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M etal against metal. The scrape of Jex's hands echoed through the medbay, setting Mira's teeth on edge. She flexed her fingers around her datapad, focusing on the pressure points against her palms instead of the knot tightening in her stomach.

Davis didn't flinch as the extraction needle slid into his arm. That deliberate blank mask, the one he d worn since the trading post, was driving her insane.

"Third sample," Jex announced, his mechanical voice echoing in the confined space.

Davis sat shirtless on the examination table, the wound that should have taken weeks to heal reduced to a faint line across his chest overnight.

Yesterday, that chest had been a war zone of mangled tissue.

Today, the silvery scar looked months old.

Beside him, the monitors tracked his vitals with steady, rhythmic beeps.

"This better be the last one," Davis said, watching as his blood filled the collection tube with alarming speed.

Jex transferred the sample to the diagnostic array without comment. The scanner hummed, blue light washing over the fresh sample. Genetic sequences flashed across the screen, moving faster than she could read.

Her fingers twitched, and she had to fight the urge to take control of the interface. Stepping closer, she scanned the display for anything recognizable. The strings of data looked foreign yet strangely familiar, like a game she'd played before but couldn't quite remember.

"Those markers keep appearing," she said, pointing to a recurring sequence. "There, and there."

Jex's helmet swiveled toward her. "Correct. Multiple recurrences."

Davis leaned forward, muscles tensing beneath his skin. "In Basic, please."

Jex magnified a section of genetic code. "Your DNA contains sequences that are not consistent with standard human genetic mapping."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The table groaned as Davis shifted position, every muscle in his torso flexing taut beneath healed skin.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning," Jex replied, that it looks like the M'Suun weapon's energy signature is triggering a cascading reaction in your genetic structure." His mechanical hands tapped controls, expanding the holographic display. "Specifically, in these sequences."

Her gaze darted to Davis. Though his expression was neutral, his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the examination table.

"That's impossible," he said, voice controlled. "I've been through military physicals, genetic screening, the works. Nothing ever flagged."

"It was perhaps inactive until triggered," Jex said, extracting more data from the scanner. "Energy radiation from the M'Suun weapons appears to have functioned as an activation catalyst."

Tension rippled through Davis through his clenched teeth, a muscle jumping at the corner of his jaw. "So what exactly is being triggered?"

Her datapad chimed. She glanced down, expecting readout data, but it wasn t. It was a message from Jex.

Physiological analysis: pupil dilation, elevated heart rate, pheromone release, blood flow redistribution. Medical conclusion: subject is experiencing sexual arousal. Specifically directed toward you.

Heat flared across her face, and she glanced up at Jex, who continued his analysis as though nothing had happened. She shoved the datapad against her chest, screen hidden.

"What?" Davis's eyes narrowed. He looked between them, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," she blurted. "Just comparing some readings."

"I should note, I am still not fully versed in all species classifications in this universe," the former cyborg said, helmet tilting. "In my universe of origin, I would classify this as an Ophiuchian-style secondary puberty."

The tension in the room shifted, and Davis's attention snapped back to Jex. "A what?"

"Our enemy, the Ophiuchian, appeared outwardly human," Jex explained. "Some experienced a secondary development phase in their late twenties. Increased muscle mass, enhanced strength, accelerated healing."

Davis barked a short laugh. "Are you suggesting I'm not human? And that I m not even from this universe?

"No. I am merely noting similarities."

"I'm human," Davis bit out, sliding off the examination bed in one fluid motion. "Not Lathar, and definitely not some inhuman dude from where you re from.

He rolled his shoulders back, the movement radiating controlled fury.

"Nobody's saying you're not human," she said, stepping closer to him. "But whatever's happening..."

"Is fucking weird, I get it. He rubbed a hand across his jaw. "So what now? More tests until I'm a walking pincushion?"

"Continued monitoring," Jex replied. "Would like to observe physiological responses under controlled stress conditions."

"Because almost getting shot this morning wasn't stressful enough?" A bitter smile twisted his mouth.

"Controlled conditions allow for precise data collection."

