by Delia Roan
She turned her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop treating me like a baby!” she said.
You are a baby, he wanted to reply. My baby.
The set of her jaw and the furrow on her brow stopped him. In the moment, she looked like her mother, all fierceness and dark mood. In fact, in a few short years, she would be the same age as they were when they met. His chest hurt. Verdan opened his mouth to speak, but instead, flicked on the Communications.
“New Trades, this is Captain Verdan Ar’Lhoris, of the Moon’s Pride. Requesting an exit. Priority One.” It would cost him extra in docking fees to pay for the priority takeoff, but anything that expedited their departure would be worth it.
The speaker buzzed, and then New Trades responded. “Confirmed. Please standby.”
As Verdan waited, he tapped his finger on the console, beating out a random rhythm. His fingers ached, as did his head. The Dorians hadn’t landed a single blow on him, but he felt like he’d been through a long battle. He curled his hands into fists.
It’ll only get worse.
“Papa,” Farrah pointed to a console. “Look!”
The screen showed the exterior of the ship, where three Dorians milled around the cargo boxes sitting by the hatchway. Verdan scowled.
“Thieving bastards,” he muttered, as the Dorians disappeared around the side of the ship.
“Where did they go?” Farrah asked. “Are they going to take the boxes? They are, aren’t they?” Farrah slumped back in her chair. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”
A muscle twitched in Verdan’s forearm, but he said nothing. She needed to feel the full effects of what she’d caused.
Once New Trades gave Moon’s Pride access to a conveyor belt, it only took an hour before Verdan blasted away from the space station. As New Trades vanished, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Good riddance.
He’d gotten lax, going to the same port, trip after trip. For Farrah’s sake, he needed to plan better. Keep his enemies guessing.
Farrah unclipped her harness.
“Where are you going?” Verdan asked.
“To check on Min,” she replied. “That takeoff was too rough for her.”
“She’s fine. She’s handled more G-forces than you.”
Farrah merely bit her lip.
“Go,” Verdan said, caving to the concern in her eyes. “Check on your hairy beast.”
He waited until her footsteps faded before turning back to the Comms. With a heavy hand, he dialed the number for Jrak. The Comms flashed for a moment before Jrak’s leonine face appeared onscreen. A bushy mane framed a wide face with high cheekbones. Jrak made his fortune by working the black market. He provided what others couldn’t, usually at an exorbitant price. Jrak smiled, revealing fangs.
“Verdan! We were scheduled to speak tomorrow. To what do I owe this immensely gratifying pleasure?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Jrak.”
“It is never a bother to see your gorgeous face or the darling face of your progeny.” That made Verdan scowl, but Jrak merely laughed. “What can I do for you?”
“I can’t make our meeting tomorrow. I left New Trades.”
Jrak’s eyes narrowed. “I thought your order was urgent.”
Verdan ran a hand over his face. “Very urgent. But I cannot risk my daughter’s safety.” Briefly he described the incident with the Dorians.
Jrak scratched his face with a claw. His charming smile had faded into a hardened scowl. “Dorians. Trying to snatch Farrah is pretty bold. I’ll make some inquiries. Dorians are bad for business.”
Verdan nodded. “Thank you.” He had no doubts that Jrak’s inquiries involved cudgels and broken bones.
“As for you,” Jrak continued, “you need my help.”
“I do.” Jrak had been selling him Temanzyme for years now. That was why he’d gotten complacent about going to New Trades. He should have known better.
“Your eyes are desperate,” Jrak said. “Desperate people make stupid mistakes. Come pick up your supply.”
“I can’t go back to New Trades. Not yet. Do you have any other connections?”
“I’ve got an agent on R-333. I can see if he can find your drugs.”
“They’re not drugs!”
Jrak waved a hand. “They’re drugs, Verdan. You take them to function and if you don’t, you suffer. After you suffer, you die. That’s a drug.”
Verdan gritted his teeth. “I do this for Farrah, not myself. Give me your agent’s details.”
