by Stella Cassy
“You don't have to face it on your own now,” Dashel said. “You have me.”
“And I know that, and I appreciate it. I always will. But it's not the same, you know? I'm worried I'll lose my grip on where I came from, the place that made me who I am. I can't just drop all that and suddenly consider myself a Hielsrane. And even if I could, no one else would ever let me get away with that. Out here among the stars, I'll always be a human surrounded by aliens. That's why I'm so scared that I'll never see Earth again, Dashel, if you really want to know. That's why it's so important for me to feel my home planet under my feet, if only one last time. To say goodbye to it, make my peace, get some closure. But I guess all this mushy, touchy-feely, navel-gazing stuff probably seems silly and self-indulgent to a race of space dragon conquerors, huh?”
“'Navel-gazing?'” He peered down at my bellybutton, confused.
I laughed. “It's just a figure of speech. It means useless introspection.”
I could tell Dashel was considering my words carefully. Finally, he said, “I am looking forward to sharing the rest of my life with you, Natalie. You're a wonderful mate, not to mention a strong and clever ally. With you by my side, I am confident that we will be able to overcome any obstacle the universe can throw at us.” He paused, then added, “That said, I'm sure you're figured out for yourself by now that there will be many such obstacles. It was pointed out to me recently that when a human and a Hielsrane choose to mate and raise children together, from a cultural standpoint, there are inherent difficulties. Ones which cannot be taken lightly.”
“I suppose I can guess who pointed that out to you,” I replied wryly.
He nodded. “Our life together will be a happy one, I'm sure, but it will not necessarily be an easy one. Many will look down on us and criticize our union. And when our younglings are born, they too will be objects of pity and ridicule. They will not 'fit in', at least not until they've proven themselves, which I'm confident they will, in time,” he added quickly. “Still, we will need to stand united always, come what may. We will need to let go of all doubts and fears and be our best selves for each other. So if visiting Earth one last time is what you will require in order to do that, I will do everything I can to make that happen before our young are born.”
“And if the fleet won't allow it?” I wanted to let myself feel excitement and happiness, but I knew I couldn't afford to get my hopes up.
He grinned. “Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I don't relish the idea of trying to chart an independent course for the Sol system with a squadron of Hielsrane vessels trying to blow us to cinders for making an unauthorized trip into restricted space. But if that's what it comes down to...”
Stal poked his head back in, scowling. “When I offered to give you two some time alone in my sickbay, I didn't mean you should move in here together. I have other patients to attend to, and I can't do that while I'm standing out in the corridor, twiddling my claws and waiting for you to finish your little heart-to-heart. Now get out!”
A short while later, we were in Dashel's cabin, and he was attempting to reach Tarion on the vidscreen. The Gyygnar had recombined into a single ship again – its training maneuvers had concluded, and it hung outside the window, standing watch over Nort the way the dragons of Earth legend jealously guarded their vast chambers of gold and jewels.
At last, Tarion's fearsome visage appeared on the screen. “Dashel. My people said this communication was urgent. What's on your mind?”
“A trip to Earth,” Dashel answered quickly. “As soon as possible.”
Tarion raised an eyebrow. “We only just discussed this less than a day ago. I haven't even had a chance to forward your request to the fleet admirals, let alone plead your case to them. Why is this matter suddenly so time-sensitive?”
“It's...difficult to explain,” Dashel said.
Tarion leaned back in his seat, steepling his claws. “Try.”
“Natalie has expressed a strong desire to see Earth again before our offspring are born. Waiting until after it happens would only make such a journey more complicated and difficult. Leaving them behind while we travel would be immensely problematic and bringing them with us would raise too many questions, since they will not yet be old enough to fully control their forms.”
“Indeed. It might raise a few eyebrows among the humans if you two walk around holding a pair of large lizards wearing bibs and bonnets,” Tarion chortled. “But surely, such concerns are outweighed by the safety of the children themselves as birthing-time approaches. What if she goes into labor on Earth, far from our medical resources? That would endanger her life, and the infants' as well.”
“We can equip the Wyvern with the necessary equipment, so she can be rushed back to the ship in the event that labor commences,” Dashel countered. I appreciated how diligently he was pleading my case – I knew he was intimidated by Tarion. “And I can have the relevant information on human-Drakon birthing procedures downloaded to Stal's medical database, so he can study it and be prepared for that eventuality.”
Tarion barked out a laugh. “Stal will love that, I'm sure. Still, I must say, I'm perplexed by your need to make this pilgrimage now, instead of waiting a few years. What's your hurry, Dashel? What aren't you telling me?”
Dashel took a deep breath. “Just recently, you reminded me that Natalie and I will have a difficult time ahead of us, as we strive for acceptance among the Hielsrane. I took your advice quite seriously, Tarion – as I always have.”
“I enjoy having my tail kissed as much as the next dragon,” Tarion said, “but flattery won't make me more inclined to grant your request.”
Dashel looked over at me, then returned his gaze to the screen. “Natalie is the strongest individual I've ever known. But even so, it will take all of her reserves to summon the fortitude for what lies ahead. I believe that she will best be able to replenish those reserves by re-connecting with her home planet, if only briefly. I believe that will be important before facing the times to come.”
