You cradle her close, her small body curled against your chest. Her breathing is steady now, skin warm under the blanket as she tucks her hand beneath her chin. De'rax sits at your side, one arm around your shoulders, the other gently resting across both of you.
"She's perfect," he says softly, in awe. "Our little star."
You nod, smiling through exhausted tears. "Her name is Alessa."
The name feels right—soft, strong, full of hope. A whisper of Earth, a hum of the stars. A symbol of everything you've become.
De'rax repeats it under his breath, almost reverently. "Alessa."
Silver Lining's voice hums gently through the medbay.
"Alessa. Firstborn of Haven. Registered in station logs. Welcome, child."
Outside, the message spreads quickly. From the medbay to the garden wing, through the halls and training rooms—everyone hears.
Argo, standing outside the medbay, lets out a soft chuckle. "Well, damn. We really are building something real."
Ennis steps out behind him, wiping her hands on a towel. "She's healthy. Strong. Her lungs work just fine."
Ty'ris leans against the wall, arm loosely wrapped around Caylee. "First child born free, huh?"
Others gather slowly, not to crowd, but to be close—to feel it. To witness. They bring small offerings. A carved crystal pendant. A soft swaddle blanket sewn from salvaged cloth. A lullaby hummed in a native tongue one hadn't sung in years.
Someone strings flowers from the hydro garden above the medbay door. Another paints a small sigil on the wall: a star nestled inside a blooming tree.
Back inside, you shift gently, letting De'rax take his daughter into his arms for the first time. His fingers, large and clawed, hold her with impossible tenderness.
"Alessa," he whispers. "You were born in freedom. In peace. And we'll fight to make sure you never know anything else."
She coos, a soft little sound, and for just a moment—everyone outside hears it.
The station falls quiet. Then, slowly, a cheer rises—not loud or wild, but full of warmth.
Hope.
New life.
Haven's heart beats stronger.
Eight Years Later – Haven Station
Alessa ran like lightning through the hydro tunnels, bare feet slapping against the soft floor panels, her laughter echoing behind her.
"Alessa!" Ennis's voice rang out from somewhere near the training hall. "You left your lessons again!"
The girl ducked low beneath a support beam and slipped into one of the small garden vents she wasn't supposed to fit through anymore. She did anyway. Always had.
Wild hair, golden eyes like her father's eyes and fierce as the wolf blood that sang in her veins—Alessa was a force of nature. She didn't walk through Haven. She conquered it. The younger children trailed her like pups in a pack, and even the grumpiest mechanics couldn't stay annoyed when she pulled pranks with that lopsided grin.
She was fast. She was clever. And more than anything, she was free.
De'rax stood near the central command pillar with his arms crossed, watching the monitor that followed his daughter's movement. A soft growl rumbled in his chest, but his eyes gleamed with pride.
"She's gotten too good at escaping," he muttered.
You appeared beside him with a chuckle, brushing your fingers over the bond mark on his wrist before resting your hand on his arm. "She's got your instincts."
He snorted. "She's got your attitude."
Before you could respond, the air in the command room shifted. Silver Lining's voice came through, sharper than usual.
"Warning: Multiple vessels approaching. Unknown transponders. Armaments detected. Estimated time to contact: 16 minutes."
The laughter across Haven fell silent.
You and De'rax exchanged a look—and in that instant, the bond between you flared. Years of calm vanished. The storm had arrived.
"Silver Lining," you said, voice hardening. "Are they broadcasting?"
"No. They are running dark. Power signatures match several known slave raider fleets. Triangulated source suggests connection to Grib's former alliances."
De'rax's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous gold hue. "They've found us."
"Battle stations?" Silver Lining asked.
You took a breath—steady, deep—and nodded.
"Raise the shields. Sound the alert. Wake the wolves."
Elsewhere in Haven
Alessa had frozen halfway through the tunnel. She felt the shift in the air before the alarm even sounded.
Then came the pulsing red lights. The alert siren—short, deliberate tones that hadn't been heard since the early years.
She turned toward it, expression darkening. She wasn't just some curious child anymore.
She was your daughter.
And she knew.