The Starfarer

by Petra Landon

  Sila hitched the blanket about her shoulders nervously, wishing she could read his expression more clearly. It was too dark to discern much except the glint in his eyes when he occasionally came into the path of the light seeping through the open archway.

  “Would you like more illumination?” he offered.

  Sila hesitated, conscious that all she had on was a blanket. She’d much prefer to be properly clothed before facing him in brighter light.

  “I can see as well if not better in the dark” he said, the guttural tones even.

  Sila flushed, perfectly comprehending what he meant to convey to her. Strange as it was, the Ur’quay seemed to share her ability, except it was clear that this male possessed formidable control over his mind. Much more than her, who he seemed to read like a book. Sila, never having met anyone with this advantage over her, didn’t know what to make of it — whether to be excited by the prospect, particularly when she had thought herself to be different from everyone, or afraid of his ability to read her mind.

  “You’re reading my thoughts again” she stammered out, a tad accusingly.

  “Did I not ask you to protect them, Terran?” he growled back in response.

  Unlike everyone else she had met in her life, Sila did not have to work to block him from her mind. He was an absolutely blank slate — she could hear nothing and sense nothing from him. Since stepping foot on this starship, her mind had been uncluttered, with only her thoughts for company. As far as Sila was concerned, it was the only saving grace of her entire ordeal.

  She glanced away, to pluck at her blanket again. “I don’t know how to.”

  Sila sighed, unutterably candid. On this topic, evasiveness would serve no purpose. “Not with you. You seem to hear my thoughts no matter what I do.”

  “I will teach you” he declared.

  Sila stared up at him, rendered speechless by his offer.

  “Do not worry. The blanket covers you well.”

  Before Sila could respond, he said something inaudible and the lights in the room brightened. Though not as harsh as the previous cell, it did allow her to clearly note his expression. She stood up to face him, blanket clutched tight. For the first in their acquaintance, she allowed her eyes to wander over him without fear. The large expanse of muscled bronze skin seemed flushed, a stark contrast to the scales on his lower body. His eyes studied her damp hair unblinkingly with an expression Sila found hard to decipher.

  “When will you send me back to the other cell?” she inquired diffidently.

  He cocked his head, clearly puzzled. “The other cell?”

  “The one where I was before. This one is much nicer.”

  “This is not a holding cell” he growled in outrage, the glitter in his eyes pronounced. “This is my rest-chamber” he informed her through gritted teeth.

  Despite the growls and palpable ire, he was careful to keep his distance. It reassured Sila immeasurably. Some of her natural effervescence reasserted itself.

  “Rest-chamber? Oh, you mean this is your room. It is very nice — much warmer than the cell, with a really nice shower. Thank you for letting me use it.”

  For the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncomfortable.

  “I apologize, Terran. We are not used to prisoners on this starship and did not anticipate that your species needs warmer temperatures and more frequent sustenance than us.”

  “Oh, I thought perhaps you did not feed your prisoners” she remarked guilelessly.

  The unblinking eyes zeroed in on her. “Ur’quay are signatories to a charter on the treatment of prisoners of war. We do not believe in starving them” he informed her regally.

  Sila stared at him, slack-jawed in shock. “Am I … are you saying that I’m a prisoner of war?” Her voice trembled with trepidation.

  “You are an inadvertent one” he acknowledged slowly. “When we autoported a sample of shtoal from your planet, you were accidently transported with it. We have never encountered your kind before, so our technology was not calibrated to avoid you.”

  Sila slumped down on the bed, attempting to make sense of his words. An accident, she mused dazedly. Was he saying that her predicament was the result of a mistake by the technologically advanced Ur’quay?

  He said nothing, meeting her gaze calmly. Looming over her, the striped and massive chest bare, his lower body encased in rippling scales and his thick hair damply brushed back, he seemed exotic and utterly unfamiliar. Sila attempted to tamp down her spurt of anxiety. Despite the alien appearance, he had given her no cause to fear him.

  “Shtoal?” she asked him, trying to make sense of the accident.

  “The porous dark rock that is not very hard” he explained.

  “Emtek … you wanted a sample of emtek.” Sila shook her head in confusion. No one had ever expressed any interest in emtek before, though it was essential to the practice of agriculture prevalent on her world. “My planet has plenty of it, we use it to build homes and … um … other things.” She fell silent.

  The First Commander stared at her intently as if to gauge what she had almost let slip. Regretting her loose tongue, Sila evaded his sharpened gaze, directing a surreptitious glance at the muscled male torso before her. He was curious about her, willing to answer her questions and seemed to mean her no harm. Despite her alarm and confusion, his demeanor continued to put her at ease. Her glance noted that his skin was still flushed and was developing a slight sheen all over. It was almost as if he was sweating.

  “It is too warm for me in this chamber” he explained, the guttural notes strong. “My body is not used to it. It will adapt and start regulating soon.”

  Sila flushed at his words. Then slowly, their intent sank in. He had warmed his room to make her more comfortable, she realized gratefully.

  She met his eyes. “Is that why you shed your skin?” she asked shyly, appreciative of his efforts.

