Chapter 97: Waiting for the Ghost
Chapter 97: Waiting for the Ghost
In a shadowed corner of an old observatory repurposed as a monitoring station, screens projected blurry images, encrypted feeds, and trajectory diagrams. The silence was almost reverent, broken only by the soft clicking of an Exotherian interface that only he knew how to operate.
Alan Griffin, wrapped in a simple coat with angular cuts, arms crossed, watched one of the primary monitors. The Narak’Tharr had just departed Z-47. He didn’t smile. Not exactly. But his features eased—barely, but unmistakably.
“You survived,” he murmured. “Once again.”
He brushed a finger across a secondary terminal, sharpening an image: Evelyn, her gaze hardened by combat, standing beside a Kael’tarian whose name had long been written in his files. Vykhor Kael’Set’h.
The bond between them was no longer in question. A My’Lari. A Tav’Ren.
The equation was becoming more complex… but not unsolvable.
Another screen displayed faces, profiles, faint signals captured across the galaxy. The Master was moving closer. Griffin knew it. He felt it. A growing shadow, imperious and inevitable. And yet, he remained calm. Prepared.
His fingers tapped a sequence, launching a series of analytical algorithms. His network of informants—hybrids, dormant AIs, human cells—continued tracking the Master’s movements. But Evelyn… Evelyn was changing faster than expected. Deeper than expected.
She was no longer the child he had once taught how to hold a fork. She was a woman ready to face her origins.
And soon… ready to face him.
Not Alan. But the one they would have to destroy. The creator. The true culprit.
A soft beep echoed through the room. The analysis of the access code sent to the Narak’Tharr had confirmed successful execution. Evelyn had received his message. The final line of the program had written itself: Meeting initiated.
Alan Griffin stepped back, letting his gaze linger on a half-hidden framed photograph on a dusty shelf. A faded image of a teenage Evelyn, caught in secret during one of their rare moments of peace.
“…I’m coming, Evelyn.”
And this time, he would not run.
Aboard the Narak’Tharr
The ship vibrated faintly, as if it, too, were holding its breath. The metallic corridors—usually echoing with Vykhor’s decisive footsteps or Blue’s antics—were quieter today, almost respectful. The Kael’seth pack had gathered in the common room, each busying themselves with nothing, each stealing not-so-discreet glances toward the docking ramp.
Evelyn pretended to review security reports on her handheld screen, but her fingers trembled slightly. She didn’t even notice. She had tied her hair neatly, chosen a simple but clean outfit. It wasn’t vanity.
It was armor.
Vykhor watched her from across the room. He felt every uneven heartbeat, every too-short breath, every micro-movement she struggled to control. He said nothing. Not yet. He knew what Griffin was to her.
A ghost from the past. A lost father who had never truly left her mind.
In a corner, Zeynn had taken refuge between tool crates and the auxiliary generator. He fiddled with a deactivated navigation module, spinning it between his fingers with exaggerated concentration. Ever since Kane’s return, Zeynn had been avoiding him, slipping away with agile precision, vanishing behind automatic doors, burying himself in pointless tasks.
And Kane, finally, had left the infirmary.
Wearing a black shirt that barely hid the bandages under the collar, he limped inside, his usual smirk in place. But his eyes betrayed a fatigue he no longer tried to hide. He scanned the room, locking eyes with Vykhor.
Instant friction.
The Kael’tarian straightened, crossing his arms. The silence between them weighed more than any exchange of blows. In that silence lived everything Vykhor hadn’t forgiven—and everything Kane refused to regret. An alliance born of necessity, not reconciliation.
“You know,” Kane said as he eased into a seat, stretching his injured leg, “you could at least pretend you’re glad I’m alive.”
“I am glad,” Vykhor replied coldly. “Glad you’re too banged up to betray us again.”
Skye, nearby, rolled her eyes.
“Oh great. Here we go—the ‘who has the biggest grudge’ contest.”
