Disclaimer: Aliens can't own Twilight.
2
Starbase 312, Orion Quadrant, 2621
The doors swish closed briskly behind Astra when she steps into the rounded hallway, locking eyes with glazed rose quartz. Astra decides it's quite the dichotomy to feel the weight of her child next to the weight of her saber and li'lute on her belt, which hung inches lower to accommodate the growth of her stomach. Maybe the saber shouldn't be so close, but in a way it was comforting, knowing that she could do something she was trained to do, because with each second that passed, the weight of fate was heavy on her shoulders.
"Ahlice."
The self-resigned princess blinks, serene face pulling into a tight frown. Mari'Ahlice hadn't been quite the same since her father departed back to Piarix, but it was a good change, as if tension had finally bled out; from what Astra understood, her father had accepted Ahlice's fate as one approved by their Gods, even if Ahlice's chosen-destined mate was not one he personally approved of. Uncouth, had been the word she remembers Ahlice parroting. As if Ja'asper was anything less than a restrained, intelligent warrior – Astra had the notion that Bilbo's ideals were more than a little dated.
"There is no time," Ahlice tells her.
"Time for what-"
"Your duty is to protect the life within you," Ahlice cuts her off. "And remember, regardless of what happens - Always trust white, Astra. The ones in white are like you."
Ahlice had said that before and Astra still had no idea what it meant. She could guess – Khai could guess – but it was vague and terrifying in a way that Astra couldn't quite describe. Trust those who wear white? Astra knew of nobody, save for the medical employees of the infirmary, who wore white. There was nobody to trust, nobody who was like her that fit Ahlice's warning.
Astra doesn't get the chance to ask for clarification, because the ship AI system is speaking again, cutting her thoughts to the quick.
"Docked on Starbase 312. All Alpha personnel report to the bridge. All Alpha personnel report to the bridge. Docked on Starbase 31-"
"We need to go," Ahlice says, turning on her heel. "Fate cannot be disrupted. The future depends on our movements."
She speaks half-truths, Khai thinks coldly, following Ahlice with his hands folded behind his back. I do not appreciate her attempts of forewarning.
Astra shakes her head, breathing deeply, stepping onto the turbolift just behind Khai and Ahlice. Don't doubt Mari'Ahlice, she tells her husband, shooting him a significant look. She has not been wrong before.
She implies that you are in immediate danger, adun'a.
I've felt on edge recently. You're aware of this.
Khai's jaw clenches, his mind swirling with dark emotion. Your apprehension has been illogical until now. I do not believe in coincidences.
Astra understood what Khai did not say – he wanted her to be cautious.
As if she could be anything but cautious.
It will be fine, adun.
At least, that was what Astra told herself.
*N*O*V*A*
There were seven scientists – only seven, and not one of them actually looked like a scientist. They were built too solidly, their eyes too predatory. They set Astra on edge even more so than she was previously. How could they not, especially as the Nova trembled as it quickly undocks from the starbase?
Still, she is cordial with them, acting out the motions of her training to perfection, warily noting who would hypothetically be the most dangerous opponent, who would be the least worrisome. In a purely theoretic sense, Astra's chances were slim.
She keeps her shoulders straight and her chin held high as she saunters down the hallway, conscious of every echoing step, bidding her husband a brief farewell as Astra and the group of Database scientists enter the turbolift.
Khai's emotionless face, for the first time, is pinched in concern. It's probably that – his expression – more than anything else that tells Astra no good would soon be coming.
She swallows the sudden ice of panic that grips her throat, forcing herself to exhale through the nose as the turbolift doors slide open; Astra sets a brisk pace as she leads the scientists to the guest lounge on the floor of the Nova that is also home to various guest lodgings. "Please notify me if there is anything I can get for you," she says politely as she stops in the middle of the room, back aching from how tightly she holds her posture.
"Actually," one of the least threatening begins, turning with a saccharine sweet smile. "There is something you can do for us."
That didn't sound promising.
"And what would that be, sir?"
The Falleen flicks his reptilian eyes to one of the scientists to the left, who calmly takes out a rectangular piece of machinery, switching it on with a low hum. It vibrates minutely. "You can come with us without too much of a fight."
Three of the scientists lunge towards Astra –
And she's moving before she even registers what she's doing, her hand gripping the li'lute and bringing it to her lips-
A high-pitched, blood-tingling note pierces the air, the same note from that night in Tokyo, the same note that makes the so-called scientists fall to their knees, ears already bleeding. A handful collapse on their sides, dead already.
Astra, for as steadily as she plays the note, the eschak, is shaking, panicking – because one of the scientists, the Falleen, is standing again, glaring, not dead, and reaching for the little device the other scientist had – and then he's coming towards her and the li'lute isn't playing anymore because she ran out of breath and-
-Khai, the scientists-
Astra-
They're not-
What is-
-taking me-
ASTRA-
KHAI!
