FSE

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Cracking my eyes open, I am greeted by a brilliant white light, my eyes shutting tight once more as I let out a groan. Rubbing my face to get the last vestiges of sleep from my mind, I push myself up, eyes adjusting to the brightness in the room. I haven't slept that well in ages, my body no longer full of aches or pains. In fact, I felt great, my mind clearer than ever.

I was sitting in a bed, white sheets covering my lower half while white walls surrounded me on all sides, planet life breaking up the dull monotonous color and providing a change of scenery and a sense of serenity.

In each corner of the room were smaller versions of the security turrets like in the courtyard. They watched me intently, swiveling on their little metal arms anytime I so much as shifted.

I do a double take as I notice a window off to my right, a lush forest visible outside, sunlight breaking through the treetops and illuminating the ground with golden rays of light.

Confused at what I am seeing, because I knew I was still on a space station, I look closer, only to realize it was a display screen, a monitor embedded into the wall to simulate a natural forest. The only thing that broke the illusion of where I am, being the whitewashed walls, medical equipment, and large glass cylinder next to my bed.

The cylinder was easily large enough to hold a fully-grown man, perhaps even an overly tall Venmar. A transparent blue liquid with the consistency of gel contained behind the glass. Tubes and wires connecting the container to the walls and ceiling.

Turning my attention to the left, I find a device beeping ever so softly monitoring several of my vitals, heart rate, blood flow, brain activity, and even breathing. Next to the machine was an IV bag full of red liquid, a tube trailing from it to my wrist.

I look away quickly, trying not to think of the needle currently jammed into my vein. Had I really lost so much blood that they needed to put me on an IV? Furthermore, where did they get the blood type I needed? Only Venmar shared similar blood types to—Oh right, I'm a Hybrid. It is a bit surprising how easy I forget that.

At last my attention is drawn to what I'm wearing, a white medical gown with bandages wrapped around my chest and neck. Only now did it really start to sink in that last night had occurred and that it wasn't all just a bad dream. Had it not been for Nala and everyone else… well… I'd rather not think about what might have happened.

The cool metal and soft padding of the suppressant collar around my neck was oddly comforting, but for some reason I could not feel the effects of it. My mind is clear and calm, like I had just been released from a pair of shackles.

I try to activate my neural implant and am reward by a flicker of red static, my heads-up display appearing then disappearing as quickly as it came. Something was not right here, something that I could possible use to my advantage.

I try it again, booting up my implant in safe-mode. The results were almost instant, a red hued heads-up display appearing before my eyes. It was lacking in more advanced options, safe-mode booting up the implant with the most minimum settings it could manage. Loading the most basic drivers and bare essentials to function.

At least I had access to my scanner, cracker, and relay. Activating my scanner, I analyze the suppressant collar, a 3D diagram of it appearing before my eyes. Green dots with pointers hovered over the diagram, showing the parts of the collar that seemed to be functioning correctly, however, there were a couple of red dots, showing that the collar had sustained damage and needed repair.

Most of the damage was superficial, nothing more than scratch marks and chipped metal, most likely from Numa's assault. However, I noticed one of the warning dots pointing to an internal component, a power source I think, most likely a battery.

The battery looked to have been knocked out of its housing, leaving the collar to run on only one of the two power sources that it contained. Several functions had been disabled to make up for the lack of power and resources the collar's small processor needed in order to keep the piece of tech operational.

Either this was an act of God or I am just extremely lucky, whatever the case, this new development could have its uses. A pity that most of my implant's functions are still disabled, but I'll just have to make do with what I've got.

Knowing I had access, though extremely limited, to my implants brought me a great sense of joy, and I just had an itch to test out my wrist computer to see if it worked as well. I paused though, glancing up at the security turrets in the corners of the room. Using my wrist computer now would be a horrible idea if it worked, because unlike my neural interface, which only I could see, my wrist computer brought up a holographic display around my arm that was visible to all.

Soft footsteps catch my attention and I look up just in time to see the sliding door to the room open with a whoosh and an Asta, no bigger than myself, enter. She wore a white jumpsuit with red crosses printed on each shoulder and a grey, honeycomb-patterned hexagon on her chest. A white belt was cinched around her waist, and clipped to it were several glass vials containing liquids of varying colors.