Blue had planted himself beside Evelyn, as always. He had sensed her agitation since dawn and had not left her side for a second. Now and then he rested a paw on her leg or nudged her hand with his muzzle, a silent reminder that she was no longer alone.
Evelyn inhaled slowly. She forced herself to speak, though her voice lacked firmness.
“I’m… going to check everything is ready for the arrival. The ramp, the security field—”
“You checked all that three times already,” Rax said without looking up from the holographic interface he was tinkering with. “And I locked everything myself. Maybe try… breathing?”
She shot him an annoyed look—not hostile, just embarrassed. He was right. But she couldn’t stop.
Because he was coming.
Griffin.
The one who taught her how to live. The one who left. The one she had never stopped waiting for.
She turned to leave, but a small silhouette slipped up to her quietly. Zeynn. He held out a tiny metal cube.
“It’s to help keep your voice steady. A breathing routine. I tweaked the sequences.”
She took it gently, her gaze softening.
“Thank you, Zeynn.”
A pause. Then, lower:
“You’re really good at this, you know.”
He shrugged, flustered. Then muttered:
“You seem to care about him. So… I hope he’s worth it.”
Before she could respond, he disappeared back into the shadows of the ship—visible to no one but her.
Evelyn stood still, the small cube in her hand, her chest tight.
Griffin was coming. And this time… she hoped she wouldn’t have to say goodbye.
And finally, the moment arrived…
The outer airlock of the Narak’Tharr opened with a hydraulic sigh, letting in the metallic echoes of the docking bay. Every gaze turned toward the entrance—except Evelyn’s. She stared at the floor, fists clenched, frozen between anticipation and fear. Her breathing hitched, as if each inhale cost her effort.
Vykhor stood beside her, silent. He felt every tension quivering inside her, every tremor beneath her skin. Zeynn, a little behind, held an unusually quiet Blue in his arms, the feline’s muzzle resting against the boy’s leg.
The first to appear was a Kryna scout: a floating light-probe.
And then he stepped in.
Alan Griffin.
Not a soldier. Not a war hero. Just… a man.
Shorter than in Evelyn’s memories. More worn. More angular. He wore a long gray coat over simple clothes, a single bag in hand. His black hair, now shoulder-length, was tied neatly at the back, revealing a stern face carved by time—but still carrying that distinct spark of Exotherian intelligence.
His dark eyes shimmered, absorbing every detail with sharp intensity. His body was lean, wired, stretched like a bowstring—someone who had survived too long in the shadows.
He stopped at the threshold. His eyes searched.
And then… he found her.
Evelyn finally looked up. Their gazes collided.
The silence that followed was heavy, tangible—filled with everything they had never said.
“You’ve grown,” he murmured, voice rough. “And you’re still standing.”
She stepped forward slowly. One, two, three seconds of suspended time before the others quietly slipped away. Vykhor placed a steadying hand on Zeynn’s shoulder and guided him back. Even Kane, who had come prepared with a sarcastic remark, realized he had no place here.
Evelyn didn’t cry. But her voice shook.
“I’ve waited years for this moment… and now that it’s here, I don’t even know what to say.”
Griffin moved closer, stopping just a meter from her.
“You don’t need to say anything. I came to see… if what I left behind had endured. And I see you’ve become an exceptional woman.”
A fragile smile trembled on her lips.
“I missed you, Alan.”
He held out a hand—hesitant, trembling.
Evelyn took it without thinking. And in that instant, every unsaid word collapsed into a peaceful silence.
They embraced—briefly, but truthfully. As two people who had crossed different worlds, yet whose bond had never broken.
When he stepped back, Griffin whispered:
“I couldn’t stay away any longer. It’s time we talked. Time I helped you destroy him… and everything he stole from you.”
Evelyn nodded slowly, her eyes glowing with new certainty.
“Then you’re in the right place, Griffin. Welcome to the Kael’Set’h pack.”