Page 35 of The First Child
“Commander Ominox,” Elder Lunai says. “Please respond to these allegations.”
Sylas steps forward with the fluid grace that characterizes all his movements, his bioluminescent markings pulsing with patterns that suggest calm authority despite the tension I feel through our bond.
“The procedures Lieutenant Altell underwent were designed to help her adapt to natural Zephyrian empathic fields during her relationship with Krel’lun,” he explains. “At no point did we attempt to create artificial capabilities. We simply helped a human woman learn to process telepathic input that was already affecting her consciousness.”
“But those adaptations appear to have affected her child’s development,” Dr. Vasquez counters. “Aniska displays empathic abilities that shouldn’t be possible in six-month-old children, regardless of hybrid heritage.”
“Dr. Cuzzort,” Elder Lunai calls. “You’ve studied hybrid development extensively. What is your assessment of the child’s abilities?”
The geneticist rises with careful dignity, her expression thoughtful as she reviews data displays that show Aniska’s developmental patterns alongside those of other hybrid children across multiple colonies.
“Aniska’s empathic capabilities fall within the normal range for children of mixed human-Zephyrian heritage,” she states. “While her abilities are advanced for her chronological age, they’re consistent with accelerated development patterns we’ve observed in other hybrids raised in stable, emotionally supportive environments.”
“You’re saying her abilities are natural rather than artificially enhanced?”
“I’m saying they represent exactly what we would expect from a child with her genetic heritage who’s been provided with optimal developmental conditions.” Dr. Cuzzort’s gaze moves to where I stand holding Aniska, and I see recognitionin her expression. “The bond she’s formed with her guardians appears to provide the emotional stability necessary for healthy empathic development. Removing her from that environment would likely cause significant psychological damage.”
“The TCA position,” Dr. Vasquez interjects, “is that artificial emotional bonding could mask the true extent of experimental contamination. Only controlled study can determine whether this child’s abilities represent natural development or dangerous enhancement.”
“Then perhaps,” Elder Lunai suggests, “we should observe this artificial emotional bonding for ourselves. Captain Blaxton, Commander Ominox, are you willing to demonstrate the empathic connection you’ve formed with the child?”
This is it. The moment everything hinges on. I look at Sylas, feeling his steady presence through our bond, then nod once.
“Yes, Elder. We’re willing.”
“Please proceed.”
I settle cross-legged on the platform, Aniska in my lap, while Sylas takes position beside me. The formal setting makes everything feel surreal, but as I focus on our daughter’s peaceful expression, the tribunal chamber fades into background noise.
“Show them,” Sylas murmurs through our mental connection. “Show them what love looks like.”
So, I do. I open the empathic pathways that connect my consciousness to Aniska’s, letting my emotions flow freely through the bond that’s become as natural as breathing. Love and protectiveness and fierce determination to keep her safe,layered with the simple joy of watching her grow and develop and reach new milestones every day.
The response is immediate and profound. Aniska’s empathic field blazes with contentment so pure it fills the chamber like sunlight, washing over everyone present with the unmistakable sensation of a child who feels completely secure in the love of her guardians. But more than that—through our connection, I feel Sylas’s consciousness joining mine, creating a three-way empathic link that demonstrates the kind of stable family bonding that can’t be faked or artificially produced.
Gasps echo through the chamber as the emotional resonance reaches the observers. Even the TCA representatives look shaken by the intensity of connection they’re witnessing—not clinical attachment or experimental bonding, but love in its purest form.
“Remarkable,” Elder Lunai breathes. “The stability of this empathic triangle is unlike anything I’ve observed in my centuries of experience.”
“It’s natural,” Dr. Cuzzort adds, her voice filled with scientific wonder. “Completely natural family bonding that happens to transcend species boundaries. This isn’t artificial enhancement—this is exactly what healthy empathic development looks like when a hybrid child is raised by guardians who understand both sides of her heritage.”
“Furthermore,” Sylas says, his voice carrying clearly through the chamber despite our continued empathic demonstration, “the bond Captain Blaxton has formed with Aniska provides therapeutic benefits that traditional medical intervention cannot achieve. Separating them would cause psychologicaltrauma that could permanently damage the child’s development.”
Dr. Vasquez looks between us and the data displays showing Aniska’s remarkable developmental progress, her expression shifting from clinical certainty to something approaching confusion. “The empathic resonance is… unexpected.”
“It’s love,” I say simply, letting my voice carry the same emotional honesty that flows through our telepathic connection. “It’s a family choosing each other every day, creating the kind of stability that lets a child thrive regardless of how complicated her heritage might be.”
“And it works,” Dr. Cuzzort adds, consulting her own research data. “Every metric we use to assess child welfare shows that Aniska is developing optimally in your care. Removing her from this environment would serve no scientific purpose and could cause irreparable harm.”
The chamber falls silent except for the soft sounds Aniska makes as she reaches toward the Christmas lights strung throughout the room—decorations Sylas insisted on including to demonstrate the kind of loving environment we’re providing for her first holiday season.
“The tribunal will recess for deliberation,” Elder Lunai announces. “We will reconvene in the morning.”
As the representatives file out, I remain seated on the platform with Aniska in my arms and Sylas’s steady presence in my mind. The empathic connection we demonstrated continues humming between us, creating a bubble of peace that makes the formal tribunal setting feel less important than the simple fact that we’re together.
“Think it worked?” I ask quietly.
“I think they’d have to be completely blind to miss what they just witnessed,” he replies through our mental link. “That wasn’t artificial bonding, Hada. That was a family demonstrating what families do—love each other unconditionally and create safe spaces for children to grow.”
