Chapter Text
Astra waited until the chamber was quiet again.
Not just silent in the way stone rooms always were on Yautja Prime, but settled—as if the walls themselves had accepted Njohrr’s absence. Only then did she shift, slowly, carefully, as though any sudden movement might break the fragile control she had regained over her body. Shae sat beside her on the edge of the stone bed, legs tucked beneath her, fingers twisting the hem of her borrowed fabric. Kael lingered close, his shoulder pressed to Astra’s arm, eyes darting occasionally toward the sealed door.
Neither of them had spoken since Njohrr left.
Astra exhaled through her nose and placed a hand on Kael’s back. “I need you both to listen to me,” she said quietly. Shae looked up immediately. Kael straightened.
“I’m going to talk to him again,” Astra continued. “I’m going to tell him I’m leaving these quarters.”
Shae’s eyes widened. “Astra—”
“I’m not staying here,” Astra said firmly. “Not another night.”
Kael’s fingers curled into her sleeve. “But… what if he doesn’t let you?”
Astra met his gaze. There was no softness in her expression now—only resolve. “Then I’ll make him understand.”
Shae swallowed. “He doesn’t seem like the kind that listens.”
“No,” Astra agreed. “He’s the kind that controls. Which means he understands leverage.”
She stood, ignoring the protest of her muscles, and straightened the borrowed fabric around herself. Her body still ached, but anger had sharpened her focus into something clear and dangerous.
“Stay here,” she told them. “No matter what you hear. No matter how long it takes.”
Kael nodded reluctantly. Shae reached for Astra’s hand, squeezing it once.
“Be careful,” Shae whispered.
Astra gave her a small, tight smile. “I always am.”
⸻
Njohrr was in the main hall when Astra entered.
He stood near a tactical table carved from dark stone, illuminated by suspended holograms depicting clan territories, hunting routes, and off-world movements. Two warriors stood guard at the far end of the chamber, but neither moved when Astra approached. Njohrr turned slowly. His mandibles flexed when he saw her—an expression Astra was beginning to recognize as interest, not pleasure.
“You rise quickly,” he observed. Astra stopped several paces away. She stood straight, shoulders squared, chin lifted.
“Thank you,” she said. Njohrr paused. The word clearly surprised him.
“For keeping your word,” Astra continued evenly. “Shae and Kael were safe. Fed. Untouched.”
Njohrr inclined his head slightly. “I do not break my word.”
“I see that,” Astra replied. “And because of that, I’m going to be honest with you.”
She took a breath. “I won’t be staying in your quarters.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Njohrr stared at her, unmoving. Then—slowly—he laughed. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t explosive. It was a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest and echoed faintly off the stone walls, filled with disbelief rather than amusement.
“You misunderstand your position,” he said at last.
Astra’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think I do.”
“You are under my protection,” Njohrr continued. “That protection exists here. Not in the human pens. Not among instability.”
“I don’t want your protection,” Astra said. “I want to be with my people.”
Njohrr stepped closer.
“And that,” he said calmly, “is not possible.”
Astra did not step back. “It is. You’ll allow it.”
Njohrr stopped directly in front of her, towering. “You speak as though you command.”
“I speak as someone who won’t be owned.”
The air between them crackled. Njohrr’s eyes darkened—not with anger, but calculation. “You believe the barracks offer safety?”
“No,” Astra said. “I believe they offer honesty.”
Njohrr tilted his head. “Explain.”
“In the barracks,” she said steadily, “I know what I am. A prisoner. A slave. I don’t have to pretend otherwise. Here—” she gestured around the chamber, “—you pretend this is something else. Something mutual.”
“It is,” Njohrr said.
Astra laughed sharply. “No. It isn’t.”
She held his gaze. “I won’t sleep in your bed again. I won’t eat at your table. I won’t let my silence be mistaken for consent.”
Njohrr studied her for a long moment. Then his expression changed. It was subtle—but Astra felt it immediately. The warmth vanished.
“You may return to the barracks,” he said.
Astra’s heart lifted—only slightly.
“Alone.”
The word landed like a blade. Astra’s breath stuttered. “No.”
Njohrr’s voice dropped, quiet and deadly. “Yes.”
“What about Shae and Kael?” Astra demanded.
Njohrr did not hesitate. “If you return to the human pens,” he said calmly, “I will kill them.”
The words were delivered without heat. Without threat in the traditional sense. As fact. Astra froze. The room seemed to tilt.