Tarion grunted grudgingly. “You may be right, Dashel. Very well. But first, you must make me a promise: From this point forward, whenever our crews interact, Natalie must be kept far away from Carissa. Preferably, two or three star systems away, if possible. I'm not eager to see a rematch between those two.”
I spoke up: “For what it's worth, Tarion, neither am I. I don't want any more trouble between us – and I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused her in the past, though I doubt she'll ever be prepared to hear that, let alone forgive me for it. So I can give you my word that I'll do everything I can to avoid her from now on.”
“In that case,” Tarion replied with a nod in my direction, “even though it's highly unorthodox, I'll grant your request and square it with the fleet admirals myself.”
“Thank you,” Dashel said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I know they won't be happy about it. I hope they won't take the Gyygnar from you because of it.”
“They're welcome to try.” Tarion bared his fangs in a grin. “I'll have our stellar cartographers chart a course from here to the third planet of the Sol system. There'll be a lot of zigs and zags, but it should keep you hidden from the humans' long-range star-charting devices...and hopefully, from Pax sensors as well. Do not deviate from the course you are given under any circumstances. If this impulsive little jaunt of yours results in any negative consequences, you will certainly lose your command. And for that matter, so will I, which will have been a terrible way for you to repay me for granting this favor. Are we clear?”
“Absolutely,” Dashel answered without hesitation.
“I'll have the relevant obstetric data transferred to your sickbay's computers,” Tarion continued, “and perhaps we can even send over a medical assistant who's had experience with these sorts of things, though if I were you, I wouldn't get my hopes up. Lehar and I will remain in orbit around Nort, in case the Alliance decides they want to try to take it back. Meanwhile, I hereby grant permission for you to leave
orbit in precisely twenty-four hours. Safe travels, Dashel, and do not make me regret this.”
“I won't.” Dashel saluted. “Thank you, sir.”
And with that, Tarion leaned forward, hitting the comm button with his claw and disappearing from the screen.
Dashel turned to me with a smile. “Looks like we're going to Earth.”
28
Dashel
Since we weren't traveling in anything resembling a straight line, the trip from Nort to the Sol system in the so-called “Milky Way” galaxy took several long and arduous months. (Leave it to a planet of talking mammals to name their space sector after their lactation process, I thought ruefully.)
The Wyvern carefully clung to the course we'd been given by Tarion's people – hiding within nebulas and asteroid belts whenever possible, closely following the hulking forms of comets so we could conceal ourselves in their trails, or hopping between black holes and other anomalies which confused long-range telescopes and sensors.
These detours were necessary, but there was a fascinating cosmic beauty in them, too. Swirls of color and light, clouds of gas and ice and eternally burning flame, half-exploded moons which hung forever frozen in the throes of their own destruction. Celestial bodies which went nova in brilliant flashes, planetary rings composed of billions of glittering diamonds, strings of rock interlocked across entire star systems like the gargantuan spinal columns of long-dead gods.
I shared all of these astonishing sights with Natalie, my arm wrapped tightly around her waist as we stood in front of the window or the viewscreen on the command deck. I wanted to show her that, although the galaxy was a dangerous place for the uninitiated, it could be a magical and enchanting one too. She seemed impressed by many of the natural phenomena, her eyes dancing with the endless possibilities for beauty and wonder that the universe had to offer.
Yes, I could give her a final trip to Earth – but through these daily sightings, I demonstrated that I could give her the stars too, in all of their infinite mystery.
As we made our way to her home planet, she schooled me thoroughly on Earth customs and protocols – or at least, she tried to. They didn't come easily to me. The behavior of humans seemed so unnecessarily complicated, ritualistic, and obtuse. They never seemed to come right out and say what they meant. There was always some elaborate social compact which needed to be observed, and sometimes, trying to memorize them infuriated me.
No wonder these creatures were barely able to coordinate the effort to leave their own planet, let alone explore their solar system! They were too busy talking around each other in circles, or bending over backwards to hide their true emotions and desires! And those who did deal with each other in a straightforward fashion were considered rude pests at best, or criminals at worst!
“Why don't these people of yours just do what they want, say what they want, and take what they want?!” I roared one day during a particularly disastrous lesson. “What is the need for all of this tact and subterfuge, when it guarantees that even the simplest interactions and exchanges take twenty times as long as they need to?”
“Because if everyone on Earth behaved that way,” Natalie explained, trying to remain patient, “society as a whole would fall into chaos and anarchy.”
“The Hielsrane Empire has proceeded in such a fashion for countless centuries, and not only has our 'society' remained fully intact, it's a model of simplicity by comparison. The strong prevail, and as such, they dictate the lives of the weak. That's it. The entirety of civilization doesn't grind to a halt every few cleks so the wants and needs of every individual, regardless of their status, can be addressed and respected.”
“Minutes,” she corrected, “not cleks. Trust me, that's not the kind of mistake you want to make down on the surface. And you might recall, it was a system much like the one you're describing that made me a slave.”
