Page 35 of Alien Attachment (You’ve Got Alien Mail #2)

Family Reunion

Kaylee

The journey back to our hideout passes in a haze of anticipation and barely restrained desire. True to his word, Jhorn spends the entire flight reminding me exactly how alive I am, using every advantage his alien physiology provides to worship my body until I’m trembling and sated in his arms.

By the time we dock at our hidden outpost, I’m boneless with satisfaction, marked inside and out by his possessive touch. His bioluminescent traces glow softly across my skin like living tattoos, and I can still feel the echo of his tendrils in places that make me shiver with remembered pleasure.

“Feeling properly celebrated?” he asks with smug satisfaction, his bond-lines pulsing with contentment as he helps me dress.

“Mmm,” I manage, still not entirely coherent. “Remind me to plan more heists if this is how you respond to success.”

His laughter rumbles through his chest, warm and pleased. “If that is your desire, my Kaylee, I will ensure our ventures are... appropriately rewarded.”

Now, hours later, I sit at the command console with Lila’s matrix cradled carefully in my hands.

The crystal core pulses with faint inner light, holding six years of memories, personality, and the closest thing to a soul that any AI has ever achieved.

My hands shake slightly as I prepare to install her into The Starlight Tether’s systems.

“Will she be compatible with this ship’s architecture?” Jhorn asks, his genuine curiosity evident in both his voice and the gentle pulses of light along his bond-lines.

“Lila’s adaptive,” I explain, fingers dancing across the interface with practiced ease. “She’ll need time to integrate fully, but her core programming is designed to be flexible. She always was better at adapting than I was.”

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 losing her 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 ship until 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.

“So,” she says once the initial setup is complete, her voice now coming from speakers throughout the ship rather than just the cockpit, “shall I begin compiling a list of potentially lucrative and minimally legal courier opportunities in our destination sector?”

I exchange a glance with Jhorn, feeling his amusement through our bond. “You know what, Lila? That sounds perfect.”

“Excellent. I’ve already identified several promising contracts. There’s a medical supply run to a quarantined colony that’s offering triple rates, a discrete cargo transfer in the Proxima system, and—” She pauses. “Oh. This is interesting.”

“What?” I ask, noting the change in her tone.

“I’m detecting a priority message in the encrypted channels. It’s addressed to... Karly Dorian.”

My blood runs cold. Only a handful of people know that identity, and most of them shouldn’t be trying to contact us. “Can you trace the source?”

“Working on it... Source identified. It’s from Vex.”

I relax slightly. Vex is paranoid enough to have multiple ways of tracking their clients, and professional enough to keep quiet about it. Still, unsolicited contact from an information broker is never a good sign.

“What’s the message?” I ask.

“Forwarding to your display now.”

The text appears on my screen, short and to the point in typical Vex fashion:

K.D. - Your former employers have become more aggressive in their search efforts. Suggest immediate relocation to secondary markets. New opportunities await in the Helix Nebula if you’re interested in specialized transport work. Discretion guaranteed. - V

“ApexCorp,” Jhorn observes grimly, reading over my shoulder. “They have not abandoned their pursuit.”

“Did we really think they would?” I sigh, studying the message. “They invested too much in you to just write it off as a loss.”

“The Helix Nebula is a good suggestion,” Lila interjects. “It’s largely uncharted, minimal corporate presence, and the natural phenomena would make tracking us significantly more difficult.”

“Plus it’s about as far from ApexCorp territory as we can get without leaving the galaxy entirely,” I add. “What kind of specialized transport work is Vex talking about?”

“Unknown,” Lila admits. “But given their reputation, I would assume it involves moving things that other people don’t want moved.”

“Our specialty,” I say with dark humor. “Alright, set course for the Helix Nebula. We’ll rendezvous with Vex at whatever coordinates they specify.”

“Already plotting the course,” Lila confirms. “ETA: six days at maximum stealth velocity.”

As the ship’s engines engage and we slip into hyperspace, I find myself looking forward to whatever comes next.

For the first time since this whole adventure began, I feel like we’re not just running from something—we’re running toward something.

New opportunities, new challenges, new ways to build the life we’ve chosen together.

“Are you concerned about continuing this lifestyle?” Jhorn asks, settling into the co-pilot’s seat beside me. “The constant movement, the need for secrecy?”

I consider the question, watching the stars streak past our viewport. A few months ago, the answer would have been yes. The idea of never being able to settle down, never having a permanent home, would have terrified me. But now...

“Home isn’t a place,” I say finally. “It’s the people you choose to be with. And as long as I have you two, I think I can handle whatever the galaxy throws at us.”

“Sentimental,” Lila observes, but there’s warmth in her voice. “Though I concur with the assessment. We make an effective team.”

“The most effective,” Jhorn agrees, his tendril finding my hand and squeezing gently. “Whatever challenges await us in the Helix Nebula, we will face them together.”

“Together,” I repeat, and for once the word doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels like a promise, like a choice freely made and gladly embraced.

Through our bond, I feel Jhorn’s deep contentment, his unwavering love, his excitement about our uncertain future.

Around us, Lila’s presence hums through the ship’s systems, a constant reminder that family isn’t just about blood or programming—it’s about the bonds we choose to forge and the loyalty we offer freely.

“So,” I say, settling back in my chair with a satisfied sigh, “what’s our first order of business once we reach the Helix Nebula?”

“I suggest we establish a base of operations,” Lila replies. “Somewhere with good sensor coverage and multiple escape routes.”

“And then we find Vex and see what kind of specialized transport work they have in mind,” I add. “Hopefully something that pays well and doesn’t involve too much shooting.”

“I make no promises about the shooting,” Jhorn says with dry humor. “But I will ensure any such encounters are resolved quickly and decisively.”

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months. “You know what? I think I can live with that.”

As The Starlight Tether carries us toward our uncertain but chosen future, I realize that for the first time in my life, I’m not running from something. I’m not driven by debt or desperation or the need to escape my past.

I’m running toward something better. Something I helped build, something I chose, something that’s mine not because I was born to it or assigned to it, but because I fought for it.

And that makes all the difference.

“Course laid in,” Lila announces. “Estimated arrival in the Helix Nebula: five days, fourteen hours, thirty-seven minutes.”

“Then I guess we’d better get comfortable,” I say, noting the way Jhorn’s bond-lines pulse with anticipation at the prospect of five days alone together in hyperspace. “This should be interesting.”

“Indeed,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to that register that makes my pulse quicken. “Very interesting indeed.”

Through our bond, I feel his hunger, his plans for how we might spend those long hours between the stars. And around us, Lila’s amused observation that perhaps she should develop some selective awareness protocols if we’re going to be spending extended time in close quarters.

I grin, settling back to enjoy the journey. Whatever the Helix Nebula has in store for us, at least we’ll arrive thoroughly satisfied and ready for anything.

After all, we’re not just a crew anymore. We’re a family. And there’s nothing the galaxy can throw at us that we can’t handle together.

“Hey Lila?” I say as the ship settles into the steady rhythm of hyperspace.

“Yes, Kaylee?”

“It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” she replies. “Now, shall we discuss our new criminal enterprise? I have several proposals for maximizing profit while minimizing legal exposure.”

I exchange a look with Jhorn, his alien features lit by the warm glow of his bioluminescence. “You know what? Let’s hear them.”

As Lila begins outlining her surprisingly detailed plans for our future operations, I can’t help but smile. Some families bond over dinner and holiday traditions. Apparently, mine bonds over heist planning and creative interpretations of interstellar law.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.