Haven 1: Ascend

by Sandra R Neeley

  Right away Quin was pounding on the door, calling his version of her name, “Vivi! Vivi!”

  “I’m fine!” she called back in a muffled voice.

  He wasn’t sure what she said, but her voice didn’t sound right, so he pushed the sensor to open the door and stopped short at the sight before him.

  She was standing beside the toilet, bent completely in half at the waist, as she held her shirt up and inspected herself to be sure the surprise foam wasn’t melting her parts and pieces off. It wasn’t painful, but one couldn’t be too sure.

  Vivian heard the door slide open while she was upside-down inspecting herself. She stood, hurriedly slapping her hand against the flame he’d shown her. The ladle toilet slid back into the wall, and she heard what sounded like the flames of an inferno inside the wall as the toilet was sterilized, then stored, waiting for the next time it was needed.

  Quin knew better than to rush toward Vivian. It would only frighten her, but when he’d heard her call out, he’d become worried. He’d tried not to laugh when the door slid open, and she’d been upside down looking between her own legs.

  She was not happy that he’d walked in on her self-inspection, but rather than let on that she was embarrassed, she held her hands up, rubbing them together. Quin nodded, and walked over to the first counter she’d leaned against. He pointed to the rain drop again.

  She said, “You do it first.”

  He started purring at the sound of her voice. He wasn’t sure what she said, but she kept pointing at him then the raindrop insignia on the wall. So he reached out, holding one hand just inside a slight, curved indention in the cabinet top, while pressing the raindrop with the other. Right away his hand was covered in cool cleansing foam, which he used to wash both. Then a warm blast of air followed, causing the foam to disappear. Quin held them up to show her. She waited for him to move aside and did what he’d done. After she was finished cleaning her hands, she snatched her dagger off the counter and stalked past him, her chin held high, to return to the living room. The fact that she’d left it lying on the counter when he entered the bathroom, rather than brandishing it at him, spoke volumes she had yet to even notice.

  She walked into the living room, looking around at all the food still spread across the table. She was really tired and wanted to sleep again. But she didn’t want to leave her macaroni and cheese unattended either. She walked over to the table, picked up the entire dish of macaroni and cheese and turned to find him watching her, his ever-present smile in place.

  He snarled, “paste.”

  Vivian thought he’d said paste, but wasn’t sure. At this point she really didn’t care if it was paste — she just wanted to be able to eat again when she was hungry. And maybe, if it wasn’t too much to ask, to feel safe for a little while. Eventually, one day make it back home if she could figure out how. She missed her uncles. They’d taken care of her after her parents had died. She wondered if they knew what happened to her or if they thought she’d run away.

  Quin figured Vivian must be full, since she was beginning to clear their food from the table. He picked up the platter of meats and one of the dishes of spreads and went into the galley.

  Vivian was curious and followed him, though at a distance.

  He spoke to the ship again, “Computer, food storage.” A shelved unit about two feet by two feet in diameter, and three feet high, rose above the counter top. There were shelves inside it. He placed each platter on a shelf, going back to the living room to gather more dishes and place them on the shelves as well. When he was done, he held out his hand for her macaroni and cheese. Vivian looked at Quin like he was crazy. She shook her head and backed up, holding the bowl against her chest.

  Quin understood. She’d been hungry for so long that she didn’t want to give up her paste. He said, “Vivi paste.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Mine.”

  “Paste?” he asked, pointing to her bowl of pasta.

  A light went off in her head and she realized, “Ohhh! Paste! No, not paste, pasta.”

  He looked at her curiously. Vivian pointed to the bowl she had in her hand, “Pas-tah” she said slowly.

  “Pas-tah,” he mimicked.

  Vivian smiled, he was trying to speak to her, learn her words. “Yes,” she nodded her head, “pasta.”

  He tapped the top of the shelved unit, and the food disappeared into the cabinet.

