A soft chime echoed through your quarters—Silver Lining's gentle morning wakeup.
De'rax stirred behind you, his arm tightening briefly around your waist before loosening with a low, contented growl. You turned in his embrace, brushing a kiss to his cheek.
"Morning," you whispered.
"Already?" he rumbled groggily, voice still thick with sleep. "Was just getting comfortable."
You chuckled, sitting up and stretching, feeling the faint, fluttering movement low in your belly. The pup.
A smile touched your lips.
"Medbay," you reminded him gently. "We promised the doctors."
He groaned, then relented, standing and offering you his hand. "Fine. But only if we stop for food after."
"Deal."
The medbay was quiet as usual—clean, softly lit, filled with low humming machines and attentive, multi-species medical staff. The head doctor, a tall, four-armed Mirran female named Vellis, greeted you both with a kind smile.
"Vitals look good," she said after a series of scans. "The pup's heart rate is strong. Growth is… unusual, but not dangerous."
"Unusual?" you asked, instinctively protective.
"Not harmful. Just… fast," Vellis explained. "Accelerated shifter gestation combined with De'rax's altered DNA—it's like your child is learning how to exist in two worlds at once."
De'rax's arm wrapped around your shoulders as you took that in, but you nodded. "That's fitting."
Before Vellis could respond, Silver Lining's voice came through the overhead system:
"Captain. Mate. I have something to show you. A surprise."
You both looked up, surprised.
De'rax raised a brow. "What kind of surprise?"
"One I believe you'll both appreciate. Please come to the observation deck."
You shared a glance and thanked Vellis before heading out.
The doors to the observation deck slid open with a soft hiss. You stepped inside, the starscape beyond glittering through the glass like shattered diamonds.
But what drew your eye wasn't the stars.
It was the structure floating in space just ahead. An enormous, long-abandoned mining station, now being repurposed. Newly lit corridors. Docking bays alive with movement. Ship pieces being welded into place. A crew of mixed species moving like they had a purpose again.
De'rax stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing.
"What is this?"
"It is yours," Silver Lining replied. "I took the liberty of contacting allies while you slept. This place will be ready in a week. A station. A sanctuary. A home. For the rescued. For your pup. For your future."
You felt breath catch in your throat, overwhelmed by the possibilities.
De'rax was quiet beside you. Then, slowly, he reached for your hand and held it firmly.
"We'll call it Haven," he murmured.
You nodded, tears stinging your eyes. "Haven."
The lights were low and warm throughout the gathering hall of Silver Lining, casting everything in a golden, comfortable glow. Tables were pushed together in the center of the room, filled with food—some from supply runs, some homemade in the ship's growing kitchen systems. Someone had managed to pull music from the ship's archives—an odd, eclectic mix of Earth classics, alien harmonics, and rhythmic tribal beats from De'rax's homeworld.
The crew filled the space with laughter and life.
Caylee spun through the room with Ty'ris, their hands linked, both flushed with warmth and excitement. Tara sat with Ennis and Argo, playfully teasing the pair as they argued over who had scored more clean hits during the last mission. Even Silver Lining chimed in occasionally, playing sound bites of the more absurd moments from past operations—someone's panicked shout, a misfired shot that startled a guard into falling into a crate, even a clip of Argo screaming at a food dispenser for giving him extra spicy paste.
You leaned against De'rax, your head on his shoulder, watching it all with a full heart. His hand rested protectively over your belly, and his other nursed a small glass of something rich and dark—gifted from a grateful ex-prisoner who'd once been a brewer.
"This," he said quietly, voice rough and content, "this is what we were fighting for."
You nodded, squeezing his hand. "And we're not done yet."
"But tonight," he added, "we're just alive."
He pulled you to your feet and guided you in a slow, unhurried sway to the rhythm of the music. Others joined. The crew. The former captives. No one was left out. Laughter echoed. Glasses clinked. Someone sang, off-key but unapologetically loud.
Eventually, full and smiling, the crew drifted off to their rooms in pairs and small groups. The lights dimmed further, Silver Lining humming low and content in the background.
You and De'rax returned to your quarters in silence, hands clasped. He pressed a kiss to your temple as you curled together in bed, your back to his chest, his arm snug around you.
"I like seeing them happy," you murmured sleepily.
"They deserve it. So do you," he whispered, voice thick with love.
And as the ship drifted silently through space toward the new station—toward Haven—you let sleep take you, wrapped in warmth, and the knowledge that you were building something more than survival.
You were building a future.