*N*O*V*A*
Astra wakes to the most curious sensation of being watched. It wasn't unfamiliar, really – Khai had a habit of waking before her and using those moments for the very illogical practice of watching her sleep. He had no excuses when she teased him for it.
But this – this was different. Wrong.
Astra pushes the last brushes of forced unconsciousness away, much like clearing her mind of cobwebs, and opens her eyes, instantly wincing at the harsh white lights shining down on her in an octagon pattern. She tries to sit up, frowning when she finds her hands bound against a sleek metal bed with two buckles on each wrist; her ankles, too, are fastened to the bed, as well as a thick binding belt over her hips. The underlying sense of panic quickens as she takes notes of the various electrodes pasted onto her skin, along with an array of fine needles piercing her skin, connecting her to tubes and monitors that she doesn't have the wherewithal to comprehend.
She blindly reaches out to Khai through the bond and-
Nothing. He's not there. Khai isn't there.
Gasping, Astra pulls against her restraints, reaching out telepathically for her bond-mate, her husband, the one person she loved more than any other being alive.
Khai! Khai, where are you?
All Astra receives in response is a sharp, drawn out sting – an electrocution – from one of the electrodes pasted onto her temple.
Worse yet, her demands fall on a deaf bond – a bond pulled too far by distance, creating a lingering, growing ache in the center of her forehead. It's uncomfortable and she knows that it will only continue to become more persistent. It's worse that she knows the bond is being pulled too taut, that she can see this in the white canvas of her mind, right beside the heavily cloaked bond to her child, the one that was bathed bright orange with caution and an edge of fear.
Perhaps that was the worst part.
Her child knew something was wrong and felt fear.
Astra inhales deeply, collecting her wits. Panicking, no matter how much she wanted to, would do her no good here. She'd been kidnapped, that much was clear, but by whom? The men who took her most certainly weren't affiliated with the Intergalactic Database-
That's it. It wasn't the Database. The ship picked up the wrong passengers, or maybe the Database hadn't ever contacted the Federation in the first place. Anyone with the correct skills could have hacked into the Federation systems or cloaked their identity for long enough to trick the Federation into assigning the Nova to pick up a group of "scientists" at the Starbase – it would be easy. And if Astra had just now thought about how easy it would be, then surely many others would have thought about it, too, and successfully pulled it off.
So, then, who kidnapped her? Who could have so easily stolen her right from under Khai's nose? Who dared put her child in danger?
Astra glares at the narrow slate-grey door, as if the answers to her silent demands would saunter through and the mystery would be solved.
Nobody appeared.
She clenches her jaw as the seconds pass, eyes darting around the room. It was solidly built and rather small, no more than twenty square feet, just big enough for the metal cot she was strapped to and several sleek pieces of equipment that she couldn't identify; there was one large mirror taking up half the wall to her left, allowing her to see that she was, by all appearances, unharmed. The fact that the kidnappers had not hurt her physically calmed her enough that she noticed the faint beeping that seemed to match her heart rate. In fact, now that she noticed the heart monitor electrode taped to her finger, she thought it was odd. Why would the kidnappers bother monitoring her vital signs unless she was-
A lab. She was in a lab.
Please, no. No.
The design was familiar. The large mirror, which she now identified as a one-way window, the metal bed, the machines…all carbon copies of the room Khai grew up in, except everything here was the same maddeningly dull shade of grey.
This was the makings of her nightmares come to life – ever since she'd found out she was half-Giidas, ever since she learned she was pregnant, this had been exactly what she feared. They would have taken her blood by now, whoever kidnapped her, they would know everything about Astra, would know she was carrying a child, would be able to find out who she was related to and-
The narrow slate door slides open and two men step through, one older than the other, though both are very clearly alien – non-Terrans, that is.
"Ah, good," says the older one, the startlingly familiar man, as he enters the room. "You're awake."
With a sinking stomach, several pieces click together in Astra's mind – because who else would look exactly like Khai, only aged forty years older, with salt streaking through copper hair and a set of frown-lines around his mouth?
"Excellent. You recognize me," Ed'vard says monotonously, stepping closer with his hands clasped behind his back, an echo of Khai's favorite casual position. "Our sensors indicate that you have already attempted a telepathic signal, quite possibly to my son, correct?"
Astra says nothing, though her jaw clenches tighter. She did not like seeing Khai's features on Ed'vard, especially knowing that her adun had been raised in a lab, created in a test tube. It didn't occur to Astra until the very moment that Khai was, in all likelihood, more clone than his own individual. It bothered her that Khai was not afforded his own appearance – that he was just a carbon copy of this clearly deranged man.
Ed'vard blinks once at Astra. "It would be in your best interests if you did not make any further attempts," he continues, cold grey eyes moving to linger on her stomach. "The life of your child may not survive more exposure to the electric impulses."
Astra's heart races, reflected by the monitor, as Ed'vard turns away, victory distinct in his posture – because he was right, of course he was. It was jarring to realize that if she wanted to protect her baby, she would have to play along with Ed'vard's plan.
