Page 14 of Alien’s Love Child

CHAPTER 14

JESSE

L eo's silver hair catches the artificial sunlight streaming through the station's dome as he toddles across our small garden patch. My heart clenches – he looks more like his father every day.

"Mama, look!" He holds up a fistful of hydroponically grown daisies, roots and all.

"Those were supposed to stay in the dirt, sweetie." I crouch down, helping him replant them. His tiny blue hands pat the soil with surprising gentleness.

My PerComm buzzes. Rena's smiling face fills the screen. "Ready for visitors?"

"Always. Though you caught us destroying the garden again."

"That's my nephew. Breaking things runs in the family."

Leo perks up at her voice. "Auntie Rena!"

"Hey troublemaker. Save some chaos for when I get there."

I brush dirt from Leo's overalls. "How long are you planetside?"

"Few days. Got a quiet run lined up after. Nothing exciting." The unspoken message is clear – no jobs that might draw attention. "Though I did bring something that might interest you."

"If it's another toy ship, his room's already a fleet."

"Better. Remember that Odex tea blend you loved? Found some on Novaria."

My nose wrinkles. "The stuff that smells like wet fur?"

"The very same. See you in twenty?"

"We'll be here." Where we've been for the past three years. Safe. Hidden. Boring.

I watch Leo arrange his rescued daisies in a crooked line. He has Davin's careful precision, even at two and a half. Sometimes I catch him staring at the stars with that same intensity his father had.

The garden dome's climate controls hum steadily overhead. Everything here is regulated, predictable, secure. It's what Leo needs. What I need.

But some nights, when the station's artificial day cycle dims and Leo's asleep, I still feel the pull of open space. The thrill of outrunning patrol ships. The rush of a successful job.

The memory of silver hair and blue skin under starlight.

Sometimes I think about the way I was raised: always on a ship, surrounded by my father's crew who all raised me like one of their own. I was always in danger. Sometimes they even used me as a distraction! After all, what sort of dangerous smugglers would keep an adorable seven year old on board?

Obviously we were up to no good.

When I find myself missing those days, I wonder why I can't see myself raising Leo the same way. Then I remember.

Mom and Dad ran their crew together. They never thought twice about having me in their world because their world never blew up in their faces.

No, it's better like this. It's better for Leo.

I shake off the thought as Leo tugs my sleeve. "Mama, hungry."

"Let's get cleaned up before Auntie Rena arrives. Race you to the bathroom?"

His delighted shriek echoes through our small home as he runs ahead, leaving a trail of dirt in his wake.

Leo sprawls on the floor, making whooshing noises as he pilots his new toy ship through imaginary asteroid fields. Rena settles next to me on the couch, kicking off her boots.

"You wouldn't believe who applied for the navigator position last week." She takes a long sip of the Odex tea. "A Thraxian who couldn't tell port from starboard."

"You're joking."

"Wish I was. Nearly crashed us into the docking bay during the test run."

I pull my legs under me, getting comfortable. "What about that Kaleidian you mentioned?"

"Too rigid. Kept quoting Alliance protocols." She rolls her eyes. "We need someone who can think on their feet when patrols show up."

"Like that time you reversed our engine signature mid-jump?"

"Exactly. Though I'd rather not have to do that again. Pretty sure I singed off my eyebrows."

Leo crashes his ship into the coffee table with an explosive sound effect. I wince at the bang.

"The crew misses you," Rena says softly. "Especially Paraxan. Says the food's gone downhill since you left."

"That's because no one else will put up with his picky eating habits." I watch Leo right his ship, checking for damage. "How is the old grump?"

"Still complaining about his back. Still refusing to retire." She leans forward. "You know, good navigators are hard to find, and the captain's chair feels a little too big sometimes."

My chest tightens. "Rena..."

"Just saying. The option's there." She gestures around our little home. "This isn't you, Jess. Never has been."

"It has to be now." I nod toward Leo, who's now having an animated conversation with his toy ship. "I can't risk it. Not with him."

Rena's shoulders slump, but she doesn't push. She knows better. Instead, she launches into a story about their latest close call with customs, and I let myself get lost in tales of the life I left behind.