Her skin tone was much the same as any Asta, tan and teal, though her colors seemed a bit more muted. Her head was down, examining the data-pad she held in one of her four hands, muttering to herself as she slowly walked in.

“Six Venmar, a Kilnoid, three Skals, and two Silistains. Can these idiots give it a rest for once with their little faction war! I swear if I hadn't sworn an oath to do no harm I would go out there and beat their asses for piling even more work on me!" She muttered swiping at the data-pad, “Now who's next on my list… Ah, yes, the hybrid." She finally looks up, all four of her blue eyes fixed on me. “Alright dear, how are you feeling?"

“Uh… I'm doing… great actually," I say, mulling it over for a moment, “Surprisingly nothing hurts either."

“That's most likely due to the painkillers; they'll be wearing off in an hour or two." Her fingers tap away at the data-pad as she spoke. “Now then, your body is still recovering from whatever spat you had, so you'll have to stay here for a few days."

“How long was I out? I feel like I've been asleep for days and could run a marathon."

“You've only been asleep for about six hours now. The most probable cause of all this energy is the EH-Tank," she explained, gesturing towards the large container of blue liquid.

I blink at her, unsure as to what an 'EH-Tank' was. Noticing my confusion, she continued.

“An EH-Tank or, Enhanced Healing Tank, is a relatively new discovery. Artemis station is the current testing grounds for this new medical equipment due to the prison's high injury rate and collection of multiple species."

“Does it actually increase the pace at which you heal?" Research into enhanced healing is a new endeavor the A.U.S, Alliance of United Systems, had recently dove into after discovering the Asta's planet, the world extremely abundant in natural resources.

“Indeed, the gel contained inside is called gloraseel. It is a natural liquid found on my home planet, Agoria. Not only does it have increased healing properties, but it also makes for an excellent insulator! So far testing has shown extremely positive results!"

Interesting, who knew that enhanced healing was ever going to be a thing? I personally thought it would remain in the realm of fiction. Ah, the power of technology, one of the many reasons I love it so much!

“Now then, let's get you out of that gown so I can clean those wounds and replace the bandages." She helped me remove the white garment, resting it on the foot of the bed before removing my suppressant collar with the swipe of a keycard. Luckily I was wearing a pair of white boxer shorts underneath the gown, otherwise I would have been stark naked.

Just because the collar had been removed, did not mean its suppressing effects disappeared, the collar using a wireless signal to connect to my implant and prevent it from functioning. The reason suppressant collars had been designed to go around the neck is because it was a central point to the body, allowing the collar to have a strong connection to any implant anywhere on the person. It also made them that much harder to remove. No one wants to try to cut through metal when said piece of metal was resting on your throat.

The doctor donned a pair of gloves on each one of her four hands, her thin tail shooting out and wrapping around a metal handle that stuck out of the wall. She pulled on it, a metal tray lined with medical instruments sliding out.

She grabbed a sponge and small container of antiseptics from a lower tray, resting them on the top for ease of access. Picking up a pair of scissors, she quickly and efficiently cut through the blood soaked bandages around my chest and neck, setting them aside to be disposed of later.

I had not realized how bad the injuries I had sustained were, deep cuts from claws leaving my flesh ripped open, thankfully the more serious ones where being held shut by adhesive stiches. I'm glad they pumped me full of painkillers, because, while the pain was not gone all together, it was much more tolerable.

She was gentle when tending to my wounds, softly dabbing at them with a sponge soaked in antiseptics. She chattered on while she worked, talking my ear off about enhanced healing and the recent advancements in medicine. I happily listened to her, her voice gentle yet excited and full of energy.

“Right then," she said, securing the last bandage into place, “Only thing left now is a shot and then you can get some rest."

She picked up what looked like a small, plastic toy gun from the tray, the same thing Artemis had used to apply the numbing agent.

The device was small and curved, red stripes running down the barrel with a red cross located on the base of the grip.

The Doctor grabs a vial of green liquid from her belt and slots it into the top of the syringe gun. Pressing it against my shoulder, she squeezes the trigger, a warm sensation sprouting from the entrance point but quickly fading. She pops the now-empty vial out of the gun and tosses it away, then sets the device back on the tray.

“There, all done," she says.

She helps me redress quickly before placing the collar back around my neck.

"Now you lay back and get some rest, I will be back in a few hours with something to eat. Your body is malnourished and you need something in your stomach if you're going to recover anytime soon."

I nod and lay back, resting my head on the pillow. I had felt energized when I woke up, like I could run a marathon and not tire, but now I felt drained, the brief appointment with the doctor sapping all the energy from my body.

I drift in and out of sleep for the next hour or so, the background noise of the softly beeping monitoring device and the distant chatter of voices and rustling of activity a comforting sound. It reminded me of when I used to live with my cousin, the sound of the bustling metropolitan city right outside our apartment window.

Amelia had told me once that she tried to move out to the country, but within a week, she was missing the familiar noise of the city and returned. It was not for everyone, the loud noises and hypnotic buzz of vehicles, the constant activity and feeling the city never sleeps. But we liked it, it was familiar, it was home.

Sometimes in the winter, a blanket of snow would cover the city, and Amelia and I would huddle together under a blanket, hot cocoa in hand, watching the snowfall through the window.

I loved snow, but I hated the cold. Whenever we went out during the chillier seasons I would bundle up with as many coats as I could, Amelia joking about having to roll me around everywhere with the number of layers I had on.

I missed her more than anything, and I regret not taking her offer of funding me through college. If I had accepted I would probably still be on earth. It has been four years now, I would have graduated this year, top of my class to I bet. I could see this fantasy in my mind's eye so clearly, me up on stage clutching my diploma, Amelia beaming up at me from the gathered crowd of student family members. Amelia and I would then go out to our favorite dinner to celebrate, the old man who owned it like a grandpa to me.

Here I was though, imprisoned on a space station thousands of light-years away. I wonder how she felt after discovering I was gone, what went through her mind when her cousin showed up years later on TV, the trial of the captured R.O.F members airing live for the world to see. Did she even watch it? Did she even know her cousin, the kid she raised as her own son, is considered a terrorist?

I hope not. I hope she never learns what happened, that she believes me dead so she can move on with her life. She doesn't need me ruining things for her. She doesn't deserve that.

***

The smell of food rouses me from my sleep, my stomach grumbling and cramping up as it craves for something to digest.

“Ngh..." I groan, shifting around as my body wakes up, the soreness in my muscles and the dull ache from my wounds causing a great amount of discomfort. There was a pounding in my head now, as if someone was smashing a hammer against it to try to ring it like a gong.

“Seems the painkillers have worn off," said the same Asta from before as she sidled into the room. She carried a tray in her lower set of arms, steam rising from a bowl that contained a tan, creamy substance. A glass of that same blue opaque liquid from the previous morning was also on the tray, and next to that was a small plastic cup with a few pills in them. Trying to sit up, a hiss of pain escapes me and I fall back to the bed.

“Don't try to sit up if it causes you pain, there's a reason the beds can do this." She tapped something with her foot and part of the bed started to rise gently, pushing me into a sitting position without me having to move. Another tap of her foot caused a panel on the side of the bed to pop open and swivel over my lap, providing a small table for her to place the tray on.

“Here, take these," she said, handing me the small plastic cup of pills. I didn't question it, seizing the cup and downing the pills with some help from the blue milk as I have now started calling it. “Those should take effect in a few minutes, till then try to eat a little bit."

“What is that anyways?" I croak, eyeing the tan substance with wariness and savage hunger. It smelled good, like cinnamon and sugar mixed together to make a sweet fragrance. However, I learned a long time ago that even things that smell delicious did not always turn out to taste the same. That beetle-rat still haunts my taste buds.

“It's sweet-cream, I hear it is similar to a grain-based breakfast food you humans have on earth. It should be easy to consume but be careful, it's hot."

I pick up the spoon that lay next to the bowl and dip it into the sweet-cream. It was thick and, well, creamy. It smelled divine, the look of it was far from repulsive, and the fact that it was hot made it so much better. I scooped up a spoonful, bringing it to my mouth and blowing on it to cool it down. I hesitated for a moment but then mentally shrugged and popped the spoon into my mouth.

“Mmm!" I moan, the sweet-cream hitting my tongue and assaulting it with flavors I had not tasted in a long time. It was definitely sweet, an underlying layer of cinnamon and vanilla keeping it balanced. It was good, really good! Even if it wasn't, I was too hungry to care. After a few more spoons of the deliciously addictive sweet-cream, the ache in my stomach started to subside and a warm satisfaction washed over me.

It had only been about five minutes, but I could already feel the painkillers taking effect, the pounding in my head and the ache of my body slowly subsiding. While I ate, the doctor busied herself with checking the machines and replacing the near-empty IV bag with a fresh one.

“Did I really lose so much blood I need an IV?" I ask, pausing my meal to look at her.

“I'm afraid so," she responded, continuing to examine the machine's readouts, tapping away at her data-pad, “You were deathly pale when that Skal brought you in. It's only thanks to your Hybrid genetics that you are alive, otherwise we wouldn't have any blood to replace yours with."

She finishes replace the IV and fturns around, a soft smile decorating her face. It was a little strange looking, the bottom lip curved up but the flat beak of her upper lip remaining unmoved.

“I've never had the chance to study a Hybrid before, and with the scans of your body we took, every medical physician on the station is fascinated by what we've discovered!" Her tone was surprisingly chipper and excited.

“Huh?" I breath, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow.

“Your body makeup is absolutely fascinating and mind-boggling all at the same time!" Squealed the Asta, bringing up a diagram of my skeletal structure, muscles, and organs, on her data-pad. “You see, your external appearance, unlike most other recorded Hybrids, looks completely human! Well, asides from the little bit of fur on your back. However, on the inside, you are completely different! Somehow, nature has given you both human and Venmar organs!"

“So… What does that mean?" I ask, still confused.

“It means that somehow, and we aren't quite sure yet as to how this is possible, your body can use human and Venmar blood interchangeably! Another amazing thing is this." She points to the leg muscles on the diagram. I'm not well versed enough in biology to really see anything of importance, but the Asta was clearly excited.

“The muscles in your legs are much stronger and far denser than a normal human, allowing you to run at greater speeds and much farther distances before tiring! Of course, due to your time in stasis, your muscles have been severely weakened. It will take at least a few days or weeks for them to fully heal on their own, however, if you are able to do some light leg workouts than the healing process will be quickened."

“So, does that mean I could run as fast as a Venmar?" I ask looking at the doctor excitedly. I had always thought myself un-unique, that I had never inherited anything from my mother. Apparently, I had, just not on the surface. Not until recently that is.

“Hmm…" she rubs her chin in thought, studying the diagram, “I can't say for sure, but it doesn't look… impossible."

I had never bothered to learn about Venmar or even my own species, which I did not even know was classified as its own species until the doctor and I got to talking more about Hybrids!

Later I learned that the name of the doctor was, Bel Fortis, a young and excitable Asta who has worked on the Artemis station for the past several years. She sat with me for the next couple of hours, explaining more about Hybrids and my own anatomy.

Turns out, the reason my hair is so soft is because of the way it grows. The length and pattern like that of human hair, yet the density and amount of strands being closer to that of fur, giving it that soft silky feeling.

For the longest time I figured I had only inherited my father's genes, my hair previously black and my eyes grey, just like his. My mother had a coat of snow-white fur and two piercing blue eyes, yet I could never find any similarities between us. I most certainly did not inherit her height.

When I had informed Bel about how I had underwent a change during stasis to the white-haired, heterochromatic-eyed, Hybrid I am now, she had said, “You are not done evolving!"

She theorized that the genes of my Venmar mother lie dormant and will appear as I get older, my hair changing to white, for example, is due to my mother's genes becoming activated and overwriting my father's. Bel's theory is that once I reach the age of maturity for Venmar, which is around 22 to 23 years of age, most of, if not all, the dormant genes my mother had passed on to me would become activated.

Our conversation drew on for a long time and I could feel my body becoming exhausted once again. I tried to insist I was fine, not wanting our conversation to end, but Bel ordered me to get some rest, taking the tray and lowering the bed back down. She was right though, because as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

Artemis station is not like any other prison I've been to. It was nice, like one of those gated communities where it had everything you could ever need and you would never have to leave. A place where you would be content to stay.

Perhaps that is the whole purpose of Artemis station, to be nice enough that no one would want to break out. At first glance, the security seemed lack luster, even if every wall was lined with turrets that could change positions at moment's notice. However, if you looked closer, you will see that things are far more monitored than they would appear.

Artemis controlled everything, every single prisoner was tracked, every door monitored, every word spoken recorded, every minute movement put on file. She was able to see everything; even when there were no security turrets around. The room I first met her in proves as much. There was nothing in their but blank walls and yet she was still able to see and hear me.

Now that I have somewhat limited access to my implants, I wonder if the plausibility of escape has increased? It would be difficulty, very difficult, but it might be possible. A.I, however, are not to be trifled with, Artemis especially. They were good at things like this, probably why Artemis is in control of the space station to begin with. An A.I that can evolve and adapt and is specifically made to keep prisoners contained. Going up against something like that is a death wish.

***

It has already been a couple of days now, and most of the cuts and bruises have already healed. Bel chalking up my swift recovery to the EH-Tank. She came in today with another tray of food, a mystery meat sandwich, and small bowel of chopped up oro-oro fruit, along with another glass of that blue milk. I'm sure the meat is something along the lines of ham, maybe turkey, but it was as Nala had said, the cloned food lacking a certain something that really brought it to life.

“You have a visitor by the way, should I let them in?" Asked Bel, as she finished typing up a report on her data-pad. Bel seemed to enjoy spending time with me, always making sure she had a spare few minutes to spend in my company. Sitting in the guest chair in the corner and typing out her reports for the day or continuing our conversation on Hybrid genetics.

“Who is it?" I mumble through a mouthful of food. I am already starting to feel much better, my mind clearer than it has ever been and my body no longer aching.

“It's a Venmar, goes by the name Korza." She tapped at her data-pad, humming in concern as she looked at what I guess to be Korza's file. “Lots of unknowns with her, a complete mystery to be honest."

“Korza? Yeah, let her in please," I nod. I suspected it might have been Nala or even Reyna, but Korza? That was interesting. Though I am slightly disappointed Nala hasn't even bothered to check in on me.

“Alright, Jay, I'll let her in," she said, using the new nickname she had decided to start calling me. It was strange the way Bel acted, she was so nice to me, treating me like a normal person even though I was a prisoner. She must have viewed my file before; surely she knows what I am in here for.

“Hey, Bel…" I ask timidly, my eyes downcast and hands messing with each other.

“Hmm?" she hums, not looking up from her data-pad. That thing seemed to be glued to her at all times; I have not once seen her without it.

“Why… Why are you nice to me? I am a prisoner here and yet you treat me like a normal person… You've seen my file, haven't you?"

She paused in what she was doing, looking up at me with a sad smile on her face. “Jason, just because you've done some bad stuff in your past and have made some mistakes doesn't mean you are less of a person. You are being punished already, stuck in this place for the rest of your life, never allowed to see your loved ones or the outside world ever again. I don't think I need to add to that."

“But what about—“

She raised her hand, cutting me off midsentence, “Before you ask, yes, I have seen your file, and compared to some of the things I've seen, you are a downright saint. Look, Jay, I am a doctor, a medical physician, my job is to treat those who are injured equally and without prejudice. If I judged every person I treated based on their past, what kind of doctor would I be?"

I had no answer for that, her words relieving a weight from my shoulders I had no idea I had been carrying. My face felt flushed and I could swear tears were pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I pulled myself together quickly. I had met some of the nicest people in some of the worst places, and this was no exception.

“Now then, why don't I go let your friend in and you two can discuss whatever it is you need to." She smiled standing up from the chair. I nod in confirmation, rubbing my eyes to wipe away the tears that were forming.

