Reborn as a Spaceship

T'lish stood by the airlock, flanked by her towering sons, their freshly polished ceremonial armour catching the station lights like polished obsidian. The Kall-e scientist had come a long way from the curious outcast I had once rescued from obscurity, and the change in her was remarkable. The intensity behind her dark eyes was undiminished, but there was an authority now, an ease in command that suited her well.

"You're certain about this?" I asked, still adjusting to the strange sensation of actually using my vocal cords. The sound felt deeper, richer, resonating from within my chest rather than echoing through my avatar.

T'lish nodded firmly, her voice calm but unwavering. "Thisse has given me hope, Lazarus. For the first time since I've known the scale of the damage my people endured in the war, I see a real possibility of reversing it. If we can't heal it completely, then perhaps we can harness it."

"Harness it?" Stewie asked, tilting his head, a faint smirk of curiosity pulling at his lips. "How exactly?"

"Adaptation," she explained patiently. "The human genetic tampering left my people fragmented and damaged. But within that damage lies potential, a pathways unlocked that we don't know about. If Thisse is correct, we could shape something entirely new. Perhaps even surpass our old limits."

"Just be careful," I said, more gently. "I've seen how Traxlic experiments tend to go. Thisse might not be a normal Traxlic but that doesn't mean he cares about us or your people"

T'lish's eyes softened, her smile twisted slightly. "Trust me, old friend. I learned caution from the best."

Her sons, K'lak and K'Pish, each gave respectful nods before following her down the corridor, their heavy footsteps echoing into silence. Watching them go, I felt an unexpected pang. They'd grown so quickly, changing from curious hatchlings to formidable warriors seemingly overnight. Yet, it was the fleeting nature of their existence that somehow gave it meaning.

"Well," Stewie clapped a hand on my shoulder, jolting me from introspection. "How about you, Captain? Ready to take that new body out for a spin?"

I sighed deeply, stretching limbs that still felt alien. "I'd call it less a spin and more a shuffle at the moment." I now had limbs that I could control, but they weren't listening to my instruction. I felt heavy and uncoordinated.

He laughed openly, clearly enjoying my predicament. "Mira will help, right?"

Mira elbowed him sharply. "Of course, Laz. Don't mind him—he forgets we all saw him dancing on that bar table."

Stewie turned bright red. "Hey! I maintain they spiked my drink with rocket fuel. I don't get drunk that fast normally. At least I can dance"

She giggled, pulling out her holopad to reveal video footage of him stumbling about, waving his arms theatrically atop a battered tavern table. Stewie groaned loudly and covered his face, muttering something incoherent.

"Not sure I call that dancing" she stated with a smirk.

I grinned despite myself, my mouth responding effortlessly for once. "Clearly, you're a great role model."

Mira gave my arm an encouraging tug. "Come on. Let's see if we can't get you walking without tripping over yourself."

The next few days were grueling. I'd never anticipated just how complex basic motor functions could be when you were learning to walk as an adult and not a child. It wasn't as simple as knowing how to move. The body itself was something extraordinary with each movement translating into sensations more intense and detailed than I'd imagined or remembered. Every shift in balance felt magnified, every step reverberated through my bones and muscles. At times it was overwhelming. I wasn't sure if it was a result of the body being genetically modified or just years of not having one that was the issue.

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Mira remained a patient and gentle teacher, correcting my posture and stride, offering encouragement when frustration mounted. Stewie, meanwhile, contributed by collapsing into fits of laughter whenever I toppled over, which was often.

Laia watched with a blend of fascination and amusement. "It's like watching an infant learn," she commented, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Incredible that something as simple as walking could be so complex."

"It's not as easy as it looks," I grumbled, attempting to rise again.

Finally, after days of practice, my body began responding fluidly. Movements that had been awkward and jerky smoothed into something approaching grace. Even sitting became an achievement. Standing upright and balanced without conscious effort felt like a minor triumph.

"Think you're ready?" Mira asked softly, watching closely.

I nodded slowly. "I won't embarrass us too much now."

Stewie grinned. "We'll see about that."

Stepping onto the bustling marketplace of the outlaw station felt like plunging into an ocean of sensory overload. Voices, alien chatter, the clanking of metal on metal, laughter, bargaining with the noises merged into a tapestry of chaotic vitality. Scent struck me next: roasted meats, spice-heavy dishes from distant worlds, the scent of oil and coolant from countless ships docked nearby. My new body shivered involuntarily, the sensations nearly overwhelming. Even in my previous life, I hadn't experience sensations like this.

"You okay?" Mira asked softly, squeezing my arm reassuringly.

"It's… a lot," I admitted, adjusting slowly.

Stewie took a deep breath, savoring the aroma. "Smells delicious"

Mira gave him an amused look. "Your standards are slipping, My cooking smell better than this."

"Hey," he protested weakly, gesturing around. "I didn't say but atmosphere counts for something, doesn't it?"

She shook her head, turning to me. "Come on. First, we eat. You'll feel better once you've got something substantial in your system."

She led us to a vendor stall displaying trays of questionable-looking delicacies. Mira examined them sceptically, finally selecting a few skewers of grilled meats. "Acceptable," she announced, handing me one. "Not good, mind you—just acceptable."

Stewie rolled his eyes. "High praise coming from her."

We moved through the market, sampling foods, examining strange items for sale—everything from antique weapons and forbidden data-drives to unsettlingly organic-looking devices I dared not question the purpose of. My body adjusted steadily, beginning to enjoy rather than endure the sensations. Feeling the heat of the cooking fires on my skin, the cool brush of recycled air, the presence of other beings—it was intoxicating, even thrilling.

Eventually, Mira slowed, staring thoughtfully at a stall selling intricately carved jewelry. She lifted a delicate silver pendant shaped like entwined stars. "Look at this," she murmured, holding it up to catch the dim station light.

Stewie grinned, leaning in. "Pretty. Reminds me of jewellery on the old station"

"Something like that," she said quietly, eyes distant. "Just reminds me how much we've seen, how far we've come from the old days."

I looked around at the bustling market, absorbing it fully for the first time. "It's easy to forget sometimes, isn't it? Being aboard the Arbiter feels so different and isolated. Here, it's all real. Raw. Alive."

"Exactly," Mira said, slipping the pendant around her neck. "That's why it matters."

We walked further, slowly wandering through alleys filled with merchants hawking their exotic wares, past alien artisans and grimy black-market vendors who eyed us warily. Despite the occasionally questionable nature of the items, it was strangely comforting, familiar in its chaos.

Finally, as we prepared to return to the shuttle, Stewie stopped us at a small kiosk, eyes brightening.

"Hold up!" he shouted excitedly. "Look at this!"

It was a drone racing chassis, polished and clearly high-quality. He examined it reverently, tracing its contours.

"You're not still obsessing about that race, are you?" Mira teased.

Stewie gave her a mock-serious look. "That last race was amateur hour. I've got a reputation to salvage."

She sighed dramatically. "Let him have his toys, Laz."

I chuckled, feeling at ease for the first time since my arrival. "Go on then. Can't have you embarrassing the Arbiter's good name."

He immediately began negotiating with the vendor, eagerly haggling over price.

As we walked back toward the docking bay later, drone chassis on its way to the Arbiter, Mira glanced at me with a gentle smile. "How's the new body holding up?"

I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles well-used. "Better than expected, honestly. Feels more… alive."

"You know," she said softly, "it's good to have you here, actually here, not just watching us from behind cameras."

I paused, absorbing her words, feeling warmth spread through my chest. "It's good to be here."

And it was true. Despite the awkwardness, despite the struggles, for the first time since awakening as Lazarus, I felt genuinely present connected in a way I'd nearly forgotten was possible.