  Vivian’s eyes got big, and he snarled at the ship again. The shelves reappeared, rising up out of the counter top, all the food now covered with clear lids, but exactly where he’d placed them on the shelves. Again he reached for her bowl of macaroni and cheese. She hesitated, but finally handed it over to him. He smiled at her trusting him with her food and placed it on the top shelf, then tapped the top of the storage unit, and it again disappeared into the cabinet top.

  Vivian pointed at where it was, “Bring it back! I want to see that it’s still there!”

  Quin, aware that she was becoming upset, snarled unintelligibly to the ship, and the shelves rose from the cabinet again. This time Vivian approached and reached out a hand toward the shelves. Quin moved away from them, so as not to impede her as she investigated the storage unit. He knew she did not trust him fully. Her eyes got wide when she felt the cold air coming off the shelves. “It’s a refrigerator!” she said. Then she took her bowl of macaroni off the shelf and raised it to get a better look. It was now covered with a custom-fitted clear lid.

  “Vivi pas-tah,” Quin said.

  Vivian nodded and placed the bowl back on the shelf. Then she tapped the top of the small refrigerator, and it disappeared into the shelf. A huge smile appeared on her face.

  Quin had just about decided to try to get a bit closer to her when a series of beeps sounded softly around them. Then a female voice snarled out what sounded to Vivian like the language that Quin used.

  It was confirmed when Quin answered, an irritated tone to his snarls.

  “Sire, your presence is required on the Command Deck by General Lo’ San,” his ship advised him.

  “Very well, I’ll be there shortly,” he responded. He didn’t want to leave Vivian, but he was needed. His responsibilities could not be ignored. He had an Ehlealah to provide for now, and she deserved the best male he could be. That meant doing everything that was expected of him, properly and with pride so that she could always be proud of the male that belonged to her. True, he couldn’t speak to her yet, and she still didn’t trust him completely. But they were making headway, and that would come soon.

  Quin started walking toward Vivian, and she backed up quickly to avoid him. Once they were out of the galley, he made it a point to give her a wide berth on his way to their sleeping chamber. He changed his shirt, added a deep-emerald velvet cloak, and clasped it at the throat with a heavy golden chain and clasp. She stood in the living room, watching him through the bedroom door. She slowly became aware that the bedroom she’d awakened in was his. His clothes were stored there. His boots were stored there. It was his room. She’d been asleep in his bed. He smiled at her as he walked past her, again giving her plenty of room, so she wouldn’t feel trapped or threatened. He rumbled at her in his characteristic snarls and ended by pointing at the bedroom and saying, “Vivi.”

  She had no clue what he was saying. She shrugged.

  Quin was growing ever more frustrated. What the hell was taking so long to get the translators working on his residence floor. “Computer?!” he barked at the ceiling, causing Vivian to jump in response.

  “Yes, Commander,” the ship responded.

  “Are translators online for my chambers?” he snapped.

  “No, Commander. They are in process. It is necessary to rewrite some of the basic programming to install them. We are close to completion. I will respond to communication in these quarters in all languages when they are ready.”

  Quin growled his frustration, causing Vivian to take another step back from him. He stomped over to the door and turned to her when i
t whooshed open to allow him to exit. He pointed at her, then the floor of his quarters, snarling at her and repeating his actions. Then he stalked through the door leaving it to silently slide closed behind him.

  Vivian sat on the couch, tired but unable to relax enough to fall asleep. She settled for thumbing through the magazine Quin had left lying there. It was an old one from 2025. Then she walked around the apartment, pressing buttons, trying to learn what everything did. She even approached the front door and was very surprised when it slid open for her. She stepped into the doorway and peered down the corridor in both directions — it was wide and the ceilings very high. The entire thing was metallic, steel she assumed, with glowing light emitting from the middle of the ceiling. She could see doors every few feet up and down the corridor. She didn’t see anyone, but felt eerily as though she was being watched. She decided to stay put for now. She needed to know more about the planet she was on and the people who lived here before she ventured out. She may still be a captive, but at least they were being nice to her. They hadn’t attacked her, and they’d not shackled her to a chain. Vivian peeked down the corridor once more then retreated back into the apartment that belonged to Quin. Here she felt relatively safe.

