Jamaal lay strapped to the med bay chair, the restraints biting into his wrists and chest. The hum of the ship's medical systems filled the room, soft and sterile, but wrong—the sound of something designed to heal now bent toward crude surgery.

  Tomoko hovered over the console, sweat streaking her brow. She was overriding layers of security, one after the other. The Amira's voice droned overhead, calm and unfeeling.

  AMIRA OS:

  "Neuro-sync implant procedure requires senior officer authorization."

  Tomoko snapped, "Override with Jamaal Singh biometrics. Emergency protocol."

  The machine paused.

  AMIRA OS:

  "Override accepted. Warning: emergency insertion bypasses sedation and safety protocols. Proceeding is not recommended."

  Metal arms lowered with a hiss, surgical cutters whirring to life. Their sound was too high-pitched, like fine and tiny drills, but deeper, hungry. Jamaal clenched the restraints, jaw tight.

  "I never wanted this," he muttered, his voice rough. "Never wanted these things in me. Never wanted ports or sockets. Ty... he was always the one who thought this tech made us cool. Not me."

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  A bright light flickered above him. He turned his face away, heart hammering.

  "But if it brings him back... if it gives me even a chance to hear him again..." His throat closed, but he forced the words out. "Let's...do it."

  The cutter descended. Heat and pressure burned into his skull. The smell hit next—sharp, metallic, singed flesh. Jamaal gagged, head jerking against the restraints. The restraints held.

  His vision stuttered. For an instant, the ceiling wasn't there. He was looking down at himself from somewhere else. A laugh -Ty's laugh - flashed across his mind, bright and gone. His body shuddered, muscles spasming.

  AMIRA OS:

  "Insertion path compromised. Neural activity irregular. Recommend abort."

  "Keep going!" Tomoko barked, overriding again.

  The drill whined, sparks biting against his scalp. Jamaal's teeth clenched so hard he thought they'd crack. His fingers twitched, unresponsive to him now. Something cold slid under his skin, clicking against bone. Brain and machine, forced together.

  Jamaal gasped, the words raw: "Tomoko - plug me in. Before I lose my nerve."

  Tomoko's hands shook, but she moved fast, grabbing the jack cable.

  The port sealed with a metallic snap.

  For one suspended second, there was silence. Then the cable connected. Tomoko stepped away from the chair and gasped.

  Jamaal's eyes shot open wide, his back arched violently against the restraints, every muscle in his face straining as if drowning in the sea of system inputs.

  The room filled with the sound of him choking on air.