At the door, Ed'vard pauses, looking at her over his shoulder. "It would be most satisfactory for you to cooperate, Thirteen. Once you have given birth, that child will be the second in a generation of augmented species, and you will fulfill your role as a carrier for the subsequent pairings you will participate in…the other females are still too young," he says coolly, eyes harsh though his expression is blank. He appeared to be unhinged in the coldest, most calculating way. "Twelve will be the next mate-pair for you, and as such, he will be the one to assist you through this gestation period."
And then, Ed'vard leaves, the grey door sliding shut behind him and the young man standing against the wall, watching as Astra grapples with what her husband's father-creator-torturer deemed to be her fate.
She was to be nothing more than a living incubator.
Because she was female and able to carry a child in her womb-
R'anee must have known, or at least suspected. Feared. That was why she sent Astra away with Nanini.
Astra feels a tear roll down her face, understanding that her mother died to save Astra from this fate and, somehow, Astra had still fallen victim to it. And her child, should the baby be female, will be destined for the same fate, because it was clear that was all Ed'vard had planned for any of the augmented females in his charge. Carriers.
It made her both sick and nearly blind with rage, her mind a chaos of red fog.
A throat clears and Astra's attention snaps to the young man Ed'vard left behind. Twelve. And she was apparently Thirteen – her disgust rose as she realized Ed'vard named them after what experiment they were. What number did that make Khai if the experiments before him were unsuccessful? And how many of them were there after Khai? After her?
Astra studies Twelve, recognizing that he was Me'atal, his coloring so similar to Ja'asper's, though Twelve's hair was shades darker and his eyes had a distinctly silver hue instead of icy blue. She supposed he was older than she – he was named Twelve, after all – by perhaps a year or less. The fact that he was Me'atal in ethnicity made her suspect that Ed'vard had, at some point, mastered how to genetically engineer across all races.
That was a scary thought.
"I don't want to hurt you," was the first thing Twelve said. Ironically, it did little to soothe Astra's fears. "I'm not- I mean to say- I don't intend to…Ed'vard's ambitions are not ones that I share," he settles on finally.
Astra glances over Twelve critically, using the utmost of her linguistic skills to analyze his facials expressions and body language. Whereas the other men that Astra knew held themselves with confidence, Twelve was comparatively meek. He didn't seem comfortable in his skin. She knew, from Ja'asper, that Me'atals had significantly strong physical capabilities regardless of build or height – so despite the fact that Twelve was only around eighteen years old and still growing into his body, Astra knew he was capable of quite a lot of damage. He may not intend to harm her, but with whatever experiments Ed'vard had performed on Twelve, there was no guarantee that Astra or her child would be safe around him. Very simply, she didn't trust him-
But he was wearing white. All white, from his shirt to the pants tucked into his scuffed shoes. Unbidden, Mari Ahlice's prophetic words rushed through Astra's mind: "Always trust white, Astra. The ones in white are like you."
Ahlice had never been wrong before.
Ignoring the fact that Ahlice very clearly knew that Astra would be in this predicament, especially given Ahlice's visions of the li'lute before the kidnapping, Astra was inclined to believe in the only guidance she had available.
If Ahlice was said to trust the ones in white, the ones that were like Astra – other experiments – then Astra would trust those who wore white.
A distant part of Astra's mind noted that Ed'vard did not wear white. He had been dressed in the same bland grey shade of the walls.
"What's your name?" Astra hears herself say, voice slightly rough from disuse.
Twelve's expression is understandably surprised. "They call me Twelve. That's the name Ed'vard gave me."
"I don't care about that," she argues. "I want to know the name you gave yourself."
Twelve studies Astra as thoroughly as she studied him and finally, after a long moment, answers her. "Ga'arret. What's yours?"
She is tempted – greatly tempted – to give Twelve – no, Ga'arret – the name R'anee and Nah'huel had given her at birth, Izabela. But. But Ga'arret was like her.
Ahlice was never wrong.
Khai was surely looking for her.
Her child's life was inexplicably tipping on the balance.
And Astra would rather die than allow this to be her fate.
So, it's with a deep breath and a steady gaze that she answers, her mind already set, and decided, conviction firmly planted. "Astra," she replies, sure that her eyes are the shade of blue determination. "And you're going to help me and whoever else is trapped in this laboratory escape."
A/N: Well, this is officially the longest I haven't updated. I have no excuses or explanations. Seriously, I suck and life sucks and everything sucks.
HOWEVER – I am announcing that the next few chapters of NOVA, regardless of how long it takes to write and post them, will be much longer than this one, probably double this length. We're moving into the final stages of this story. Buckle up.
NOVA also won Second Place for Favorite Sci-Fi in the Fanatic Fanfic Multifandom Awards – thank you to all who voted, because I was literally shocked to even be nominated. I also cried a little bit when I won. And then I gloated to the characters in my head and shit started getting weird so-
Also, thank you to all the reviews! I truly cherish each one and there are so many. You guys are awesome!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot