The quiet hum of the Aethelgardian sanctuary in the Seraphina Drift was a universe away from the sterile confines of the labs, from the cacophony of the rough-and-tumble spaceports where his life with Eva had truly begun.
Bolt lay on a bio-luminescent moss bed that gently conformed to his transformed, humanoid shape.
Eva was resting nearby, the Aethelgardians having insisted on continued observation of her injury, though she was clearly impatient.
Elara and the others had been respectful, even awed by his story and Eva's, but their questions had stirred up a cascade of memories within him, echoes of a past that felt both impossibly distant and vividly immediate.
A lab rat. A secret forged in the cold labs of distant Earth.
The term, which he'd once heard spat with disdain by a disgruntled technician, still carried a faint sting, even now, even in this powerful new form.
He hadn't been born in the way Aethelgardians celebrated life during their Harmony Bloom; he'd been… assembled. A jumble of canine DNA, experimental neuro-enhancements, and something else, something the human scientists hadn't understood – the Ahna'sara, the Seed of Hope, an accidental jackpot in their fumbling attempts to create… well, he was never entirely sure what their ultimate goal had been.
He'd been an anomaly, a success beyond their wildest calculations in terms of intellect and speech, and a terrifying puzzle once his full sentience became undeniable.
Escape from that Earth facility had been less a heroic dash and more a bewildered, desperate flight. He remembered fleeting images: the chaos of a containment breach, alarms wailing, then the terrifying disorientation of a less-than-reputable cargo hauler's hold, a journey through indifferent stars he hadn't chosen.
He'd eventually found himself a terrified, hunted stray, light-years from his origin, navigating the perilous underbellies of one gritty spaceport after another.
Then came Eva Rostova, Captain of the battered but beloved freighter, the Wanderlust – a Terran, through and through, as resilient and resourceful as the frontier world of Terra that had birt हम her. She hadn't been looking for a partner, and certainly not one with four paws and a tendency to quote obscure pre-spaceflight Earth philosophers he'd devoured from data chips during his confinement.
He'd been hiding in the docking bay of Port Calliope, a notorious hub on Terra for smugglers and worse, trying to pilfer some discarded ration bars, his ability to speak a jealously guarded secret.
Eva had been in trouble. Deep trouble. He remembered it vividly: the sneering face of Port Authority Officer Kreller, a petty tyrant notorious for shaking down independent captains.
Kreller had impounded the Wanderlust on some trumped-up charge, demanding an exorbitant "release fee." Eva, proud and fiery, had refused, and Kreller had her confined to her ship, threatening to auction off her cargo.
Bolt, watching from the shadows of a maintenance conduit, had felt an unfamiliar pang. Not just sympathy, but a spark of something else – indignation.
He'd heard the injustice in Kreller's voice, seen the desperation in Eva's. He'd spent weeks then just… listening. Observing. Learning the rhythms of the port.
He hadn't planned to intervene. But when he overheard Kreller boasting to a crony about a shipment of illicitly acquired pre-Federation artifacts hidden in his own office, artifacts that would bring down far more heat on Kreller than Eva's minor alleged infraction ever could, an idea sparked.
Still hiding his ability to speak, Bolt had created a "diversion." A series of carefully orchestrated "accidents" drew Kreller and most of his goons away.
Then, using a discarded datachip, Bolt had anonymously tipped off the sector's Internal Affairs division, providing just enough detail about Kreller's hidden stash.
He'd watched from afar as IA agents swarmed Kreller's office. Eva, amidst the chaos, had found her impoundment order mysteriously voided.
She never knew who her anonymous benefactor was that day, not for a long time. She'd just seen a particularly intelligent-looking stray husky slinking away and, on an impulse born of gratitude, had offered him a piece of her own ration bar and a quiet place to rest on her ship for a few nights.
A few nights had turned into weeks. He'd initially kept his secret, content to be a silent, unusually perceptive mascot. But Eva wasn't foolish.
She saw the profound intelligence in his eyes, the way he seemed to understand complex conversations, the uncanny knack he had for alerting her to trouble.
The reveal had been clumsy, almost accidental, during a tense standoff with some jumpy cargo inspectors.
Bolt, seeing Eva about to be framed, had simply growled, "They're lying. Check the manifest discrepancies for docking bay seven. One of them smells like he recently handled refined Nova-crystals."
The stunned silence that followed had been deafening. Then came the disbelief, the fear, and finally, for Eva, a slow, dawning understanding and a reluctant, amazed acceptance.
From there, a partnership had been forged. "Patrolling," as he'd once mentally termed their early work together on Terra and nearby systems, was perhaps too grand a word.
It was more like… problem-solving on the fringes. Eva, with her ship and her contacts, and Bolt, with his extraordinary senses, his intellect, and the sheer shock value of a talking dog who could outthink most grifters, took on odd jobs.
They located missing cargo, exposed petty corruptions, navigated dangerous trade routes. She was the captain; he was her… unique first mate.
The vast galactic conflicts, the Progenitors, the Ahna'sara – those were still just unfathomable myths from distant stars.
He looked around the serene Aethelgardian chamber. From a lab rat on Earth, to a stray on Port Calliope, Terra, to a partner on the Wanderlust, and now… a Seed-Bearer, a transformed being in this hidden sanctuary, entrusted with a mission that could decide the fate of the galaxy.
Eva, the resourceful Terran captain, was right here with him, facing down cosmic horrors.
The journey had been improbable, impossible even. Yet, here they were. The starlight that had guided their battered freighter through Terran trade routes was now the same starlight that illuminated ancient Progenitor mysteries. And the bond forged between an escaped Earth experiment and a tenacious Terran captain, it seemed, was strong enough to face even the echo of war.
A soft chime resonated through his chamber. Elara. It was time, perhaps, for the next lesson, the next step on this unbelievable path.
He rose, the memories settling within him not as a burden, but as the anchor of who he was, and who he was becoming alongside his captain from Terra.