**Chapter 416**
Kayla paced the narrow confines of the auxiliary lounge, her bare feet silent on the cool deck plating. The soft pink hue of her Zeltron skin seemed duller under the harsh overhead lights, flushed with the restless cocktail of emotions she could never quite suppress. Zeltrons weren't built for restraint. They were made for connection, for passion, for the intoxicating feedback loop of love and desire. But out here, in the cold machinery of war and shifting alliances, that need had become a liability—one that gnawed at her constantly.
She felt closer to Dagon than the others. The admission sat heavy in her chest, shameful and true all at once. The other girls had their strengths, their histories, but none carried the same aching void she did. Dagon had seen it immediately. He hadn't laughed at her intensity or pulled away from the overwhelming waves of affection she projected. Instead, he had steadied her. He taught her that her personality—vibrant, hungry for touch, almost desperate in its need for love—didn't have to consume her. He gave her boundaries that felt like safety rather than rejection. He showed her she could be wanted without losing herself entirely.
And now he was pulling away again. Or at least it felt that way.
The door slid open. Nox entered, shoulders squared but eyes shadowed with fatigue. Kayla's empathic senses flared at once, picking up the familiar undercurrent of his strain. She hated it. She hated adding to it.
"Kayla," he said, voice low and careful. "You've been in here for hours. The others are worried."
She stopped pacing, turning toward him with eyes already glistening. "I can't help it, Nox. Everything inside me is screaming. Being Zeltron means I feel *too* much. Always. The love I need, the closeness… it's not optional. It's biology. It's who I am. And Dagon… he understood that better than anyone. He helped me with my personality. He didn't treat me like I was broken for wanting so deeply. He made the need feel manageable. Like I wasn't just some emotional black hole draining everyone around me."
Her voice cracked. The first tears slipped free, tracing warm paths down her cheeks. She didn't bother wiping them away. More would come. They always did.
Nox stepped closer, his expression a mix of compassion and the quiet dread of another long night. More emotional baggage for him to deal with and listen to again. The thought made her cry harder. She knew he was stretched thin—trying to hold the group together, navigating the complexities of their fractured hearts while the galaxy demanded his focus. Yet here she was, dumping another load onto his shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, sinking onto the low bench. "I know I'm making it worse. More drama. More crying. You've already done this with Stella, with the others. And now me. Again."
He sat beside her, not touching at first, letting her decide. When she leaned into him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's not about keeping score, Kayla. You're allowed to feel what you feel. Dagon helped you, I know that. He's good at seeing exactly what each person needs. But you're not alone now. We're figuring this out together—even when it's messy."
Kayla shook her head, burying her face against his chest as sobs built. "It's not the same. With him, I didn't have to explain why I crave touch like oxygen. Why silence feels like rejection. Why my skin practically vibrates when someone I care about is near. He helped me channel it. Made me feel… worthy of love instead of burdensome. The other girls are strong in their own ways, but I felt *closer* to him. Like he completed a circuit in me that was always shorting out."
The tears came in earnest now, hot and unrelenting. She cried for the version of herself that used to chase affection in all the wrong places back on Zeltros and colony worlds alike. She cried for the fear that she would always be too much—that her Zeltron nature would push everyone away eventually. She cried because Dagon had quieted those fears, and now the absence of that quiet strength left her raw and exposed.
Nox held her through it, murmuring soft reassurances, stroking her hair with the patience of someone who had done this too many times lately. More drama. More crying. The lounge filled with the sound of her muffled sobs and shuddering breaths. He listened as she poured out every tangled insecurity: the jealousy she felt toward the others despite loving them, the terror that her neediness would drive Dagon further away, the guilt of burdening Nox yet again.
Minutes stretched. Her crying eventually ebbed into hiccuping sniffles, but the emotional storm left her drained, clinging to him like a lifeline.
His comm chimed softly. Nox checked the message, his body tensing slightly beneath her.
"Kayla," he said after a moment, voice gentle but firm. "Dagon wants you in the Finalizer headquarters. He's transferring his command there—settling into the new bed quarters. He said don't be late."
She lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed and shining with fresh tears, but something else flickered there too—hope, longing, that deep Zeltron pull toward connection. The ache in her chest sharpened, then eased just a fraction.
"Yes," she breathed, the word carrying the weight of her entire heart.
She stood quickly, smoothing her clothes with trembling hands. Without another word, she ran off, the soft slap of her bare feet echoing down the corridor as she hurried toward the hangar transit.
Visenya had been waiting just outside the lounge, leaning against the bulkhead with arms crossed. She had heard enough—enough of the tears, enough of the raw vulnerability spilling out. Her expression was unreadable at first, a careful mask, but her eyes softened as Kayla burst into the hallway.
"Kayla," Visenya called quietly, pushing off the wall and falling into step behind her. She didn't try to stop her, didn't demand explanations. She simply followed, matching the hurried pace without crowding.
Kayla glanced back once, tears still streaking her face, but she didn't slow. The pull toward Dagon was magnetic, irresistible. Visenya's presence at her back felt like both protection and quiet judgment, another layer in the complicated web of emotions binding them all.
The corridors blurred past—maintenance techs stepping aside, the low hum of the ship's systems a constant backdrop. Kayla's mind raced faster than her feet. Memories of Dagon's steady voice calming her during panic episodes, his touch grounding her when the Zeltron pheromones and empathic feedback threatened to overwhelm her senses. He had taught her control without diminishing her fire. He had loved her intensity rather than fearing it.
And now she was running toward him again, heart laid bare, hoping the new quarters aboard the Finalizer would offer even a fraction of that old safety.
Visenya kept pace, silent but present, her own thoughts hidden behind a warrior's discipline. She followed Kayla through the junction points, past security checkpoints where clearance codes were barely acknowledged in Kayla's haste. The emotional residue trailing behind the Zeltron girl was almost palpable—longing, fear, desperate affection.
They reached the transit tube that would take them across to the Finalizer's command section. Kayla paused only long enough to swipe her access, breathing hard, cheeks flushed darker pink from exertion and tears.
Visenya stopped beside her, finally speaking. "You don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens in those quarters… we're still here. All of us."
Kayla offered a watery smile, fragile but genuine. "I know. But right now, I need this. I need him. The way he makes the noise in my head quiet."
The tube doors opened. Kayla stepped inside. Visenya followed without hesitation.
As the transit accelerated, carrying them toward the Finalizer headquarters and Dagon's new bed quarters, Kayla leaned against the cool wall, eyes closed, letting the last of her tears dry on her skin. The drama wasn't over. The crying would likely return. But for this moment, the promise of Dagon's presence pulled her forward like gravity.
Nox remained behind in the lounge, staring at the empty space where Kayla had been. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than ever. More emotional baggage. More fractured hearts to hold together while the galaxy spun on indifferent axes. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples.
How many more nights like this lay ahead?