Page 72 of Technically Abducted
Not after loving someone who lives among the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tev'ra
The emergency summons arrives while I'm watching the twin suns set over Sil'than's crystal waters, painting the sky in shades that remind me painfully of the Chicago starlight Finn preferred over my own homeworld's constellations.
At first, I consider ignoring it entirely. What could the Council possibly need that justifies interrupting my pathetic attempt at recuperation? I have submitted my assessment report, completed the required documentation, and followed all protocols precisely. My next assignment doesn't begin for another cycle, leaving me free to continue wallowing in my beautiful, useless solitude.
But the message header stops me cold:URGENT: Council Directive RE: Empathic Bond Disclosure - Assessment Subject Finn Sullivan - Immediate Response Required
My bioluminescence flares so bright it could probably be seen from orbit. Empathic bond disclosure. They know. Somehow, impossibly, the Council has discovered what I've been omitting.
Panic floods my system as I activate the communication link, expecting to face formal charges for protocol violations, for allowing personal attachment to compromise professional objectivity, for the dozens of ways I've failed to maintain appropriate boundaries during the assessment period.
"Council session initiated," Elder Va'ril's voice is stern, carrying none of the warmth I remember from previous interactions. "Researcher Tev'ra, you are required to appear before the full Council immediately for questioning regarding security breaches and undisclosed empathic bonding protocols."
Security breaches. My panic intensifies. "Elder Va'ril, I can explain—"
"Explanation will be provided during formal session. Transport authorization has been granted. You have thirty minutes to reach the Council chambers."
The connection terminates, leaving me staring at the empty communication display while my mind races through worst-case scenarios. How did they discover the bond? Have they somehow contacted Finn? Is he in danger because of my failure to report our connection?
I pack with mechanical efficiency, my bioluminescence dim with dread. Whatever consequences await me, at least Finn is safely on Earth, protected by distance from whatever fallout my concealment has created.
The transport to the Council chambers passes in a blur of anxiety and self-recrimination. I should have reported the bond immediately upon recognition. I should have prioritized Council protocols over personal attachment.
But as I approach the Council chambers, I'm struck by an unexpected observation: there are more life signs present than a standard session would require. The biosignatures register multiple species—not just Nereidan Council members, but others.
Which makes no sense for a disciplinary hearing.
The chamber doors open to reveal the seven Council members seated in their traditional configuration, but what stops me mid-step are the three humans standing beside their Nereidan partners in the observation area.
Humans. Three of them. Here, in the Council chambers, looking comfortable and unrestrained and completely at ease in a way that defies every assumption I've made about human-Nereidan interactions.
"Researcher Tev'ra," Elder Va'ril's voice cuts through my shock. "Please approach the center platform."
I move forward mechanically, unable to process what I'm seeing. One of the humans—dark-haired, average height, wearing what appears to be standard Nereidan civilian clothing—is standing beside Zeph'hai with an easy familiarity that suggests long association. Another, taller and more muscular, stands near Kav'eth with similar comfort. The third, sharp-featured with an intense expression, is positioned beside Ry'eth. I've known the brothers for decades, though we were never close.
"Council members," I manage, forcing myself to focus on the official proceedings rather than the impossible presence of humans in the chamber. "I understand there are questions regarding my recent assessment activities."
"Indeed," Elder Va'ril says, their tone unreadable. "We have received concerning communications from your assessment subject, Finn Sullivan, along with disturbing allegations about unauthorized contact protocols."
My bioluminescence flickers with confusion. "Communications from Finn? I don't understand. Assessment subjects are returned to their point of origin. They have no means of contacting Council operations."
"Under normal circumstances, that would be correct," Councilor Myr'esh interjects. "However, your assessment subject has proven... resourceful. Along with another human who claims to have been abducted without authorization ten years ago."
Another human. Ten years ago. My mind races through possibilities while my gaze keeps drifting to the three humans observing the proceedings with obvious investment in the outcome.
"I'm afraid I don't understand the relevance of these other incidents," I say carefully. "My assessment of Finn Sullivan followed all established protocols. He was returned toEarth with standard compensation after the seventy-two hour evaluation period."
"Yes," Elder Va'ril says slowly. "That is precisely the issue we need to address."
One of the humans—the one standing beside Zeph'hai—steps forward. "Sorry, but can I say something here? Because I think there's been a massive misunderstanding."
The casual way he addresses the Council, the comfortable informality of his posture, the fact that no one seems surprised by his interruption—it's all completely contrary to everything I understand about human-Nereidan interactions.
"Jake Morrison," Elder Va'ril says with what sounds almost like fondness. "Please, share your perspective."