A few moments later, the door opened and in walked the familiar black fur and green eyes of Korza. She looked at me, the expression on her face neutral like always. She looked over to the chair in the corner and walked over to it, grabbing the back of it and dragging it over to be closer to the bed. I cringe as the metal feet scrape against the floor, the ear-piercing sound dying after just a few seconds.

“How are you doing," asked Korza, her voice airy and barely more than a whisper. She sank down into the chair with a groan, audible cracks coming from her as she stretched her back.

“I'm alright, but what about you? You look like shit," I respond. She looked haggard, overworked, bags clearly visible under her piercing green eyes. For the first time, I witnessed Korza smile, a true real smile as she let out a soft bark of laughter.

“I'm not the one in the infirmary, now am I?"

“Well, technically…" I trail off, gesturing around at the room, a smirk coming to my face, “You are." Korza chuckled softly at that.

“I am glad you are doing well, the Mistress will hopefully cheer up with this news."

I look at her questioningly, “Is something wrong with Nala?"

“Not necessarily, she has been rather bogged down by a ton of work, trying to keep her temper in check while dealing with Green and the fallout from the… shower incident."

“What's going on out there anyways?"

“Same as usual I suppose," She shrugged, “Just more fighting and arguing. After what happened the other day, Mistress has all but denied that council meeting the others oh so desperately wanted. Of course, that didn't go down well, Green complaining on and on about procedure and agreements. The bug also claimed she had nothing to do with Numa's actions." At the last part, Korza looked at me with her brow raised, clearly wanting to know if that was true or not.

“Green most certainly had a hand in it!" I exclaim, clenching the bedsheets so tight my knuckles start to turn white. “She sent Numa to find me and give me a message! What came after though I'm not so sure was Green's doing. Numa seemed to act on her own rather than following any orders to actually hurt me."

Korza sat up straight, much more invested in our conversation now. “A message? What kind of message?"

Realizing what I had just revealed gave me pause, trying to think about what to do next. I hardly knew Korza as a person, but she seemed loyal to Nala nonetheless. However, I wasn't comfortable telling her about something so important. Nor with other people watching in on this, I think, glancing over to one of the cameras.

“I'll tell everyone what happened later, right now there are too many ears listening," I whisper.

“I see…" she responds glancing at the cameras as well. She lacked the need to whisper, her natural volume just as quite.

Korza quickly changes the subject saying, “The Mistress, even though she tries to hide it, is absolutely enraged at what happened. Blaming herself as the reason you got hurt, thinking she didn't do enough to protect you."

Grateful for the quick subject change, I respond, “It's not her fault at all, if anything I'm the one who should have been more careful. Is she always like this, being clingy and overprotective?"

Korza shakes her head, responding, “It is just you. While she is very protective of all her underlings, the type of overprotectiveness and affection she shows you is something new. I believe she is rather infatuated with you for one reason or another, what those reasons are, I cannot say."

“Great, just my luck to have caught the eye of probably the most dangerous person in the galaxy. The worst part is I don't even know what I did!" I flop back down on my bed, rubbing my face and groaning.

“It is rather difficult for one to catch the eye of the Mistress as… thoroughly as you have," she smirked, crossing her legs and resting an elbow on one of the armrests.

“Yeah, well… If I'm going to essentially be the prized possession of an overly affectionate clingy dragon, I think I deserve to know a little bit more about her, don't you think?" I look at Korza hopefully, wanting her to tell me anything she can about the Skal I may or may not have a small crush on.

Korza's usually neutral expression twitched up into a slight smile, barely visible, but there if you looked for it. “I suppose I could tell you a few things, but mind you I don't know a lot myself, I only met her a few years ago when I first came to Artemis."

Korza and I talked for many hours, Bel having to come in, this time with an armed guard, to make sure I ate. The Venmar informed me about everything she knew of Nala, the Skal having been imprisoned for 12 years, Korza only meeting her six years ago when she first came to the Artemis station.

She revealed to me that Nala was a crime lord, the leader of a drug cartel by the name of the Rising Sun. That's why her last name, Vertikal, sounded so familiar. The Rising Sun were a huge crime syndicate, so large in fact that they practically had their own army, and it was no secret that it had been run by the Vertikal family for many generations.