  “My skin” he repeated, cocking his head in a way that was starting to become familiar.

  “Umm …” she gestured in some embarrassment at his upper torso, causing him to look down at his body in puzzlement.

  When he looked up again, Sila read amusement on his face for the first time — a glint in the exotic eyes, accompanied by a small quirk at the corners of his mouth.

  “What you call skin is my armor, Terran.”

  Sila stared at him speechlessly. She’d never heard of armor like this. To be fair, she’d only seen a few Alliance guards in armor before. And that armor had looked nothing like his. Neither had it fit like a second skin.

  “Ur’quay warriors wear close-fitting body armor at all times” he explained. “Our armor is as light-weight as attire, but also provides protection from diverse types of weaponry.”

  Sila stared mutely at the alien, the silence between them awkward for the first time. The First Commander studied her, his gaze searching.

  “Have you had enough sustenance?” He gestured at the containers on the table.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Your clothing is still damp, but the chamber is warm now. Change and meet me back here. I will teach you some simple exercises to help you shield your mind better.”

  Sila jumped off the bed with alacrity to head into the enclosure, her grip on the blanket convulsive. When she came back, attired in her work-suit with her hair tied back and the translation device pinned to one shoulder, he had unrolled his makeshift bedding further to create enough space for two to sit on comfortably. Cross-legged at one end of it, he gestured for her to make herself comfortable at the other. His damp hair was tied back in a braid now, but his chest still bare. The sheen on him seemed to have disappeared.

  Sila took a seat across from him to face him. “Has your Captain decided what is to become of me?” she asked him.

  “He will let us know of his decision soon” the First Commander stated, his eyes evading her gaze.

  Before Sila could imagine any dire reason for his uncharacteristic evasiveness, he reassured her
. “Do not worry, little Terran. No harm will come to you.”

  Sila took a deep breath. “Am I to stay in this room?”

  The gold eyes studied her. “Would you like to?” he inquired.

  “Yes, if I could” she replied, after a moment of hesitation and indecision.

  “Then, you may.”

  t

  “First Commander” Sila, eyes closed and brow furrowed in intense concentration, inquired. “Could you show me around your ship sometime? Or perhaps, if you’re too busy, I can walk around by myself. I’ve never been on a starship before.”

  The Mind Examiner device he had synthesized for her beeped before the First Commander could respond to her request. It lay between them on the bedding, as they sat cross-legged at either end.

  “You are getting better but you have to stop trying so hard” he remarked, a note of approval in his voice. “Once you have set up the shields successfully, you must let go. Trust the barriers to protect your mind.”

  Mild as the commendation was, Sila was pleased. When the First Commander was away, which was most of the time, Sila practiced shielding her mind with the Examiner, focusing fiercely on the basic exercises he taught her. Now keenly aware of the Ur’quay’s impressive mental abilities, she was determined to prevent her thoughts from projecting inadvertently. It would be a long time before she could safeguard her mind from any species with the ability to mind-scan but at least, her stray thoughts wouldn’t drift in space for every mind-reader to sift through.

  He reached for the Examiner to calibrate it for the next set of exercises, his every movement fluid and graceful. “I will show you around the ship tomorrow.”

  He doesn’t trust me. Where will I run to on this ship even if I wanted to?

  “It is not a matter of trust, little Terran.” He did not look up from his task. “Among my people, it is a crime to project your thoughts. I have set up shields around this chamber. But if you wander around the ship, the other Ur’quay might hear you.”

  “Oh” Sila mumbled, taken aback. She had not realized that this chamber was configured to protect her privacy from the others on this starship. Or that such a thing was even possible. The Ur’quay on this starship possessed extraordinary mental abilities, both to read others and to protect their minds. If the First Commander’s warnings had not made that clear, his ability to read her despite her best efforts certainly did.

  That he had taken care to protect her thoughts from drifting into the orbit of his shipmates did not surprise Sila. Not after spending the last four days in his chamber. Somewhat aloof and decidedly taciturn, he had nonetheless proved a surprisingly easygoing roommate. He worked long hours and spent most of his time between shifts resting, so Sila had the run of the chamber for the most part. Thus far, they had managed to cohabitate without much awkwardness. Once Sila had become aware of his schedule, she made sure to get showers and other awkward chores like washing and drying her work-suit done while he was away.

  It had taken a wary Sila a few days to come to terms with her odd living situation. But he had left her alone, content to allow her to adapt in her own time. To her surprise, the First Commander had proved a surprisingly restful male, in stark contrast to her first impression of him. That first time in the holding cell, the scales on his armor rippling and undulating with every movement of his body had made him seem constantly in motion, predatory and threatening, adding to her overall terror and panic. This was not the only opinion of him Sila had been forced to reconsider. He was patient with her, a good tutor when it came to her ability, and attentive to her needs. He was also slow to anger — she had never seen any sign of his ire since being forced to share his chamber with him.