“Sending.”
“Thank you, Jrak.” He ignored the pity in Jrak’s eyes, and signed off. Verdan rolled his shoulders, and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck. Time to do some research.
R-333 turned out to be a former mining colony, located on the edge of Ennoi territory. Verdan cursed. He’d have to see his people again. Word would spread that Verdan Ar’Lhoris reentered Ennoi space. His family would scramble to contact him. He dug his knuckles into his thigh, letting the pain distract him from the ache in his arms.
“I am done with the war,” he reminded himself. “The war is done with me. Farrah will be safe.” He closed his eyes, and repeated the words until he almost started believing them.
Almost, but not quite.
He flicked on his lumis. Farrah sat outside Min’s cage, chatting animatedly. The corner of Verdan’s mouth quirked. She didn’t seem upset from the trouble earlier. As much as he’d loathed the idea of bringing another mouth to feed onto the ship, Min had been good for Farrah. The animal loaned her an ear without judgment.
What happens when she needs advice?
He would be there for her.
On female matters?
The ache in his bones grew. Verdan pushed it aside. He’d have to figure out how to get Temanzyme soon, or he’d be of no use to anyone, including his daughter. On the screen, Farrah laughed, throwing back her head. She picked up the lumis beside her, and pointed the screen to the cage. Verdan frowned. He looked to the console, where Farrah had left his lumis.
“Wh-?”
Farrah put down the device, and pulled a fruit from her basket. She held it out toward the cage. His eyebrows shot up as a slender hand emerged from Min’s cage.
“She didn’t…” Verdan muttered, his attention fixed on the tiny screen.
The hand seized the fruit and slipped back into the cage.
“She did!”
Verdan surged to his feet, and raced down the corridor.
I’ll tan her hide, the little hellion!
He burst into the back room. Farrah froze, her hand halfway to the cage. Inside, he saw Min, chewing contentedly, and a figure squeezing back into the shadows. Verdan grabbed Farrah and shoved her behind him. She squealed, but he paid no attention. He faced the cage.
“You,” he barked. “Out! Now!”
“It’s locked!” Farrah’s hand was sticky with fruit juice when she placed it on his arm. “I made sure it was locked!”
Verdan didn’t take his eyes off the shadow behind Min. He pushed Farrah to the wall, and marched to the cage. He flicked the lock open, and stepped back. Min bleated, but remained sitting.
“Now,” Verdan said. “Out.”
The shadow moved, and the alien from New Trades stepped out. He frowned. “What are you?”
“Her name is Rebecca! She’s an Earthling. Human!”
“Be silent, Farrah!”
He studied the Human. She resembled an Ennoi in build, with two arms and two legs. Her skin was oddly smooth, her eyes startlingly white around two dark circles, and her hair sprung from her head in a series of dark coils. From the way she stood, legs braced and hands in fists, she expected a fight.
Brave, he thought, then corrected himself. Of course she was brave. She’d taken on Dorians to protect Farrah.
“You don’t belong here,” he said. His tone was harsher than he expected. He wrinkled his nose. “You
stink.”
She gritted her teeth at him, and snarled. “That’s really rude. Also, you’re welcome. I’m so glad I risked my life and my freedom to help your daughter.”
“Freedom? You entered that cage willingly!”
The Human’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, her eyes flashed an emotion he could not read. “Not willingly. I don’t like cages.”
Farrah grabbed his arm. “She saved me! She brought me back my lumis!”
He looked down at her. “That doesn’t mean she is safe.”
“I’m safe,” Rebecca said, stepping forward. “I won’t bring harm to you or Farrah. I promise.”
“I have your word? You understand that we Ennoi take our oaths seriously?”
She nodded. “So do Humans.”
“Please, Papa? Please? She needs help.”
The Human held out her palms in a gesture of peace. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. We’re hurtling through space. You’re stuck with me. Can we call a truce?”
Vendan’s anger faded, leaving behind a weariness that he knew rest couldn’t ease. “Fine.”