I can't deny that the things Korza told me Nala has done, caused me a bit of unease. Murder, blackmail, smuggling, extortion and that wasn't even all of it, the list so long and complicated that it would have taken a while to get through it. Of course, I shook that unease off quickly, not thinking it fair that I judge Nala on what she has done when my crimes could be argued to be just as bad.

One thing Korza did mention though, was that Nala absolutely despises the very thought of trafficking and selling sentient life. She said it was one of the reasons Nala hated Mistress Green so much, the bug having done exactly that.

What blew my mind, however, was the fact that Nala is over a hundred years old! I knew Skals lived for a long time, but Nala looked so young, older than me, yes, but much younger than I would expect of someone who is 102. Korza did inform me though that Nala's age was actually somewhere around her early thirties in human terms, which brought a wave of relief to me.

We are lucky that most races have a similar calendar to that of Earth, their years almost the same length as ours. Give or take a few weeks here or there. And while this was beneficial in more ways than one, it did make the recording and understanding of age between species much easier. However, this did not apply to Skals or Sivecs.

A Skal of Nala's age is considered to be in their early thirties, their planet rotating slower and adding three extra months to their year. Sivecs on the other hand mature much faster than any other race, and have two fewer months in their year. It took a while for the galactic community to get used to the way Sivecs aged. For example, a Sivec at the age of 16 –an age that most races consider juvenile- is actually fully grown, their human age equivalent to that of a 26-year-old.

While Korza did tell me things about Nala, they were only little bits of information, the wolf not knowing the full story behind Nala's claim to infamy. They were small details, things that one might overlook but still held quite a bit of information about her.

Her favorite color is gold, something that is quite obvious with the amount of gold jewelry she wears. Just like any Skal, Nala enjoys fruits far more than most other dishes, of course that has not to say she dislikes other foods, just that her taste leans more towards the sweet and juice side of things. She is loyal to her subordinates and cares about them. And when she sets her sights on something, there is nothing that can stop her from obtaining it.

“Alright, I think you're visitation has gone on long enough, I must ask you kindly to leave so that my patient might get some rest," Bel announces, marching into the room with her hands on her hips and looking at us like a mother might look at her misbehaving children..

“Has it really been that long?" I ask perplexed.

“You two have been chatting it up since this morning! You missed diner, the painkillers in your body are about to run out, and I still need to look at your wounds to see how well they are healing!"

“I had no idea we were talking for so long," I chuckle.

“Hmm, the doctor is right, I should get going, the Mistress is probably wondering where I am," hummed Numa, standing up from the chair and stretching out her limbs.

“You mean Nala doesn't even know you're here?"

“I wanted to surprise her with some good news, but it seems time has gotten the better of me. Goodnight, Jason." With a swish of her tail, she brushed past Bel and out the door, a couple of heavily armed and armored Kilnoid guards escorting her out of the infirmary.

“Alright, now that she's gone, strip!" commanded Bel. I roll my eyes, a slight blush coming to my face at the way she said it. I do as she says though, scooting to the edge of the bed and removing the white medical gown once more.

“Jeez, Bel, don't say it like that, it sounds weird!" I complain. I have grown used to Bel seeing me in my underclothes, not like I had much of a choice anyways, and while it was still horribly embarrassing, she never said anything about it, always remaining professional. Until now that is.

“Well you kept me waiting all day with how long you two were in here chatting away, I think you can deal with a little bit of unprofessionalism!" she said in mock irritation, an exasperated smile donning her features.

After removing my gown, Bel gently unwraps the bandages from my body, being careful to make sure she did not irritate any of the cuts that were still healing.

“Well then, it seems you're healing up nicely," she mused. I felt her fingers on the back of my neck, gentle yet exploring.

“The EH-Tanks has proved to be beneficial to every species, increasing the body's healing factor by double," she explained, the familiar tapping sound of fingers against glass floating over my shoulder as she entered something into her data-pad. “If we had left you in the tank then these lacerations might have healed in about a day, but the few hours you spent submerged in gloraseel do seem to be helping quite a bit."

“If I could have healed faster in the tank, why did you guys take me out?"

