Psychicly Links

Scene 1 – “Knock Once, Enter Twice”

Quarters – 3-Delta | Karatros Station

Station Morning, One Cycle After the Spindle Tilt

The knock was too soft to wake them.

But Zara sat up anyway, gasping—already slick with sweat, hand tangled between her thighs. Her skin buzzed like static. The sheets were a mess, soaked from her dreams. From Tallis’s dreams.

She blinked. The room was dim. Gold-blue cycle glow traced long, lazy shadows across the walls.

Tallis was sitting up already, back against the bunk frame, knees to chest. Her eyes were open.

Wide. Glazed.

“Did you hear it?” she asked.

Zara swallowed. “I… think so.”

Tallis tilted her head. “But no one knocked.”

Zara shivered and stood, slipping out of the bed, bare feet sticking slightly to the floor. The air smelled of them—thick, ripe, electric. She pulled on the sleep shirt clinging to the chair and padded barefoot toward the door.

She opened it without thinking.

And he was there.

Tall. Bronze-skinned. Veins glowing faint blue under the surface. The one from Spindle Tilt. He stood motionless, hands at his sides, head tilted slightly. His eyes were black and reflective.

He smelled like heat and gravity.

Zara froze.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low, velvet-smooth.

“But you are,” Zara replied. Her voice wasn’t hers.

Tallis appeared behind her—silent, barefoot, her sleep shirt plastered to her chest. Her hands moved forward without conscious thought, fingertips brushing Zara’s arm.

Zara didn’t turn around.

The alien’s pupils contracted. “Since that night,” he said slowly, “I’ve had dreams. Of her.” He nodded to Tallis. “And of you.”

Zara exhaled. “Me too.”

Tallis’s hand gripped her shoulder—tight. She was trembling.

“Come inside,” Zara said.

She hadn’t meant to.

He stepped across the threshold. The door hissed shut behind him.

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Minutes Later

Inside the Quarters

None of them spoke.

Not at first.

Zara stood near the desk, leaning against the wall. Tallis was perched on the bed’s edge. The alien remained by the door, hands still at his sides.

But the air between them was alive. Humming. Pushing.

Zara cleared her throat. “What do you remember?”

He looked at her—not through her. Into.

“Heat. Hunger. But not mine.”

Zara blinked. “Ours?”

He nodded. “Something connected through you. It was watching me even as I touched you. It wanted me to follow you. To find her.” His gaze slid to Tallis, slowly, reverently.

Zara’s thighs clenched. Her nipples tingled. She didn’t move.

“You were part of it,” he whispered. “Now I am too.”

Tallis stood.

Walked to him.

She placed her hand on his chest, just above the glow in his sternum. He didn’t flinch. She inhaled deeply—then moaned softly.

Zara stepped forward. “We shouldn’t.”

But her mouth was already open.

Her lips brushing his neck.

Their bodies moved without agreement. Heat surged. Skin found skin. Tallis kissed the back of Zara’s shoulder as the alien kissed the side of her neck. Hands overlapped.

Zara gasped.

And then—fracture.

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Mental Convergence – Flash Intercut

She was seeing herself.

From two angles.

She was inside Tallis—literally, watching Zara writhe and gasp.

She was watching Tallis’s mouth move, but hearing her own words.

“I want to merge. Let me break.”

And then she was nothing—just heat, just rhythm, just breath shared between bodies, no I, no me.

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Back in the Room

Zara stumbled back.

Clutching her chest. Gasping. Wet between her legs, again, already.

Tallis was on her knees, panting. Her abdomen rippled visibly beneath her shirt.

The alien leaned against the wall, eyes closed, glowing faintly from beneath the skin.

None of them spoke.

Then Zara whispered:

“I don’t think this is us anymore.”

Tallis replied, not looking up: “Then who are we?”

A pause.

And from the alien’s mouth, in a voice that wasn’t his:

“We are the beginning.”

Quarters 3-Delta | Time Unknown

Zara sat curled at the foot of the bed, breath shallow, heart still racing from the shared high.

Tallis lay sprawled across the sheets behind her, shirt tangled, one arm thrown across her face like she couldn't bear the overhead light. Her lips were still parted—soft, wet, half-formed syllables escaping now and then, like echoes of something still happening in her head.

The alien stood by the door.

Silent. Watching.

His body glowed faintly beneath the skin. Veins of pale blue luminescence traced his arms and chest, pulsing like second heartbeats. He hadn’t spoken since the voice—that other voice—spoke through him.

Zara’s legs were trembling. Her thighs still sticky. Her fingers dug into the mattress as she swallowed and stood.

She approached him slowly.

“You said you dreamed us,” she murmured.

He nodded.

“But I think we dreamed you first.”

He didn’t deny it.

Zara placed her hand on his chest, palm flat against the pulse of light. The warmth beneath was almost feverish.

“Let me in.”

His eyelids fluttered.

She pressed closer—mouth against the ridge of his throat, one thigh sliding between his. Her other hand curled around the back of his hip, pulling him into contact. His skin was too smooth, like something grown rather than born.

And then she lowered herself to her knees.

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⚫ The Act – Alien Pleasure

She took him into her mouth.

It was nothing like human anatomy.

Smooth, yes—but flexible, ridged faintly along the underside with pulsating nodes. As she moved, the ridges changed pattern, adapting to her rhythm. Each time she pulled back, a soft pressure built in her sinuses—not painful, but directional. Like he was guiding her toward what he needed.

He made no sound.

But Zara felt something in her spine shudder—an alien feedback loop, his pleasure folding back into her own.

And then—

Memory.

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