“Yay!” Farrah clapped her hands. “You are the best father in whole the universe!”
“She cannot stay,” he warned.
“I don’t want to stay,” Rebecca said.
“I can give you a ride to R-333. No further.”
Even though he knew it meant nothing to her, she nodded. “That’ll be fine.”
Verdan wrinkled his nose. “But first, you must bathe.”
CHAPTER THREE
REBECCA
Rebecca had hoped for a soaker tub with jets and bubbles, but she accepted the shower. The water was hot enough to slough away dirt and grime, and the feeling of the Dorian’s skin under hers. Combined with the fruit filling her belly, Rebecca felt cheerful enough to hum to herself.
Small joys, she reminded herself. That’s what keeps me going.
She lathered up twice while she listened to Farrah prattle away and ask questions.
“Doesn’t the water dry out your skin? We Ennoi use oil. We use the water shower for cargo and to wash Min,” Farrah said. “She gets fluffy after!”
Min resembled a six-legged yak, drooled too much, and smelled like a musty basement, but Rebecca was beyond caring. Clean is clean. She smiled at the girl’s pride in her pet. “She seemed very gentle.”
“She’s going to have babies soon, you know,” Farrah said.
“Really?” The girl had a lot to say. Rebecca wondered how often she got to speak to another living soul.
“Mm-hmm. Min is a Stillian Koedeer. They don’t have Avowed like Ennoi do. Do Humans Avow?”
Rebecca waited, but her translator didn’t fill in the word. “I don’t know what that is,” she confessed, scrubbing at her scalp.
“You don’t?” Farrah sounded shocked. “Avowed are very important for Ennoi. My papa and my mama were Avowed. That meant they were in love and meant to be together forever. Min doesn’t have an Avowed. But she will be a good mother. I just know it.”
Rebecca scraped dirt out from under her fingernails, thrilled to be done with the smells of New Trades. “Where’s your mother now?”
“She’s dead,” Farrah said.
Rebecca froze. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay. It happened when she gave birth to me. I don’t remember her, but it still makes Papa sad. That’s why he takes the medicine.” The girl scrunched up her face. “Te-man-zyme. That’s the name of the medicine.”
Jeez, this kid has no filters.
Rebecca turned off the water, and let her hair drip as she pondered Farrah’s words. “Your father is sad so he take medicine to feel better?” Anti-depressants, or is he taking the hard stuff?
“He would die without the medicine. Of a broken heart.” Farrah added, with a sigh. “I don’t want him to die.” Before Rebecca could say anything, Farrah spoke. “Do you think Min will die while giving birth?”
“No, I think she’s a strong animal.”
“Papa is strong, too.”
“Yes, he most certainly is,” Rebecca said softly. She rubbed her skin dry with a towel the size of a blanket. You’d need a whole lot of towel to cover all that man. She flushed. Farrah spoke about her father’s broken heart, and Rebecca’s brain filled with dirty thoughts.
Farrah loaned her a flight suit. They were a bit short in the legs and arms, and a little tight across the chest, but they were heaven after the gross Dorian overalls she’d worn on New Trades. Before that, she’d been in a tunic, or mostly naked. No, the suit was dandy.
“Come on,” Farrah said once Rebecca dressed. “I want to check on Min. Maybe the babies are coming now!”
Farrah took off down the hallway, her dress shimmering in the low light. Rebecca followed after, taking her time. She didn’t want to see Verdan again. While she’d been dirty and desperate, she’d jumped at the opportunity to leave New Trades. Now, sitting on a ship headed to who knew where, her nerves were starting to build again.
From the frying pan, into the fire.
Rebecca shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t the way a woman survived. She shouldn’t mope. She should focus on how to get Verdan to appreciate her being on board.
Lost in thought, Rebecca nearly missed the low curse coming from an ajar door. Farrah was further down, singing a lullaby about hairy babies.
“Come, Rebecca!”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” she responded. Farrah kept going.