“It's a simple procedure, short-time exposure to the enhanced healing effect of gloraseel. Remember, we are still in a testing phase; we do not want to leave someone in there for an extended period unless we know they can handle it. We have completed almost all the tests on every other species, the only one we have been lacking in being humans. You, while not technically human, are the closest we have to one."

“I see, but if you were lacking in… test subjects, why not have the prison allow humans?"

“It's not that we don't allow humans, it's just that Artemis station is too far out of the way. Most humans stay around the core worlds, and thus are imprisoned in the core worlds. And those farther out are usually quick witted enough to stay ahead of the law, or end up going down with their ships."

“Has there ever been a human prisoner before?"

“Oh there has been, a few a long time ago around when the station was first built, long before I began working here."

“Has anyone ever broken out before?"

“Yes, actually. She was a Venmar, and she was the first and only person to every breakout of Artemis. If memory serves correctly, she was a pirate that went by the name Star-Killer."

“Why was her name Star-Killer and what happened to her!" I was almost bouncing in excitement, Bel having to keep a hand on my shoulder to keep me steady as she reapplied my bandages. For my entire life, I have always loved stories about pirates, sailing through the stars or on the high seas, doing what they want and not letting anyone tell them what to do!

Bel laughed softly, “She was called Star-Killer because of the way she got rid of ships to destroy evidence of her pillaging. She would set the vessels auto-pilot to steer the craft into a star. Some say she had accidently destroyed a star by doing this and created a black hole, though of course that is just a myth as it is impossible to accomplish something like that."

“And what happened to her after she broke out?"

“No one knows, after her great escape she disappeared. Her ship, The Malevolence, soon joining her, the vessel seemingly disappearing from dry dock on the Alliance's main space station at the time."

I had never been so engrossed into a story as this one, it made me want more, to know what really happened! And the fact that this was real and not fiction made it all the more sweet!

“Some say she stole a ship and flew off into deep space," Bel continued, “Others believe she returned to pirating under a different name. There is one more ending to the story that I personally believe is the correct one, know what it is?"

“What?" I reply with bated breath, Bel finishing wrapping the last bandages around my chest.

“The last ending to the story says that she went into hiding, changing her name and her ways, settling down on one of the core planets."

“That was a nice ending," I hum, wondering if maybe Nala or even Korza know about that story. If this Star-Killer person was able to escape, then perhaps I can too! I wonder if there is a version of the story that tells you how they did it? Hmm… Perhaps a thing to look into another day.

“Anyways! You are healing up nicely and I believe you will be able to leave tomorrow morning!" She chirped, tapping on her data-pad.

“Really? So soon?"

“Mhm, though I would recommend keeping the bandages on for a few more days. Now, the only thing left to do is give you a shot of painkillers, and then you better get some rest!"

“Another shot, seriously? Can't you just give me some of the pills?" I groan.

“Oh stop being a baby, Jason!" She said, grabbing the metal handle sticking out the wall and pulling out the tray lined with medical instruments, “It's not like it hurts! And It'll be much quicker than me running off to find some pills." She grabs the syringe gun out of the lineup of tools, most of which I had no idea to what their uses would be.

She loads it up once again, this time with a purple vial of liquid, and before I can say anything, she presses it against my arm and fires, the dosage of painkillers shooting through my skin and into my body. She pops the glass vial out of its chamber and tosses it away in the decontamination bin, a small trashcan-shaped device that started whirring once the vial disappeared inside it.

“There, all done, now go to sleep or I'll shoot you full of tranquilizers as well," she said threateningly. Her lower set of arms braced against her hips as she waved the syringe gun around menacingly.

“I thought you swore an oath to 'do no harm,'" I poked, a smirk coming to my face as Bel glared at me.

“It's not counted as harm if what I do is for the sake of the patient," she countered, a smile of victory spreading across her face.

I just huff in defeat and lay down, Bel patting my head condescendingly before leaving the room and switching off the lights. Truth be told, Bel was right, like always. I did need sleep; I was absolutely exhausted, all my mental energy expanded. I hope that tomorrow will be better than the past few days, but with everything Korza informed me about, I highly doubt it. Oh well, I'll get through it, like I always have.