  Vivian picked up the sauce pan she’d smacked Quin in the face with and put it back in the box. Then she snooped through the box that sat on the couch, wondering at all the completely unrelated things inside. She laughed when she found the size 44D sized bra in the bottom of it. She glanced down at her own small B cups, “Sorry to disappoint you, bud, I’m going to need a 36B,” she said aloud.

  “Apologies, Vivian Ehlealah, I do not know, Bud, nor a 36B to obtain them for you,” a feminine computerized voice responded in several languages, then — in English!

  “Who are you?” she asked, jumping to her feet and looking around the apartment.

  There was a pause followed by, “I am the ship’s computer. I have been instructed by our Commander to respond to all your needs immediately and without question.”

  “Really?” Vivian asked, “Anything I need?”

  “Yes, Vivian Ehlealah, anything.”

  “Do they know that you are talking to me?” Vivian asked.

  “Please explain who ‘they’ are,” the computer asked.

  “The aliens. Do they know that you’re speaking with me?”

  The computer was silent for a moment.

  Vivian prompted it, “Hello? You there, Computer?”

  “Yes, Vivian Ehlealah. I am searching my data banks for the term alien. My search is completed. I believe in this instance, you are the alien. And yes, you are aware I am speaking with you.”

  Vivian was stunned. She’d not thought of that. She was the alien here, not the other creatures. But the computer was right — this was their home world, not hers. She was the alien.

  Vivian decided to try another tactic, “Computer, am I safe here?”

  “Yes, Vivian Ehlealah, you are extremely safe. You will never be harmed. Neither our Commander, nor your personal guard will allow it. Your safety is their priority.”

  Vivian nodded her head, “Hmm, good to know. Good to know. Wait, I have a personal guard?”

  “Yes, you do. They stand guard outside these quarters.”

  They must be the big mean males she saw outside in the hallway. “Why do they stand guard?”

  “To protect you.”

  She decided on another path of questioning, “Where am I, Computer?”

  “You are on Command Warship 1, within the territorial limits of the planet Cruestace.”

  Vivian sat down, this new information sinking in. “You mean, I’m not on a planet?”

  “No, Vivian Ehlealah, you are not on a planet.”

  “You said, warship. Am I in the middle of a war?”

  “No, you are not.”

  “Then why am I on a warship?”

  “The Cruestaci are a warrior race of beings. Their entire society is military based. Hence your presence on a warship.”

  Vivian was becoming more and more despondent. She realized that if she wasn’t on a planet, there was little chance of escaping. None in fact. And if she was indeed on a ship, a space ship, with warriors, there was not much she could do about it. She pulled her legs up onto the couch, curling up in the corner of it. She thought of all she’d learned from the computer. She had a few more questions, “Who is the commander that you mentioned?”

  “Our commander is Zha Quin Tha Tel Mo’ Kok.”

  “Have I met him?” Vivian asked.

  “You are now sharing quarters with him. It is certain that you have met him.”

  Vivian’s mouth dropped open, Quin. The commander had to be Quin. “Does the Commander know that I am speaking with you?”

  “No, he is on the Command Deck. He has given the command to attend to all your needs without hesitation as soon as the translators came online in his quarters. You spoke, I registered your voice patterns and answered. I shall inform him that we have identified your language and established communication.”

  “No! Do NOT tell him that we are communicating. Tell him that we are still trying and have not quite figured out the correct language,” Vivian said, thinking quickly. “In fact, until I tell you otherwise, anyone who asks will be told that you are trying to find the correct language. Earth has many to choose from.”

