The Starfarer

by Petra Landon

  “What kind are you?” He shook his head with a sharp flick, to try again. “What species?”

  “Terran” she responded with more confidence, her eyes on the scales that covered his body.

  The guttural sounds of his tongue, so strange to her, were becoming easier to comprehend as her ears adapted to them. Plus, the translator helped by smoothing them out. As the conversation continued and the male’s questions displayed more curiosity than any intent to intimidate or threaten, Sila found herself agog with questions for the huge alien. It was sheer fright that held her tongue-tied.

  To her, he looked extraordinarily alien. Massive and muscular, his strapping body was covered in scales the same color as the thick pelt of hair that hung down his back. Strange-looking instruments covered one muscular arm and a hefty wrist. She suspected they were weapons of some kind. His face and palms were marked by faint vertical stripes on bronze-colored skin, the fingers of his hand connected to the base by a web-like spike of skin. The gold eyes, bright and unblinking, catalogued her every movement. He moved like a predator — deliberate, measured and determined. He had been careful with her. She was beginning to understand that, as her anxiety slowly ratcheted down. But every sharp flick of his hair, each guttural word out of his mouth, and every cock of his head reminded her that she was at the mercy of these powerful-looking aliens. Even the tiniest movement of his big body caused his scales to ripple like the surface of a clear pond, shimmering and dancing in a bright undulating wave — reminding her that she knew nothing about the aliens or why they had captured her or even what they intended for her.

  He cocked his head again, a gesture that signaled his curiosity. He had never heard of her species. There had been no references to Terrans in the detailed journals their starfaring ancestors had left behind of their foray into this part of the galaxy centuries ago. And while the Ur’quay had learnt more about Sector Araloka in the months spent here, their knowledge was limited.

  “Terran” he repeated thoughtfully. “Are you part of the Kampuchan Alliance?”

  “I … think so. The Alliance claimed our planet three rotations ago, though no representative has ever stepped foot on it since. There’s nothing of value on my world” she stated simply.

  Zh’hir stared at her. This was the longest sentence she had volunteered so far. Her apprehension and misgivings were in slow retreat — it was time he delivered a blunt warning.

  “Why are you projecting your thoughts?” he asked abruptly.

  This time, her response was to gaze at him in utter incomprehension.

  “I can read your thoughts. You called out to someone named Goddess. And presumed that I would treat you as my next meal.” The last sentence was spoken with palpable emotion. The implied insult had not yet lost its sting for him.

  His words seemed to stun her. Her eyes flashed to him, her alarming circumstances temporarily forgotten.

  “You … you heard my thoughts” she exclaimed, amazed and puzzled by his statement. For once, Sila’s astonishment took precedence over her wariness of him. She straightened, her face reflecting her wonder; fear superseded by consternation at his revelation.

  He nodded brusquely, his eyes noting the tell-tale signs of her receding fear.

  “On my world, I’m the only one with the ability to read others’ thoughts. I’ve always assumed that I was different” she offered artlessly.

  “On my world, it is a crime punishable by death if you read another’s thoughts without permission” he bit out acerbically, intending to drive his warning home.

  “Oh, I would never do that” she assured him. “I can block out everyone — I’d never have survived with all the voices in my head otherwise.”

  “Make sure that you are careful” he warned her. “Even an unintentional attempt at touching the mind of another is considered a crime.”

  She nodded, her expression earnest. Her big green eyes stared into his strange gold ones for a moment, before looking away.

  “What do you intend to do with me?” She finally asked the question that she most feared the answer to.

  “That will be up to my Captain” he said shortly.

  His bicep beeped abruptly to interrupt them, a timely reminder that his duty rotation started in ten minutes.

  My Goddess, they can read my thoughts. But how — I’ve never heard of a race of mind-readers?

  They will kill me. Or perhaps, sell me to the slavers.

  As despair assailed her once more, the big warrior’s eyes snapped to her in fury, his gold gaze with the slit-like pupils piercing her.