“Precisely!” I agreed, leaping up from my seat and pointing a claw at her in vindication. “And look at you now! You honed your toughness, cunning, and adaptability in captivity to prove that you were worthy of rising to a higher station. That is what the weak do when they wish to replace the strong. They earn the right to do so, and if they can't muster the will to succeed, then they remain where they are. That is the natural order of things.”
“Let's, um, table our discussion of Earth politics for now,” Natalie suggested, clearing her throat, “and go back to something a bit easier. If anyone comments on your scales, what medical condition do you tell them you have?”
“Ick-thee-oh-sis vul-gar-iss,” I sounded out with difficulty.
“Correct.”
“And this is some sort of disease that gives human DNA reptilian traits?” I guessed.
She laughed. “No, it has nothing to do with genetic makeup, it's purely cosmetic. It just makes human flesh look tough and scaly due to collections of dead skin cells. On my world, human and reptilian DNA are entirely incompatible, which is why this whole pregnancy situation came as such as surprise,” she added. “The good news is that it's an inherited dermal disorder. So if we ever end up taking our children to see their mother's home world, they'll be able to claim the same thing, since they'll have gotten it from you.”
“We shall see,” I retorted. “Getting permission to make this journey once is difficult enough, but to make a habit of it would be...”
Before I could finish my sentence, though, the voice of the helmsman came over the comm: “Captain Dashel, please come to the command deck immediately.”
Natalie and I exchanged worried looks before hurrying to the command deck together.
“What is it, lieutenant?” I asked.
“We're approaching the edge of the Sol system,” the helmsman reported, “but there's a ship on its way out of it, and it's heading straight for us.”
I frowned. “Humans? Have they figured out a way to travel the stars after all?”
“Negative, sir. Based on the energy signature its engine drive is giving off, it's definitely a Pax retrieval craft.”
“On their way back with more slaves they've scooped off the planet's surface, no doubt,” I mused quietly. “Have they picked us up on their sensors yet?”
“I'm afraid so, sir. At this range, there's no way they wouldn't have and based on their current course, I'd say they mean to engage us. Based on our readings, they're powering up their weapons systems. Should we do likewise?”
I shook my head. “We can't risk an open altercation with them, especially not within range of the Earthers' telescopic arrays. Damn it, this is exactly the kind of thing Tarion ordered us to avoid. Are there any good hiding places for us out here? Ones where the Pax sensors won't be able to locate us?”
“Scanning for one now, sir.”
I could feel Natalie's tension building next to me, and I understood why. The last time she'd encountered one of these ships, it had beamed her and her husband up and transported them to a hellish life on Nort. Clearly, she had no desire to repeat the experience.
I reached out, squeezing her hand in mine. “Don't worry,” I assured her. “I won't let them take you again.”
She smiled at me, relieved, but her body was still vibrating with tension.
“Captain, I think I've got something,” the helmsman announced. “A dark cloud nebula in a cluster of stars the Earthers refer to as Orion.”
“Bring it up onscreen. Let's see it.”
When the swirling mass of red and blue appeared on the viewscreen, Natalie whispered, “The Horsehead Nebula. I've seen pictures of it in books.”
“Well, you're about to see it up close.” I turned to the helmsman. “You're sure that will obscure us effectively, lieutenant?”
“I'm fairly certain, sir, yes. Its density will swallow all light from objects positioned behind it, essentially making us invisible at all levels within the visual spectrum. And since dark nebulas are spawning grounds for stars, the intense stellar radiation it generates should throw off non-visual sensor readings as well.
It'll be rough on our shield generators, though. We won't be able to remain that close to it for more than approximately twenty cleks before our shields fail and we're cooked by the nebula's rays.”
“That's a risk we'll have to take. Move us into position at once.”
The Wyvern soared to the nebula, taking up a spot behind it – and not a moment too soon, as a small, flat, triangular scout craft arrived.
Natalie let out a soft gasp. “The ship. It looks just like the one that took me and—”
“I know.”
“They're scanning for us,” the helmsman said. “Being pretty damn thorough about it, too, based on the pattern of our sensor sweeps.” He paused, then turned to us, his expression grim. “Sir, I think they've figured out that this is the only place we could be hiding. They've assumed a sentry position on the other side of the nebula. They're going to try to wait us out.”
“Shields currently at seventy-eight percent and dropping,” Ranel chimed in helpfully.
My mind whirled as I tried to come up with a way out. Then I remembered our surprise when the Pax Alliance armada suddenly appeared behind Lehar's ships at Nort.
“When we couldn't figure out how the Pax managed to follow Lehar without being seen, we assumed it was due to some kind of advanced cloaking technology,” I said. “What if we fooled them into thinking we'd developed the same capabilities?”
“How?” Natalie asked. She was pale, and her brow was covered in nervous perspiration.
I went to the helmsman, leaning over his console. “Lieutenant, a hypothetical for you. Let's suppose our ship was outfitted with a cloaking device, but it was defective somehow because we rushed through the testing process. What might give us away?”