The sun cycle dims, signaling evening on the station. Leo's crashed on the floor, surrounded by toy ships and spare parts he's collected from who knows where. My son, already showing signs of being a proper spacer.

Rena checks her PerComm and stretches. "Should head back. Ship won't captain itself."

"You could stay the night. Leo would love having breakfast with his favorite aunt."

"Can't. Got that run tomorrow." She hesitates, glancing at Leo. Her fingers tap against her thigh – a tell she's had since I've known her. Something's up.

"Hey kid," I say. "Why don't you go watch that new holo-vid about the space whales? The one Auntie Rena brought?"

Leo's head snaps up. "The glowy ones?"

"Yeah, those." I ruffle his silver hair. "Go on. Grown-up talk time."

He scrambles to his feet, gathering his favorite ship. "Can I have snacks?"

"One packet." I watch him dash off, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

"You know he's going to take two," Rena says with a smirk.

"That's why I said just one."

The door to his room slides shut with a soft hiss. Rena's still doing that nervous tapping thing.

"Okay, spill it." I lean forward. "What's got you wound tighter than a faulty grav generator?"

She won't meet my eyes. That's new – Rena always faces things head-on. My stomach churns.

"What's the big deal, Rena?"

Rena picks at an invisible thread on her sleeve. "Might be nothing, but I ran into Jovan on Novaria."

"How's our favorite information broker? Still charging credits just to say hello?"

"Actually bought me a drink this time." She shifts on the couch. "Had some decent leads. Cargo runs, mostly legal-adjacent stuff."

"But?"

"Someone's been asking about you. A merc."

The air leaves my lungs. I force myself to breathe normally. "What kind of questions?"

"The usual. Where you might be, your usual haunts. Jovan didn't get much else – not even a species description." She touches my arm. "Like I said, could be nothing. Old business catching up, maybe someone from the Xander mess."

My hands curl into fists. "Did Jovan say when?"

"Started about a week ago. Jesse..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "You've got backup if you need it. We could move you somewhere else, set up new idents-"

"I'm fine." The words come out sharper than intended. "Really. Probably just someone following old leads. It happens."

"You sure? Because I can-"

"It's fine." I stand, plastering on a smile. "You should get going if you want to make that run tomorrow."

Rena's expression says she's not buying it, but she knows me well enough not to push. She pulls on her boots, pausing at the door.

"You need anything – anything at all – you call. Got it?"

"Got it. Now go captain your ship."

I watch her walk down the station's corridor until she disappears around the corner. Only then do I let my hands shake.

My hands won't stop trembling as I lock the front door. Three times. Then check it again. The familiar click-hiss should be reassuring, but it's not enough. Nothing feels like enough right now.

I press my forehead against the cool metal. A merc asking questions. Could be anyone from my past – that botched run on Imas, the classified data we "relocated" from the military base, or hell, even something from Mom and Dad's old jobs. Ghosts have long memories in this business.

Leo's delighted laugh echoes down the hallway, pulling me back to the present. Right. Focus on what matters.

I find him sprawled on his bed, eyes wide as luminescent space whales dance across his ceiling. He's already changed into his favorite pajamas – the ones with little spaceships that match his toy collection.

"Room for one more?"

"Mama, look!" He points at a particularly massive whale gliding overhead. "It's bigger than our whole house!"

"Sure is." I settle beside him, and he immediately curls into my side. His hair tickles my chin. "Did you know real space whales can swallow entire ships?"

"Really?" He's so smart for his age. I figured it must be the Kaleidian in him, human children don't grow up and speak so maturely this young.

"Mmhmm. Your grandpa once had to outrun one. Way, way out past charted space"

"Tell that story!"

"Another time, sweetie. Let's watch these ones first."

The holo casts soft blue light across his room as the whales swim through star clusters. Leo's breathing slowly evens out, but his grip on his ship stays firm. Just like his father – always alert, even in sleep.

I run my fingers through his hair, memorizing the weight of him against me. Whatever's coming, whoever's asking questions, they're not getting anywhere near my son.

The largest whale passes directly overhead, its bioluminescent patterns pulsing like a heartbeat. Leo mumbles something about flying with them someday.

"Maybe you will, little one," I whisper. "But for now, you're staying right here with me."