Rebecca peeked in the door. Verdan leaned against a box, his back a curve and his fists pressed against the metal container. The muscles along his arms stood out like cords of wire. Scales along his shoulders moved, opening and closing like leaves in a breeze. A fine sheen of sweat dotted his brow.
He grunted and cursed again, driving his fist into the box with a solid thunk.
She shouldn’t be here.
“Verdan?”
He looked up, and for a second, Rebecca wanted to run from the pain in his eyes, and from the fangs he bared. Then, he blinked rapidly. The fluttering scales settled.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Wh-what do you want?” His voice grated like stone on iron.
In for a penny, she thought, bracing herself. Be useful.
She stepped into the room, taking in the jumble of boxes, many tipped on their sides. “This room is a mess.”
Verdan rolled his eyes at her. “Pardon me. My deepest apologies on the condition of my storage chamber. I left New Trades with alacrity. No time to secure the load.”
Rebecca ran a hand over one of the containers. “Is this your cargo?”
His eyes followed her as she crossed the room. “Yes. I haul freight.” He thumped a box with his fist again, but this time for emphasis. “These contain sheets of fabric.”
“For clothes?”
“For shrouds,” he said. “These are destined for a planet scoured by plague.”
Rebecca snatched her hand back. “Funeral attire? That’s morbid.”
Verdan shrugged.
“So what’s got you in a tizzy?”
“Pardon?”
“What’s the problem?” she clarified.
“I’m short on inventory.” He ran a hand over his hair. “With this mess, I can’t tell how short.”
She saw her chance. “I’ll help!”
That made him bark with laughter. “How?”
“You move them. I’ll count and tally.”
He tilted his head. “Can you read Ennoi?”
“No,” she said, “But I can count in Human. We can translate once we’re done.”
Verdan eyed out the nearest box, and then shook his head. “Fine. I must concede that I am in no condition for physical labour. I shall have to pull out the mech.”
“What’s that?”
The mech suit resembled a metal skeleton. Verdan explained how, once he s
tepped inside, it adjusted to his body, allowing him to carry more weight than would be typical.
“A simple machine,” he said. “Invaluable when hauling ore.” He sneered at the containers. “This should be done by my hand alone. With this suit Farrah, or even you, could lift these boxes.”
“Really? I want to try it.” She hoped the expression on his face wasn’t stark disbelief, but for some reason, she knew it was. “I can do it. I’m no stranger to the mechanical. I don’t mean to brag, but back on Earth, I could drive a stick shift.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“Trust me,” she said, stepping up to the mech suit. “It was a big deal.”
With a shrug, Verdan showed her the controls. He smelled like cinnamon. Warm and spicy. Despite his distracting closeness, Rebecca did her best to focus. Within a few minutes, she was hauling boxes around, a grin on her face at the ease with which the machine moved. The machine hummed, and Rebecca hummed along with it, enjoying the sensation of being clean, full, and productive.
“See? No biggie,” she said, grinning at Verdan.
To her surprise, he merely grunted back. She stopped and took in his glassy expression. His eyes were like opals, lit with a swirling fire within, but his mouth hung open, slack.
“You don’t look so…” She wanted to say hot, but the thought of saying that to Verdan brought a blush to her cheeks. “Good. You don’t look so good.”
“M’fine,” he mumbled.
“Did you catch the plague?” She gestured at the fabric.
“Your logic is faulty. Haven’t been there yet. Ennoi cannot catch xorthian illnesses.”
Rebecca tilted her head. “That why you’re okay with taking your kid to this plague planet? R-333?”
Verdan shook his head in irritation. “R-333 is the stop before. Farrah will remain on the ship.”
“Hmm, like she did on New Trades?”
“By all that is sacred, stop talking!”
Whatever response Rebecca would have made was drowned out by his groan. He leaned against a container, and dropped his head into his hands.
“Maybe you should go get some rest,” Rebecca said, preparing for an argument.
Instead, he dropped the lumis onto a nearby box and staggered out, swaying as he went.