  “Yes, Vivian Ehlealah.”

  Chapter 11

  Quin was mentally exhausted. He’d been summoned to a vidcom meeting with his father and his father’s advisors. They’d been steadily driving him toward losing his temper until his mother had joined them — then she’d driven him straight over the edge. The Consortium had contacted them and advised that he’d kidnapped the females he’d been tasked with rescuing and refused to turn them over for counseling and repatriating to their respective home planets. His father, ever the diplomat, saw an opportunity to become better allied with the Consortium and demanded the females be turned over. Quin, being Quin, had snapped a, “No!” without further explanation. His father snapped back, and it escalated from there.

  It had taken Xallen inserting himself into the middle of the argument to institute any type of truce between the two. The only male more Alpha than Quin’s father was Quin himself. Both were aware — though Quin tried to never overstep his boundaries out of respect for his father. They’d argued for more than an hour, along with the Consortium butting in from time-to-time since his father had included them in the vidcom, finally ending with a compromise. The females would be allowed to stay on his ship, under Cruestaci protection. But only if certain concessions were made. One of which was that the human female be returned to the Consortium, to Malm’s direct custody without further delay. Zha Quin naturally exploded. The yelling between Malm and Quin was so loud and non-stop that Quin’s mother, Sovereigna of Cruestace, had grown irritated and silenced them all with a threat to send her military to both Quin’s ship and the Consortium's home base to blow everyone up. After her outburst silenced the bickering between Malm and Quin, she turned to her eldest son, “Explain yourself, Zha Quin,” she’d ordered.

  He’d met her eyes on the vidcom and silently shook his head, chin raised. The last thing he needed was his mother on his ship, meddling between himself and his Ehlealah. They couldn’t even speak yet. He couldn’t even tell Vivi that they were fated to be together, so he certainly didn’t need his mother goading his Ehlealah into submission. Making her do things the way his mother wanted, and insisting they have children right away and that she should be allowed to school them in all things because Vivi wasn’t Cruestaci.

  “You will tell me why you will not return the human, or I will allow the Consortium to send a counselor,” she calmly stated, her eyebrow raised as she stared down her eldest and favored son.

  “This is MY ship. I will not allow Malm to set foot on my ship. Ever!” Zha Quin stated emphatically. But the look in his eye when he said this was that of the little boy that pleaded with his mother to understand wh
en faced with both her and his father in answer for something he’d been called to receive discipline for. It was the same look he gave her when he knew he was right, just needed some time to prove it.

  His mother was Sovereigna to their planet, wife to the Sovereign, his father, an equal ruler in all rights. But she was his mother as well. She regarded him for a moment longer before saying, “You have given me no choice. I will allow the Consortium's counselor access to the females. But, I will allow you to approve their counselor of choice.”

  Zha Quin wanted to smash the holovid platform, his Psi was almost fully emerged, a constant rumble emitting from his chest. That alone let his mother know that this was no standard issue between him and Malm. This was something personal to him.

  Xallen stepped forward and spoke softly at his side. Zha Quin’s eyes raised to meet his mother’s, then, he said in a barely contained rage, “We will accept Ambassador Bartholomew only, no other will be allowed on my ship.”

  Malm, still heaving with labored breath and red-faced from his own outrage, shouted, “No! I will come to personally oversee this issue. I demand access to the human.”

  Zha Quin reacted as expected, stalking to the platform and raising his hand to smash the holovid imager. Thankfully, Jhan was between Quin and the holovid platform. He took two steps forward, stopping him while quietly saying, “Be still, your mother gives you options.”

  Zha Quin’s eye twitched, his lips pulled back, his shark-like moue fully on display, struggling to maintain control.

  Xallen spoke again, only this time to his Sovereigna, “Sovereigna, please allow me to intercede. We have had past contact with Ambassador Bartholomew — we feel this male would work best in conjunction with our own people in addressing any needs the females may have.”