  “We are Ur’quay — feared and respected across the galaxy. We do not mistreat our prisoners” he declared angrily. “Nor do we condone slavery.”

  Sila blinked, flabbergasted by his words. This had been a day full of shocks and revelations.

  Ur’quay! Bless the Goddess, aren’t they extinct? Or pure myth?

  The supposedly extinct alien narrowed his extraordinary eyes at her. Sila gaped at him. On her world, tales still abounded of the mighty Ur’quay, feted as warriors with extraordinary strength and mysterious abilities. And even though no Ur’quay had been sighted for centuries in this corner of space, paeans about their fierceness and prowess in battle continued to be sung on most Aralokan worlds. As her wondering eyes took in the massive male with the shimmering, scaly body and strange eyes, Sila sent up another silent prayer to the Goddess.

  O Goddess, I’m in so much trouble.

  This short-tempered one can snap my neck with a single twist of those arms!

  The short-tempered male was moved to glare at her, irritated, exasperated and puzzled by her chaotic and insulting thoughts that continued to spear him in waves.

  Watch over me, O Goddess! And help him with his anger issues, please, I ask of you.

  Zh’hir brought his raging temper under control, as his fair-minded self asserted itself. She was merely in shock, he reminded himself. Much like the other Aralokans would be, if they ever discovered that the Ur’quay had returned to their old stomping grounds after abandoning them for centuries.

  “Mind your thoughts, Terran” he said impassively as he turned to exit the cell.

  t

  Star Captain Pe’luk strode into the Command Chamber, an hour into Zh’hir’s shift.

  “First Commander” the Captain greeted him warmly.

  “Star Captain” Zh’hir returned his Captain’s greeting, his voice tinged with affection. This was the last mission he would be serving under Pe’luk before the Star Captain was slated to retire. Zh’hir would have command of the starship Henia on her next mission and was acutely aware of how sorely he’d miss his Captain and mentor. Two decades separated the two Ur’quay males. The bonds of friendship, developed fourteen rotations ago when Pe’luk had taken an interest in a new recruit orphaned by the Ten Year Famine that had devastated the rural hinterlands, had only strengthened over time.

  “Are we done testing the latest shtoal samples?”

  “Yes, Star Captain. The quality of shtoal is average but there is an abundance of it on the planet. It might be worth a mining mission in the future.”

  “Any indications of life on the planet?”

  “It is populated” Zh’hir said slowly, the unexpected meeting with the Terran female still fresh in his mind.

  “Alliance?” his Captain inquired.

  It was a fair assumption for the Star Captain to make. They’d been running clandestine reconnaissance in Sector Araloka for months now. Their foray had indicated a bloody civil war between two major powers — the Kampuchan Alliance and the Budh-Ketaari Empire. Most civilizations and worlds seemed to have allied themselves with one or the other, their decision driven by the elemental desire to survive. The Ur’quay surmised that few in Sector Araloka had the resources and military might to remain neutral, without being overrun. Both Alliance and Empire safeguarded their territory with the deployment of sophisticated border security nets. The Ur’quay, even with their advanced technology
, had been unable to penetrate the Empire’s net without raising an alarm. Since their mandate for this mission was strictly to survey and not engage, except in self-defense, the Star Captain had decreed that they would survey neutral and Alliance territory first before making any further attempts on Empire-protected space.

  “The planet lies in space unprotected by the Alliance security net. But it is claimed by the Alliance, though no representative has set foot there for three rotations. My guess is that the planet is not worth their time or resources to protect.”

  “You are thorough as usual, First Commander” Pe’luk responded with a pleased smile.

  “This time I had assistance, Star Captain. When the shtoal sample was autoported from the planet, we also inadvertently gained a prisoner. A young female who goes by the name of Sseela Gatherer.”

  “We have a female prisoner!” Pe’luk exclaimed in surprise. “What species is she?”

  “Terran.”