  But nothing could alleviate Sila’s boredom. Each day was spent locked up in this room. She had enough food, a comfortable, warm bed and access to the shower enclosure. And while she had thrown herself into learning to protect her mind, it was not enough to occupy her. Her people were hard-working farmers and gatherers whose daily tasks kept them busy from morn till dusk. This enforced inactivity made her antsy, and occasionally scared her witless, in the lonely hours of the long days. Doubts about the mysterious Ur’quay’s intentions and dire thoughts of her fate at their hands plagued her constantly.

  All interaction with the First Commander was reserved for his longest rest period. After resting in their respective places — she on the bed and he on the floor — he’d tutor her on building mental shields. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, they would face each other and work on exercises to safeguard her mind. He taught her a new exercise each day, calibrating the Examiner device for her to practice with when he was away. As her wariness of him eroded away gradually, Sila had begun to let her inner curiosity loose to ask him questions.

  “When do you eat, First Commander?” she inquired curiously. “I’ve never seen you take anything from the container.” She’d observed that he took care to top up the water and food every day when he came in from his last shift, but he never touched the contents, as far as she could tell.

  “That is for you. Ur’quay have adapted to less frequent sustenance. We get slow release capsules every four days when we start our duty rotations.”

  “Adapted?” she probed, watching him reconfigure the Examiner.

  “When warriors go into battle, sometimes it is necessary to go for long periods without regular sustenance. Our bodies have evolved to accept sustenance when available, store it and release it slowly as needed. There has also been a shortage of food on my world for a few generations. Thus, even though the starship is capable of synthesizing enough sustenance for our mission, food is still rationed and doled out periodically to allow our bodies to handle it as we are used to.”

  “Food is rationed on this ship” she exclaimed in some alarm. “Why did you not tell me? I could survive on much less.”

  He looked up from fiddling with the device. His lips quirked in the familiar way she was beginning to understand signified amusement.

  “You barely eat anything, little Terran. I give you a tiny portion of my daily allowance. It is so little that I do not even notice its absence.”

  She stared at the big alien seated across from her, his attention focused on programming the device for her. Sudden tears sprang to life in Sila’s eyes at his unexpected generosity and kindness. She had spent so much time terrified of the strange starship and fearful of how the aliens would treat her that she’d completely overlooked the hospitality and consideration shown to her by the single captor she’d met so far. He’d barely even been a jailor at that. Except for restricting her movements, first in the cell and then in this room, he had attempted to address all of her needs as soon as he became aware of them. And she was beginning to realize that the restrictions on movement had been for her own protection.

  He stared at her with the unblinking eyes, the Examiner device forgotten. “Are you upset, little Terran?” he said urgently, alarmed by her distress. “Do not be. I give you my word that we will find a way to return you to your world unharmed.”

  Sila hastily brushed away a large teardrop that seemed in imminent danger of slipping out from her eye. She had never been the crying kind. Her people came from hardy stock. They had to, to survive on the harsh and rustic planet they called home. She’d survived losing her parents and the mate the community had chosen for her without despairing. She’d been frightened out of her wits on finding herself aboard a strange space ship, captured by a race of legendary warriors known for their aggression and ruthlessness in battle. And had still not succumbed to tears. Thus, to be brought to tears by a simple act of compassion was not to be borne.

  “Sseela.” The gold eyes looked troubled, as he growled her name in his unique way. “Do not be sad. I assure you that I do not miss the sustenance I share with you.”

  Sila chuckled through the tears. He had read her thoughts to arrive at the incorrect conclusion about the reason for her distress.

  “Come, I will take you on a tour of the Henia an
d you will feel better” he declared.

  Her face lit up with momentary pleasure, until her eyes fell on the Examiner in his hand.

  “I would like that very much, First Commander” she sighed softly, her voice colored by regret. “But we will have to wait a little longer. I cannot successfully shield my mind yet.”

  He contemplated her, his expression opaque.

  “If you allow me, I can help you shield your mind” he offered, somewhat hesitantly.

  Her eyes widened. “You can do that! Is that allowed on your world?”

  “It is frowned upon, so we will keep it between us” he replied, his unusual eyes on her.

  Sila acquiesced with alacrity, only too happy for an opportunity to venture out of the confines of the room her life now revolved around.

  t

  “Why is helping to shield another’s thoughts frowned upon on your world?” Sila asked curiously.

  It was the next evening and she was seated across from the First Commander, watching him calibrate the Examiner device. She had almost mastered a handful of the exercises he’d taught her, and she kept plugging away at the others every day.

  He glanced up to meet her eyes, opening his mouth to say something, before looking down again to continue the calibration.

  “It is considered a very intimate experience for both entities” he said succinctly.

  “Oh.” Sila flushed. She had felt a little strange when the First Commander had assisted her yesterday by extending his mental shields to help shore up hers. It had almost felt like the whisper of a caress to her mind — she’d shivered a little at the sensation. Sila had sensed his sharp glance at her reaction but had chosen to ignore it. She’d put the strange sensation down to never having experienced anyone touch her mind like this. Though he’d been careful to dance around the periphery of her mind, she’d felt the occasional inadvertent butterfly touches.

  A heavy silence descended on the room.

  “Thank you again for the tour of your starship yesterday” she said a little desperately, trying to puncture the unexpected strain between them.