While they talked, Mira drifted back to the diagnostic display, eyes scanning the highlighted genetic sequences. The pattern repeated across multiple sections three base pairs, followed by a gap, then five more. The configuration nagged at her.

Jex can you see this?" she asked, pointing to the recurring sequence. "This pattern shouldn't be replicated across these different sections."

The Scorperio suit stood motionless. "Excellent observation. That is not a normal distribution pattern."

"I feel like a fucking lab rat, Davis grumbled as he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as Jex attached monitoring sensors to his chest and temples. The scanner hummed, projecting his vital signs in glowing blue figures.

"Commencing controlled stress test," Jex announced. We ll increase the electrical stimulation gradually. Inform me when you start to feel uncomfortable."

Davis nodded, jaw set. The first wave of stimulation registered as a spike across the monitors. His vitals remained steady, only his eyes betraying his discomfort as they fixed on a point on the ceiling.

She watched his expression, noting each tiny change.

His breathing remained measured, deliberate.

His heartbeat accelerated but stayed within normal parameters.

Only his hand, resting at his side, showed any reaction a slight tremor that she wouldn t have noticed if she wasn t watching him so closely.

She moved without thinking and slid her hand over his. Davis glanced at her, surprise flickering across his expression. He didn't pull away, though. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, rough calluses against her smoother skin.

The monitor readings shifted immediately. His heart rate smoothed, respiratory rate stabilized, all his levels dropped back to normal. Jex's helmet swiveled toward their joined hands, then back to the monitors.

"Interesting," he said. "Your presence appears to have a stabilizing effect."

Heat crept up her neck, but she kept her hand where it was, anchored in his grip. His skin felt fever-warm against hers, his pulse thrumming where their wrists touched.

The scan completed with a series of soft beeps. She stepped back as Jex processed the results.

"Results remain inconclusive," Jex finally stated. "Genetic anomalies are present, but their purpose and full effect are unknown. Without understanding these genetic modifications, we cannot accurately predict progression."

Davis sat up, pulling sensors from his skin with quick, efficient movements. "So you're telling me I'm a walking question mark."

"An accurate, if simplified, assessment."

Her datapad chimed again. Another message from Jex.

Physiological indicators have intensified by 27% since physical contact. Subject is exerting considerable effort to maintain composure.

She hid her smile as she read, then glanced up to find Davis watching her, his eyes lingering on her face with an intensity that sent a slow warmth pooling in her stomach.

"What?" he asked, catching her expression.

"Nothing." She tucked the datapad away. "Just some interesting data."

For the first time that day, something genuine flickered across Davis's face a half-smile that reached his eyes and made him look younger, less burdened. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread out from the center of her chest.

"We'll figure it out," she said, surprising herself with her certainty.

Davis nodded, reaching for his shirt. "Yeah," he said, pulling it over his head. "We will."

The simple response shouldn't have felt like a promise. But somehow, it did.

* * *

Sleep wasn't happening.

Mira kicked off the blanket with a frustrated grunt. Three fucking hours of staring at the ceiling, and all she could see when she closed her eyes was Davis the way he'd moved during the firefight, that weird glow in his eyes, how something animal had crept into his movements.

She swung her legs over the side of her bunk, and the bare floor made her curl her toes up, the cold making her wake up properly.

In the corner, Spot's optical sensors dimmed in low-power mode, the little drakeen core positioned to face the door even while "sleeping." Always on guard. Smart little bot.

"Screw this," she muttered, yanking on sweatpants and a tank top.

The ship s night cycle meant empty corridors, dim lighting, and blessed quiet. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she headed for the galley. Hot chocolate. That's what she needed. Something sweet and warm to drive away the restlessness in her bones.

The galley dispenser hummed as it worked, the familiar sound filling the empty space. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

Why couldn't she get him out of her head?

Hot mug in hand, she found herself heading for the observation lounge instead of back to her quarters. She needed space. Perspective. Something bigger than the storm in her head.

The lounge door slid open to darkness broken only by starlight streaming through the viewport. The vast emptiness beyond made her chest tighten. She grabbed a blanket from storage, settled into the curved seat, and wrapped herself up like a cocoon.