“You’re lying,” she said, but her voice wavered. Njohrr leaned down slightly, his face closer now—close enough for her to see the ancient scars along his mandibles.
“I do not lie,” he said. “And I do not repeat warnings.”
Astra’s hands trembled. “They’re children.”
“They are leverage.”
The word gutted her.
“You wouldn’t,” she whispered. “You said they were protected.”
“They are,” Njohrr replied. “As long as you remain.”
Astra shook her head, disbelief crashing into fury. “That’s not protection. That’s a hostage situation.”
Njohrr straightened. “That is governance.”
Her vision blurred—not with tears, but with rage. “You think this makes you powerful?”
“I am powerful.”
“No,” Astra snapped. “This makes you a coward.”
The guards shifted subtly. Njohrr did not react outwardly, but his eyes hardened. “Careful.”
“You don’t get to threaten them,” Astra said, voice breaking now. “You don’t get to punish them for my choices.”
“You force my hand,” he replied coolly. “You disrupt balance. You inspire dissent. Humans fight because of you.”
“They fight because they’re desperate!”
“They fight because they believe you matter,” Njohrr countered. “And that belief is dangerous.”
Astra pressed her palms together, trying to steady herself. “Then kill me,” she said. Njohrr blinked.
“Let them go. Kill me. That’s the only honorable move you have left.”
Silence stretched. Then Njohrr laughed again—but this time, there was no humor in it at all.
“You overestimate your value,” he said. “Your death would not stabilize anything. It would turn you into a symbol.”
He leaned closer, voice low. “Alive, contained, you are manageable.”
Astra’s shoulders sagged.
“You’re forcing me to choose,” she whispered.
“No,” Njohrr said. “I already chose.”
The truth settled like ash in her lungs. If she left—Shae and Kael died. If she stayed—she lived with the knowledge that her presence was the cage.
Njohrr stepped back. “You will remain in my quarters. They will remain safe.”
Astra turned away from him, chest heaving.
“Get out,” he said. Njohrr watched her for a moment longer, and added before she would leave. “You will come to understand.”
When she left, the chamber felt colder. Astra stood out of the chamber, alone, fists clenched, jaw locked, the weight of the decision crushing her. She had wanted freedom. Instead, she had been given a leash. And it was tied to the lives of the only two people she could not afford to lose.
———
Astra did not return to the sleeping chamber right away.
She stood in the corridor after she left, staring at the stone wall in front of her as if it might fracture under the weight pressing behind her eyes. The torches burned steadily, their flames casting slow-moving shadows across the carvings etched into the walls—battles, hunts, victories immortalized in stone.
She didn’t see any of it. Her hands were shaking. Not violently. Not visibly to anyone passing by. Just enough that she had to curl her fingers into her palms to still them. Her chest felt too tight, like the air itself had thickened, resisting every breath she tried to take.
If you return to the barracks, I will kill them.
The words repeated endlessly, echoing through her mind with mechanical cruelty. There had been no anger in his voice. No malice. Just certainty. That was what terrified her the most. Astra pressed her forehead against the cool stone wall. For a moment, she considered screaming.
The urge rose suddenly and fiercely—an animal need to tear the pressure out of her chest with sound, to let the walls hear what she couldn’t say to anyone else. Her jaw clenched hard enough to ache as she swallowed it back.
She could not afford to lose control. Not here. Not now.
Slowly, she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the stone floor, knees drawn to her chest. The corridor was empty, the guards stationed far enough away to grant her a fragile illusion of privacy.
The moment her back hit the wall, something inside her gave way. Her breath hitched once. Twice.
Then she folded forward, pressing her face into her knees, shoulders shaking as the soundless sobs tore through her chest. Tears burned her eyes, spilled freely down her cheeks, soaking into the fabric she wore. She bit down on her sleeve to keep from making a sound, teeth pressing hard enough to hurt.
She cried for everything she hadn’t let herself feel before. For the ship. For Earth. For the humans who had already died. For the way her body no longer felt like it belonged to her.
But most of all—
For Shae and Kael.
Her breath broke completely at the thought of them. They are leverage. The word echoed, cruel and precise. Astra pressed her fist to her mouth, stifling a broken sound that tried to claw its way out of her throat.
She had tried to be strong for them. She had tried to be the one who didn’t break, the one who could stand between them and the worst of this world. Somewhere along the way, that role had turned into a trap.
Because now, her strength was the cage. Her staying meant safety. Her leaving meant death. The choice was no choice at all.
