Page 54 of Alien Attachment
We set course for Obsidian Haven, taking a circuitous route through rarely traveled corridors of space to avoid detection. The journey gives us time to refine our plan and prepare our equipment, but more importantly, it gives us time together. These long stretches between stars have become some of myfavorite moments—just us, the vast emptiness of space, and the comfortable intimacy that’s grown between us.
I modify a portable data extractor to quickly interface with Lila’s systems, while Jhorn adapts his appearance to be less conspicuous—retracting his more obvious tendrils and adjusting his skin tone to a deeper shade that will blend better with the shadows. The transformation is subtle but effective, and I find myself missing the absent tendrils more than I expected.
“They’ll be back once we’re clear,” he assures me, clearly sensing my reaction through our bond.
“I know,” I reply, then add with a grin, “but I’ve gotten used to them being available for... various purposes.”
His bioluminescence flares involuntarily, and I feel his immediate spike of arousal through our connection. “Kaylee,” he warns, his voice dropping to that rougher register that makes my knees weak.
“Focus, tentacles,” I tease, echoing his words from weeks ago. “We have a heist to plan.”
The night before we reach Obsidian Haven, I find myself unable to sleep, anxiety and anticipation keeping my mind racing. Jhorn senses my restlessness through our bond and joins me in the cockpit, where I sit watching the stars streak past in the endless dance of hyperspace.
“Second thoughts?” he asks quietly, settling into the co-pilot’s seat beside me. Even sitting, he radiates that controlled power that first drew me to him, though now I know the gentleness that lies beneath.
“No,” I say firmly, then immediately contradict myself. “Maybe. I don’t know. Just... planning contingencies, I guess.”
His tendril brushes against my hand, the symbiotic ring on my finger pulsing in response to his touch. The ring has grown more sophisticated over the months, its living light shifting to matchboth our emotional states. Right now, it pulses with warm amber—contentment mixed with nervous energy.
“We have seventeen contingency plans already, my light,” he observes with gentle amusement.
“Eighteen is my lucky number,” I quip, but the humor falls flat even to my own ears.
Jhorn is silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the stars beyond the viewport. “You are afraid,” he observes—not a question but a statement of fact gleaned through our connection.
I consider denying it, but what’s the point? He feels everything I feel, sometimes before I’m even aware of it myself. “Not of the danger,” I clarify. “I’m afraid we’ll be too late. That Lila will already be gone, or worse—changed beyond recognition.”
“If her core remains intact, we will find a way to restore her,” Jhorn promises, his tendril tightening around my hand. “And if not...” His voice softens. “We will honor what she was to you.”
I turn my hand to intertwine my fingers with his tendril, marveling at the way the appendage curves perfectly to accommodate the gesture. “When did you get so wise about human emotions, alien boy?”
A smile curves his lips, rare and precious. “I have had an excellent teacher.”
The simple words hit me harder than they should, emotion tightening my throat. “Jhorn—”
“You have taught me more about feeling, about choosing, about love than my creators ever intended,” he continues, his voice soft but certain. “Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever we face, I want you to know that loving you has made me more than I ever dreamed possible.”
I kiss him then, fierce and desperate and grateful, pouring all my fear and hope and overwhelming affection into the contact. He responds immediately, his free tendrils emerging to wrap around me, pulling me into his lap with careful strength.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his lips, the words still new enough to send wonder through our bond. “So much that it terrifies me sometimes.”
“Good,” he murmurs, nuzzling against my throat. “Terror means it matters.”
What follows is slow and tender, a gentle claiming that’s about reassurance as much as desire. His touches are reverent, worshipful, mapping my body like he’s memorizing every detail. When he finally takes me apart with that devastating precision of his, it’s with whispered promises and endless patience, building my pleasure until I’m trembling and desperate in his arms.
Afterward, we remain tangled together in the pilot’s chair, his tendrils wrapped around me like a living blanket. Through our bond, I feel his deep contentment, his fierce protectiveness, his unwavering love. Whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll face it together.
Obsidian Haven looms before us like a metal leviathan, its jagged superstructure jutting from the asteroid like the remains of some ancient beast. Its docking arms extend like grasping claws, illuminated by the harsh glow of industrial lighting that never sleeps. From a distance, it looks unchanged from when we fled it months ago, but as we draw closer, I note the subtle differences—new security checkpoints, additional sensor arrays, more patrol vessels circling its perimeter like hungry predators.
“The Brotherhood has indeed been busy,” Jhorn observes, his tendrils interfaced with our sensors. “Their influence has grown considerably since our last visit.”
“More reason to get in and out quickly,” I mutter, adjusting our approach vector to take advantage of the sensor shadows created by legitimate traffic. “Ready with that disruption field?”
Jhorn nods, his concentration evident in the intensified glow of his bond-lines. “Field activated. Sensors calibrated to identifyus as maintenance debris. We should approach during the next thermal discharge cycle in approximately seven minutes.”
I guide The Starlight Tether into position, using a cluster of actual debris as additional cover. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline sharpening my senses to hyperactive clarity. Through our bond, I feel Jhorn’s calm focus, a steadying counterpoint to my nervous energy.
“Thermal discharge beginning,” he announces. “Now, Kaylee.”
