Page 21 of Thexan

His hand tightened around mine in quiet agreement.

And this time, neither of us tried to pretend that it was only about survival. Sending him away wouldn’t solve anything. It would just make sure he didn’t survive it.

Chapter Six

Thexan

Awareness did not leave me again after the previous cycle of rest.

It remained steady and controlled, even as my body continued the uneven process of repair. The damage along my side had begun to stabilize under Brynn’s treatment, the interference from the weapon less dominant than before, though not fully neutralized. I could feel the difference in the way my system responded, the internal strain no longer escalating without restraint but settling into something I could monitor rather than endure.

That change was not the result of treatment alone.

Brynn’s presence remained within reach, her proximity maintaining the alignment that had begun the moment contact was established. Even when she shifted her position within the room, even when her focus moved briefly to other tasks, the effect did not fully dissipate. It weakened with distance but did not vanish entirely, as if the initial connection had altered the baseline from which my system now operated.

I did not consider that a variable I could afford to ignore.

I tracked her movement without turning my head, listening to the soft sounds of her work as she moved between the storage cabinet and the preparation surface, the quiet efficiency of her actions reinforcing what I had already observed. She did not waste motion. She did not hesitate. Even under conditions she did not fully understand, she continued to act with deliberate control.

It was an effective trait.

It also increased her exposure to risk.

The external environment had shifted.

That awareness came gradually at first, a subtle change in the ambient sound beyond the structure, the pattern of movement outside the infirmary no longer consistent with routine activity. It was not obvious to an untrained observer. It would not have been intended to be.

It was enough.

I extended my focus outward, filtering through the structural interference of the building and the limitations imposed by my current condition. The terrain beyond the immediate perimeter carried traces of disturbance—light, controlled, deliberately minimized. Movement that did not align with the behavior of the settlement’s inhabitants.

They were here.

Not within immediate range of the structure, but close enough that the interval between detection and engagement would be reduced significantly once they committed to the final approach.

I shifted my attention fully to that realization, allowing the implications to settle into place without resistance.

Their movement pattern was no longer exploratory. They were no longer sweeping the terrain or testing for signs of passage. They had identified the direction of travel and were narrowing their approach with deliberate precision, reducing variables, and eliminating uncertainty.

They would not prolong the search.

They were not hunting me only because I had deserted.

Desertion could be corrected quietly if the unit recovered the subject before exposure occurred. My existence alone was inconvenient, but not catastrophic.

What I carried was different.

The command core secured beneath the plating at my left side contained route records, unit assignments, hidden supply points, and proof that Talon Cell had continued operations inside human territory after the treaty. If the data reached anyone capable of acting on it, the loyalist network would no longer remain concealed.

That was why retrieval was no longer the preferred outcome.

Elimination was.

Brynn returned to my side before I spoke, as though she had sensed the shift in my focus without requiring confirmation. She did not ask immediately what had changed. She studied my expression first, reading the information there in the same way she read the responses of my body under her hands.

“They’re closer,” she said.

“Yes.”