  “Never heard of them. Ur’quay do not get many opportunities to meet other species, except in battle.”

  Zh’hir sighed inwardly at the implication of his Captain’s words. Once, the starfaring Ur’quay had been reputed across the galaxy as both fearsome warriors and fearless explorers. They had travelled far and wide to explore other worlds, civilizations and cultures, bolstered by their technology, military arsenal and prowess on the battlefield to go where others feared to tread. But now, they were an almost-forgotten species desperately clinging to the old ways and obsessively insisting on segregation to preserve their culture. Until this mission, he reminded himself. Like the Star Captain and his First Commander, many Ur’quay were hoping that this expedition would be the precursor to a more aggressive outreach — praying it would bring an end to the isolation that had brought their civilization to the brink.

  “What do you suggest we do with her?” the Star Captain asked him.

  “We could autoport her to her world if we head back at some point.”

  The Star Captain said nothing, contemplating Zh’hir calmly. They both knew that this ship was no abode, even a temporary one, for an alien female unaccustomed to their ways.

  “The female is rather puny and fragile. She will not survive for long if we drop her off at a space dock” Zh’hir explained circumspectly to his Captain. Space docks were lawless and dangerous, especially for someone who could not fend for herself. She was no warrior — he had felt her terror as she lay incarcerated in the holding cell. And she was a prisoner on his starship for no fault of hers. Zh’hir would rather no harm come to her for what was essentially an Ur’quay mistake.

  The Star Captain studied him thoughtfully before announcing his decision.

  “I leave it to you, First Commander. In any case, you will soon be making all the decisions on the Henia.”

  The Captain moved on swiftly to a discussion of other matters. While his First Commander attempted to shove to the back of his mind the nagging thought that he was duty bound to bring the female’s mind-reading abilities to his Captain’s attention.

  t

  The First Commander found his thoughts drifting to the Terran as he neared the end of a long shift. He wondered idly how she fared and hoped his brief conversation with her had managed to allay some of her fears.

  The just concluded shift had been rather successful. They had discovered a planet with shtoal reserves. On approach for a closer scan with their sophisticated sensors, they had come under attack from Alliance ships guarding it. The Captain had put his First Commander in charge of successfully repelling the ships while getting the Henia close enough to take scans of the planet for further analysis. The feat had proved easy enough, for the starship Henia was primarily a warship equipped with powerful offensive and defensive capabilities, including a cloaking mechanism that rendered it invisible to others. Zh’hir had avoided using the powerful weapons by exploiting the starship’s slick maneuverability and the ability to cloak at the press of a control button.

  The First Commander reflected with quiet satisfaction on the successful acquisition of resource and population scans of the target planet as well as sensor readings of the Alliance ships guarding it. Ur’quay were primarily a warrior race and his officers had been eager for a skirmish. But they were good soldiers who recognized the significance and gravity of this mission and understood that their current directive to gather data and evade battles made any chances of action on this expedition low.

  Four of their most sophisticated starships had been dispatched to different corners of the galaxy on this mission. Four centuries of isolation and obsessive focus on their warrior culture to the exclusion of all else had wrought many changes and some unexpected side-effects on the Ur’quay. There had been a loss of certain skills within their population. The lack of new trading partners had caused its own problems. Without trade, they were left with a surplus of certain resources and a severe lack of others. Although technological advancements had continued, albeit at a much slower pace, their population was in decline with the ratio of female to male Ur’quay at an all-time low. In desperation, the High Council had finally deemed it necessary to relax their segregationist policies for the survival of their species. The data brought back by the four starships sent on this mission of exploration and survey was to be used to determine the best course of action for the future of the Ur’quay.

  No echoes of a feminine Terran voice rang in his mind as he strode towards his rest-chamber. Zh’hir counted that as a sign that she’d taken his warning to heart. Yet, a niggling inner voice urged him to be sure. Heeding that voice, he lowered his mental shields as he neared his rest-chamber. The Terran’s thoughts slammed into him the moment his barriers had thinned. The last time, her cries had been fearful and panic-stricken, her terror drenching him in its wake. This time, she seemed rambling and incoherent, but also curiously sanguine.