Astra squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. She welcomed the sting—it grounded her, anchored her in something real and immediate instead of the endless spiral in her head.
You can do this, she told herself fiercely.
You have to.
She cried until her chest hurt, until her throat felt raw and swollen, until exhaustion dulled the edge of the pain into something manageable. When the tears finally slowed, she stayed there a while longer, breathing shakily, forehead still pressed to her knees. No one came. No one interrupted.
Eventually, Astra forced herself to straighten.
She wiped her face roughly with the back of her sleeve, then again, slower this time, making sure there were no visible traces left behind. She smoothed her hair back with trembling fingers, taking long, deliberate breaths until her chest stopped heaving.
By the time she stood, her expression was set. Not calm. But controlled. That was all she needed.
⸻
Shae noticed immediately when Astra returned.
She was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the bed, Kael beside her, both of them looking up the moment the door slid open. Relief washed over Shae’s face so fast it almost hurt to see.
“Astra,” she breathed. “You were gone for a long time.”
Kael scrambled to his feet. “Did he—did he say anything else?”
Astra paused just inside the doorway. For a fraction of a second, she considered telling them the truth.
The image flashed vividly in her mind: Shae’s face crumpling, Kael’s eyes widening with terror, the knowledge settling into them like poison. She imagined Kael blaming himself, Shae insisting they run, both of them trying to be brave in ways that would only get them killed.
She could not do that to them. So Astra smiled. It wasn’t a wide smile. It wasn’t carefree. But it was steady.
“I took longer than I meant to,” she said evenly. “Sorry about that.”
Shae studied her closely, brow furrowing. “Are you okay?”
Astra crossed the room and knelt in front of them, placing her hands gently on their shoulders. “I’m fine,” she said without hesitation. “Just tired.”
Kael hesitated. “He didn’t… get angry, did he?”
“No,” Astra replied smoothly. “We talked. That’s all.”
Shae exchanged a glance with Kael. “And?”
“And,” Astra continued, choosing each word carefully, “I changed my mind. I want to stay here. With you two. We…are safer here than in the barracks.”
“Really?” Shae asked softly.
“Yes.” Astra nodded. “You stay here with me. No one touches you. No one moves you without permission.”
Kael let out a breath he’d clearly been holding. “So… we’re safe?”
Astra met his eyes.
“As safe as we can be,” she said.
It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.
Kael stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his forehead against her stomach. Astra stiffened instinctively for half a heartbeat—then relaxed, resting her hand on his back.
Shae followed a moment later, hugging Astra from the side, careful of her injuries.
“I was scared,” Shae admitted quietly. “When you weren’t here, I kept thinking maybe he changed his mind.”
Astra’s chest tightened. “He won’t,” she said firmly. “I made sure of that.”
Kael pulled back slightly to look at her. “You’re really brave,” he said earnestly. “You know that, right?”
The words landed like a blow. Astra swallowed hard and forced a small laugh. “I don’t feel brave.”
“But you are,” Shae insisted. “You always stand up for us. Even when you’re hurt.”
Astra brushed a thumb under Shae’s eye, wiping away a smudge of grime. “That’s my job,” she said gently.
“No,” Kael said. “It’s because you care.”
Astra looked away before they could see her eyes shine.
⸻
Later, when Shae and Kael finally settled down to rest, Astra remained awake. She sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands folded loosely in her lap, staring at the far wall. The chamber was quiet, lit only by the low glow of the torches outside. Shae slept curled under one of the pelts, Kael nearby, his breathing slow and even.
They looked peaceful. That was the cruelest part. Astra reached out and adjusted the pelt around Kael’s shoulders, her movements slow and careful. She brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead, then did the same for Shae, tucking the fabric closer around her.
“They can’t know,” Astra whispered to herself.
If they knew the truth, they would try to be brave. They would try to sacrifice themselves for her, or worse—try to escape. They would die. So Astra would carry it alone. The threat. The fear. The knowledge that her presence was the only thing keeping them alive.
She lay back against the stone headrest, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Her body ached, her mind buzzing with exhaustion and fury, but sleep refused to come. Somewhere beyond the walls, Njohrr ruled his clan with certainty and force.
Here, Astra lay awake, holding the weight of two lives on her chest, wondering how long she could endure before something inside her finally broke. But when Shae shifted in her sleep and Kael murmured softly, Astra’s resolve hardened.
As long as they’re breathing, she thought, I’ll stay. Even if it destroyed her.