They had succeeded my fuel levels were slowly climbing as the lander approached and the harvester drones dropped off their supplies but my relief was short-lived. Alongside the lander came an unwelcome guest, slipping quietly through space, barely detectable. Maybe I was just adapting to my new reality, but I could feel it, the soft disturbance of a stealth ship trailing the crew back toward us.

  I prepared to hail them, ready to put on a friendly face, but they beat me to it.

  The communication crackled open, revealing a darkened cockpit and sharp, reptilian eyes staring back at us. "We followed the baby bird home," came a voice it was raspy, amused, full of quiet menace. "Only to find a wounded, weakened mother. There's no honor in taking such unworthy prey. Submit to boarding, and we may yet spare your lives."

  I was only half-listening, my attention drawn instead to the speaker’s features. Predatory eyes set forward, gleaming with focused intelligence, rows of dagger-like teeth visible as they spoke. But what held me transfixed was the scaled, dragon-like armor covering their bodies. Natural plating, evolved long before their species had discovered technology. A perfect hunter, right down to their bones. That must have been how they had become the apex on their planet.

  Laia’s voice broke through my fascinated reverie. "Let me talk to them," she urged, her tone calm but urgent. "They hate humans. In my avatar form, at least they might listen."

  She didn't wait for my response, projecting herself immediately onto the comm channel, appearing calm, luminous, and entirely unimpressed. "We won't be boarded," she said, her voice even, smooth, and authoritative. "Your 'help' is neither requested nor required. Leave us."

  For a long, tense moment, silence hung heavily across the open comm channel. The predator’s yellow eyes narrowed, staring at Laia carefully, assessing her defiance. I felt a small amount of doubt. Had we miscalculated?

  Laia held firm, her avatar hovering with calculated indifference. She radiated calm there was no fear, no hesitation, just confidence. It was an impressive performance, and it kept the predator quiet.

  Privately, I signalled the lander. "Stay out of sight," I urged. "Use your stealth system." It probably wouldn’t help much given our enemy had better stealth techbut it was worth trying. At least it might keep the crew safe if things turned ugly.

  My sensors picked up movement from the enemy vessel: a large boarding pod disengaged from its mothership, shields shimmering briefly before locking firmly into place. Laia turned sharply to me, her voice steady but intense.

  "Open the cargo bay," she said. "Let them in. Let them feel confident. Then I’ll give them something to regret." I could sense her giddyness which is something that I would have to control in future.

  As the pod approached, I launched few of my remaining harvesting drones to intercept, their tools latching hungrily onto the pod's segmented shield. They couldn't break through but Laia urged me to keep at it, forcing our enemy to burn power to maintain their defences.

  The pod docked with a heavy clang that resonated through my hull. Moments later, twenty armored Kall-e soldiers spilled into my cargo bay, each clad in heavy powered suits bristling with weapons. They moved with ruthless efficiency, a perfect predator pack preparing for slaughter.

  Then Laia smiled it was a chilling, predatory grin utterly unlike her usual gentle fa?ade and dissolved her fairy-like form into a swirling storm of silver nanites. The Kall-e froze, recognition flooding their faces as they watched the cloud reshape itself into something they clearly knew all too well: a metallic squid, eight articulated limbs poised like sharpened blades, its spherical core bristling with deadly precision.

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  "The Harvester," one of them growled, voice distorted through their helmet. The translation echoed clearly in my systems. Recognition meant history, so some past version of myself had c left scars on their kind.

  I felt a sudden rush of fear but not for Laia, but for what she'd do. "Don’t kill them," I warned her sharply through our private channel. "Without the slipstream drive, antagonizing their whole species is a death sentence."

  Laia’s reply came back calm and measured, without hesitation. "That was always the plan."

  The Kall-e warriors stormed into my cargo bay, moving as a single, disciplined unit. Their heavy powered armor, scarred from countless battles, each plate etched with symbols of conquest. They moved fluidly despite their size, tactical formations practised and flawless, weapons drawn and charged with energy.

  Their reputation was well-deserved: fast, precise, and merciless. Their visors glowed faintly red, illuminating snarling faces filled with rows of jagged teeth as they advanced cautiously, weapons sweeping the corridors ahead.

  Her metallic squid form moved with shocking speed. She surged forward, a blur of elegant destruction.

  The first warrior raised his rifle, firing a volley that slammed harmlessly against her shifting nanite armor. Laia’s tentacles lashed out, slicing through the barrel of the weapon in a flash of sparks and molten alloy. Another soldier lunged forward, combat blade drawn, and she twisted sharply, using the tight corridor walls to propel herself sideways, driving the Kall-e into the bulkhead with brutal force, armor buckling from the impact.

  Still, the Kall-e fought fiercely. They regrouped rapidly, barking orders in guttural tones. Weapons fire illuminated the corridor, bursts of plasma scorching walls and flooring, armor glancing shots filling the air with metallic shrieks. But Laia was impossibly agile, she was dodging, weaving, every movement calculated, no wasted energy or missed strike.

  She targeted their power sources first, precise strikes severing internal systems, suits freezing mid-motion. She ripped through weapons, bending barrels and crushing chambers with ruthless efficiency. Within moments, the corridor was littered with broken equipment and fallen warriors. They were defeated but alive.

  As the remaining warriors struggled to their feet, dazed and disoriented, Laia hovered silently above them. Her sensors pulsed steadily, her limbs folding back into elegant stillness. No anger. No triumph. Just perfect, icy control.

  The Kall-e gazed up at her, battered yet defiant but something had shifted behind their eyes. Respect. Fear.

  They knew exactly what she was, and what that meant for them.

  The fight had never truly been a fight. It was a swift, calculated demonstration: cold, absolute, and undeniable.

  The response from the Kall-e ship came swiftly, the comm snapping open again. Their leader’s face appeared once more, his yellow eyes narrowed except this time, he seemed genuinely pleased, his predatory expression relaxed into something approaching respect.

  "I was unaware you harbored a Harvester," he rasped, voice filled with grudging admiration. "You have bested my warriors in honorable combat. By our code, you have earned a boon. Name your request."

  I paused, caught off guard. Clearly, I still didn’t understand this species. It seemed that honor and violence were impossibly intertwined for them. Defeat, it appeared, was just another form of diplomacy.

  "Perhaps we could exchange supplies and information?" I suggested cautiously. "Our slipstream drive is damaged. If you have the means—"

  The Kall-e interrupted sharply, shaking his head. "We do not use your machines. Our kind do not violate the Mother Blood with technology." The words carried a hint of disgust, but he maintained his calm. "However, provisions, fuel, and data are acceptable requests."

  The mention of Mother Blood hinted at a wider religious order, I had not expected to have heard that from here,

  I hesitated only briefly, processing their strange logic. It seemed a display of force—no matter how brutal or brief—had earned us a measure of respect, something negotiations alone couldn't achieve. I wasn't entirely comfortable with that idea, but survival rarely asked about my comfort level.

  "We accept," I said firmly. "An exchange of goods and information, then."

  The Kall-e leader nodded solemnly. "Very well. Honor has been upheld today."

  He cut the comm abruptly, leaving us once more in tense silence. Beside me, Laia's form shifted back from the lethal squid into the familiar, gentle fairy avatar. She looked thoughtful, perhaps as puzzled as I was.

  "Strange culture," she murmured softly.

  I let out a simulated sigh. "You're telling me."