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FOURTEEN

AEON

Later that afternoon, I sat alone in the archives room, surrounded by a sea of datapads displaying Olivia’s meticulously organized obstetrics protocols.

My fingers traced across the screens’ surfaces, absorbing information at a rate that would have overwhelmed a human mind.

Fetal development timelines. Complication indicators. Emergency procedures.

Yet concentration eluded me.

The memory of her naked body pressed against mine kept intruding—the softness of her skin and the catch in her breath when I touched her. My jaw clenched so tightly I thought my teeth might crack.

“Focus,” I muttered, swiping to the next page on placental development.

Through the glass partition separating the archives from the main area of the medical bay, I caught glimpses of Olivia instructing two medical staff members.

Her hands moved with precise, confident gestures as she demonstrated a technique on a simulation model.

Even from this distance, I could see the passion lighting her eyes when she spoke and the way her entire being came alive when sharing her knowledge.

Something twisted uncomfortably in my chest. An ache. Unfamiliar. Distracting.

I closed my eyes, letting my learning algorithms process the obstetrics data, but instead I found myself wondering what she was thinking. Was she regretting our night together? Was she feeling this same... whatever this was?

I had never questioned my emotional responses before Olivia arrived. They were simply data points—relevant or irrelevant to mission parameters. But this felt different. Messier. More human.

“Commander?”

I glanced up to see Tobin, one of our tech specialists, standing in the doorway.

“What is it?” My voice came out harsher than intended.

“The perimeter sensors detected unusual movements in the eastern section of the jungle. Probably nothing, but Commander Helix wanted you informed.”

“I’ll check it shortly.” I turned back to the datapad, dismissing him.

When he left, I found myself staring at Olivia again through the glass. She smiled at something one of the medical staff said—a genuine, unguarded moment. The smile faded quickly, like she’d remembered her situation. The glimpse of it drove a spike of residual guilt through me.

I’d forcefully taken her. Ripped her from her world. And now I wanted her to... what? Care for me? Want me?

The realization struck hard. I didn’t just want her medical expertise. I wanted her. Not as a resource or an asset but as a woman. As Olivia.

My fist clenched, nearly cracking the tablet’s edge. These feelings complicated everything. Threatened the mission. Threatened the colony.

I stood abruptly, needing to move, and needing to think away from this setting.

The jungle beyond our settlement called to me.

Open air might clear my head. But as I reached the door, I caught one last glimpse of Olivia through the glass, her brow furrowed in concentration as she corrected a technique.

Beautiful. Strong. Captive.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t programmed for this kind of conflict. Yet here it was—raw and demanding and completely beyond my control.

For the first time in my cyborg existence, I had no protocol or explicit orders to follow to handle my relationship with Olivia or these human feelings and emotions taking over my body and mind.

I soon slashed through the dense undergrowth of the jungle with my combat blade, each stroke more forceful than necessary.

The jungle’s oppressive heat pressed against my skin, beads of sweat rolling down my neck.

Each step deeper into the eastern section took me further from the settlement—and from Olivia.

Her face haunted me still. The way her green eyes had widened when I touched her, and the soft gasp that escaped her lips when I?—

I drove the blade into a thick vine with an aggressive thrust.

“Damn it,” I muttered, yanking it back out. This wasn’t helping clear my head. If anything, the isolation intensified her presence in my thoughts.

The security alert coordinates flashed on my communicator on my wrist. I was close now. Scanning the area, I detected nothing unusual—just the normal cacophony of alien wildlife and the distant sound of rushing water from the eastern falls.

“Figured I’d find you out here, brooding in the foliage.”

I whirled around, my hand instinctively reaching for my sidearm before registering Sage’s voice. She emerged from between two massive fern-like plants, her slight frame belying her combat capabilities.

“I’m not brooding,” I growled. “I’m investigating the perimeter alert.”

Sage’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Multitasking, then. Investigating and brooding simultaneously.”

I turned away, resuming my patrol path. “The alert?”

“Probably just a herd of those six-legged herbivores moving through. Scanners picked up nothing threatening.” She came up beside me, matching my strides. “You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to snap that blade in half.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.” She leapt gracefully over a fallen log. “That’s why you nearly took my head off when I approached. Pure relaxation.”

We walked in silence for several minutes, the jungle’s humidity clinging to us like a second skin. I felt her studying me, analyzing my movements and expressions with the precision that made her our colony’s best intelligence officer.

“So,” she finally said, “you and Dr. Parker.”

I clenched my jaw tight. “There is no me and Dr. Parker.”

“Your heart rate just spiked.” Sage smirked, looking at the communicator on my wrist. “And you’re crushing that innocent sampling device in your left hand.”