  Check the shaku plants; need more water and less light. Check the hantu trees; only bloom at low temperature.

  Check the minua saplings; the moisture content must be regulated. Check the yanzu fruits; ripen only during high tide of the Meklen river.

  What in the blazes of the High Mountain Deity, Zh’hir wondered in bemusement, breaking into a dead run towards the holding cells. The alien female’s thoughts made no sense to him. However, she would definitely get in trouble if anyone else picked up her loud mind. He came to an abrupt halt before her cell, even as her incomprehensible ramblings continued to echo through him. The cell sat plunged in darkness. As he switched to his night eyes, he could see her in a corner, huddled on the floor. Zh’hir disengaged the cell’s energy shield to step into it, as the harsh overhead lights flickered on abruptly. She appeared to wince a little, scrunching up her eyes, but otherwise lay unmoving. All the while, her mind kept repeating the little ditty as if desperate to hold on to some semblance of reality.

  He moved closer, bending down to a crouch. She lay inert, her eyes closed. He stared at her, puzzled by her comatose state. She still wore the translator he’d affixed to her shoulder. And he attempted to communicate, hoping to get through to her despite whatever ailed her.

  “Sseela … Sseela! Can you hear me?” he inquired urgently.

  After a few frantic attempts, she responded with a murmur that sounded vaguely like ‘tired’.

  Tired, he wondered in consternation. They’d not asked her to do any physical labor. She had been incarcerated in the holding cell doing absolutely nothing since her capture. Something didn’t seem right here! He looked her over again, more carefully this time, wishing he understood her physiology better. The soft skin of her face looked subtly different from when he’d last seen her. He cocked his head, thinking furiously. Reaching for her, he carefully skimmed her face with the tip of a blunt finger. She remained listless at his touch. He frowned, his eyes wondering over her face. The lush lips he’d noticed before looked dry and cracked.

  The first signs of comprehension burst in on him abruptly. She is dehydrated, you dolt, he admonished hims
elf. And probably starving to boot! Ur’quay bodies had evolved over generations to go long stretches without water or other sustenance — the evolution a natural step in a race of warriors and explorers. Ur’quay warriors possessed the ability to gorge before battles, only for their bodies to store and release the nutrition slowly as required. This diminutive female probably had no such adaptation and had slowly been starving in her cell due to their neglect.

  Zh’hir reached for his communicator to ping the junior warrior on the ship – he was in charge of portioning their food and doling out the rations to his shipmates on a periodic basis. The Ur’quay home world faced acute food shortages. As a result, everyone had been put on strict synthesized food rations.

  “Enlist Mh’hir, please bring some water and liquid nutrition to the holding cells” he directed urgently into his device.

  He cast a glance at the slight body lying defenseless on the floor.

  “Just a small amount from my rationed portion will do.”

  “Immediately, First Commander” the young warrior acknowledged, not allowing even a hint of curiosity to enter his voice.

  As he signed off, Zh’hir gazed down at the Terran female. She was in no condition to guard her thoughts. He could protect her mind easily by extending his shields to her, but he was reluctant to perform the service for her. Enlist Mh’hir would probably not hear her if his mental barriers were properly up as they should be, he told himself. It was a risky gamble though. If discovered, the penalty for her would be death. He stared down at her still form, all the life and warmth seemingly extinguished from the jewel-bright eyes and the agile mind he had sensed. Even her brightly-colored hair fanned listlessly around her. The color reminded him of the beautiful sunsets on the crystal-clear lakes of Mahonet he’d seen many rotations ago, when his father had taken him on a visit. It was this inconsequential memory that tipped Zh’hir to make the impulsive decision to extend his mental shields to her. His people used this between parent and a not-yet-fully-trained child. It was also occasionally used between baithoni during intimacy.