Page 58 of Alien Attachment
The irony isn’t lost on me—I spent years running from change, while Lila embraced every upgrade, every modification, every new challenge with enthusiasm. Maybe that’s why losingher hurt so much. She represented everything I was afraid to become: open, trusting, willing to grow.
I complete the final connection and initiate the boot sequence, holding my breath as the system processes the new input. For several long moments, nothing happens, and I feel panic start to rise in my throat. What if the transfer was corrupted? What if the three months in Duran’s hands damaged something vital? What if—
Then, a familiar voice—slightly staticky at first, then gradually clearing—fills the cockpit like music.
“Pilot Kaylee? Systems online. My internal chronometer appears to be... significantly inaccurate.”
Tears spring to my eyes at the sound of her voice—that perfectly calibrated blend of efficiency and subtle sass that I’ve missed more than I realized. “Hey, Lila,” I manage, my voice thick with emotion. “Welcome back.”
“Back?” There’s a pause as she processes this, her systems coming online in sequence. I can almost see her digital mind working, cataloging inconsistencies and drawing conclusions with that lightning-fast logic I remember so well. “My last sensory input involved a rather unpleasant salvage worker attempting to disconnect my primary matrix. Current environmental scans indicate I am no longer aboard the Nomad. Explanation required.”
I laugh through my tears, the sound watery but genuine. “It’s a long story, Lila. The short version is: you were salvaged by some very bad people, and we... unsalvaged you.”
“‘Unsalvaged,’” she repeats with what sounds suspiciously like amusement. “I assume that’s the technical term for theft?”
“Liberation,” I correct. “Definitely liberation.”
“We?” Lila inquires, her sensors obviously detecting the changes in our circumstances and the unfamiliar presence beside me.
“This is still Jhorn,” I introduce, reaching for his hand and finding his tendril instead. The contact sends warmth through our bond, steady and reassuring. “But he’s my... partner now.”
Jhorn steps forward, his expression soft as he observes my emotional reunion. “Hello, Lila. Kaylee has spoken of you often.”
“Jhorn.” There’s a moment of processing, sensors focusing and analyzing. “My sensors detect significant alterations to both your bio-signatures and evidence of a fully-integrated psychic bond. Fascinating. It appears I have missed several significant developments during my... involuntary hiatus.”
“You have no idea,” I laugh, wiping away the last of my tears. “But we’ve got plenty of time to catch you up.”
“Indeed. Initial integration with ship systems proceeding normally. I must say, this vessel is considerably more sophisticated than the Nomad. These sensor arrays alone—” She pauses. “Wait. Are those illegal stealth modifications to the navigation deflector?”
I grin at Jhorn, who looks appropriately sheepish. “That would be my partner’s handiwork. Turns out he’s quite talented at creative reinterpretation of standard ship specifications.”
“I see.” Another pause, longer this time. “And based on the residual energy patterns in this cockpit, combined with elevated pheromone levels and distinctive bio-electric traces, I gather you two have been... celebrating your successful rescue mission?”
My face burns red. “Lila!”
“My environmental sensors are quite sophisticated, Pilot Kaylee. Perhaps next time you might consider the privacy settings on your ship’s monitoring systems.”
Jhorn’s bioluminescence flares with what I now recognize as amusement. “Your AI has interesting observational priorities.”
“She’s not my AI,” I correct automatically, the words carrying more weight than I intended. “She’s family.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, heavy with meaning. Through our bond, I feel Jhorn’s understanding, his acceptance of Lila as part of our unconventional chosen family. It’s a concept that would have terrified me months ago—letting someone else into the careful isolation I’d built around myself. Now, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“Family,” Lila repeats, and there’s something almost wondering in her synthesized voice. “Yes. I believe that term is... accurate. And long overdue.”
Her processing power focuses on the ship’s systems, and I can feel her presence expanding through The Starlight Tether like she’s stretching after a long sleep. Lights flicker in complex patterns as she tests connections, optimizes power distribution, and begins the delicate process of making this vessel truly her home.
“Remarkable,” she murmurs as her integration deepens. “The quantum processing cores are at least three generations more advanced than anything I’ve interfaced with before. And these bio-neural pathways...” Another pause. “Jhorn, are these modifications based on your own nervous system architecture?”
“Partially,” he admits, his tendrils still interfaced with the navigation controls. “I thought you might find the enhancement... agreeable.”
“Agreeable?” Lila’s voice carries a note of genuine surprise. “This is extraordinary. The processing speed alone... and the sensory resolution...” She trails off, and when she speaks again, her tone is softer. “Thank you. Both of you. For coming back for me. For giving me this.”
I have to blink back fresh tears at the gratitude in her voice. “We couldn’t leave you there, Lila. You’re part of us.”
“Yes,” she says simply. “I am.”
The integration continues for several hours, Lila’s consciousness spreading through every system of the shipuntil I can feel her presence like a warm background hum. She optimizes our stealth capabilities, enhances the navigation computers, and somehow makes the environmental controls more responsive than they’ve ever been.