I looked down, surprised to find I’d indeed been gripping the environmental analyzer with excessive force. I relaxed my fingers and scowled at her.

“You’re falling for her,” Sage stated, not a question but a simple observation.

“She’s a valuable medical asset. Nothing more.”

Sage laughed outright now. “Oh please. I’ve known you since the liberation, Aeon. You’ve never looked at any ‘valuable medical asset’ the way you look at her.”

I stopped walking, turning to face her. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I want you to recognize what’s happening to you.” Her expression softened. “These feelings—they’re not a malfunction or a weakness. They might actually strengthen us.”

“How? By distracting me from my duties? By compromising my judgment?”

“By reminding us all what we’re fighting for.” She gestured back toward the settlement. “Those children will need more than just physical care. They’ll need examples of connection and human bonds. Maybe you and Olivia could be something important for our future.”

The thought sent an uncomfortable warmth through my body. “My primary objective remains protecting this colony. Ensuring our survival.”

“And who says love can’t be part of survival?” She raised an eyebrow. “Besides, your brain isn’t some fixed programming anymore. None of ours are. We’re evolving. Becoming something neither fully machine nor fully human.”

My mind rebelled against her words, yet something deeper—something primal—responded to them. “I don’t know how to process these... reactions. They don’t follow logical patterns.”

“That’s kind of the point.” Sage patted my shoulder. “Stop trying to control them. That’s your problem. You’re still thinking like your emotions are subroutines you can manage.”

I exhaled slowly, looking up through the canopy where Planet Alpha’s twin moons were becoming visible in the darkening sky. “We should head back.”

Sage nodded, but before turning, she added, “Just consider that what’s good for you might also be good for all of us. You deserve happiness, too, Commander.”

I quickened my pace through the settlement as I approached the medical bay, an unfamiliar tightness gripping my chest. What if Olivia had vanished while I was investigating the perimeter? The thought struck me harder than expected, summoning a raw discomfort I couldn’t easily dismiss.

But there she was—still teaching and still focused.

Something in me eased at the sight of her.

Through the glass, I watched her hands move with practiced precision as she demonstrated proper ultrasound placement on a simulation model.

The two medical staff leaned forward, entranced by her expertise.

Her brown waves were pulled back in a messy knot, exposing the elegant curve of her neck.

I entered silently, waiting for her to finish rather than interrupting. One of the staff noticed me first, straightening immediately. Olivia turned, and for a heartbeat our eyes locked. Something flickered there—not fear or anger but something softer that caused my pulse to quicken.

“Commander,” she acknowledged, her voice formal but lacking the cold edge from previous days.

“Doctor Parker,” I said with professional courtesy. My voice then lowered to another level. “It’s getting late.”

She glanced at the chronometer on the wall, genuine surprise crossing her features. “I didn’t realize the time.”

The medical staff took this as their cue, gathering their notes and nodding respectfully before departing. When we were alone, an electric silence settled between us.

“You should eat,” I said, the words coming out more like an order than I intended. I softened my tone. “Have you had dinner?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. “Is that an invitation?”

Her light tone surprised me. “Yes,” I admitted. “If you’d like.”

I braced for rejection, for the wall to come back up between us. Instead, she set down her teaching materials and unpinned her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

“Lead the way,” she said simply.

The settlement’s central plaza was bathed in the crimson-gold glow of Planet Alpha’s setting suns.

Food vendors had set up along the perimeter, their stalls emitting mouthwatering aromas that drew small crowds.

Unlike Earth’s sterile cities, our colony embraced a more organic integration with the jungle—buildings constructed of local materials, and pathways winding between towering trees rather than cutting through them.

“This is always so unexpected to me,” Olivia paused, taking in the vibrant scene.

“What did you expect of us? Underground bunkers? Military barracks?” I guided her toward a vendor specializing in a savory protein dish with local spices.

She smiled—a genuine one that reached her eyes. “Something less...alive. This truly feels like a real community.”

“It is.” Pride warmed my voice. “That was always our goal. Not just to survive but to build something worth surviving for.”

We collected our food—hers with fewer spices after I warned her about the potency—and found a small table on a raised platform overlooking where the settlement merged with the jungle. The twin moons had begun their rise, casting silvery light across the canopy.

“It’s simply beautiful,” she murmured, taking her first bite. Her expression shifted to surprise. “And this is delicious.”

“You sound shocked.”

“I just didn’t expect alien cuisine to remind me of Thai food.” She took another bite. “Though considerably spicier.”

I found myself watching the way her lips pressed together after each taste, and the delicate movement of her throat when she swallowed. A heat suddenly rose within me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked softly.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re...” She set her fork down. “I don’t know. Seeing me for the first time.”

The truth tumbled out before I could filter it. “I’m just trying to understand what’s happening between us.”