement that hung between them like a dead thing. None of the warmth he'd gotten used to, none of that light in her eyes when she spotted him across a room.
"Just got in." He shifted his weight. "Heading out for supplies?"
