Kilews ~upd~ | Desktop Updated |

“They’re sentient,” Kilews whispered.

They dropped out of warp into the Velorum system, and the trinkets weren't trinkets. Kilews saw the crates being loaded: not the usual coded polycarbon, but reinforced steel, humming with a cold she felt through her boots. She asked the loadmaster what was inside. He just winked and tapped his nose.

“What are they?”

She stumbled back, slammed the cargo door, and ran to the bridge.

The one on the top cage looked at her. It tilted its head. And then it spoke. kilews

Inside, stacked to the ceiling, were the cages. Small, elegant things of silver wire. And in each cage, a bird. Not mechanical. Not native to any world in the sector. They were the size of her fist, with feathers that shifted through colors she had no name for—deep violet to bleeding crimson to a gold that hurt to look at. Their eyes were black, deep as the space between stars, and each one was perfectly, utterly still. Except for the tapping.

“We need credits,” Voss cut her off. “Get it done.” “They’re sentient,” Kilews whispered

That night, while the ship coasted toward the orbital insertion point, she heard it. A soft, rhythmic tap-tap-tap from Cargo Hold 2. Like a finger on glass. Or a beak.