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Rescuing Halin: Hissa Warrior, Book 1

Page 4

by RK Munin


  She remains silent, so he continues. “In my family, my two sisters died first. They were so small, so fragile. The last hour of their lives they could barely breathe. They went so quickly that the Mender didn’t even make it to our house in time to examine them. They just closed their eyes and never opened them again.”

  “Then my mother fell ill, but she was stronger and that made it so much worse for her. By then we knew the virus was a death sentence. Our Menders and scientists were working night and day, but it takes time to find a cure or a vaccine. My father, brother and I tried to comfort her, but she was so scared and in so much pain. At the end she begged us to kill her to end her suffering. We couldn't. We were too selfish. We did everything to extend her life, to give us more time with her. A little more time for our scientists to find a way to save her. But she finally went into a coma. Not long after that she crossed the starry veil.”

  Without giving herself time to think she reached out to take his hand in hers, clutching it gently with one hand and stroking her other hand up and down his forearm. He doesn't pull away from her embrace, and she's relieved he accepts her comfort.

  “If no females survived, how will you species survive?”

  “That’s the problem we've been wrestling with almost my entire life. At first the planet was in mourning. None of us could think outside our pain. Not only did we lose all our women and numerous men, but many males who survived refused to live without the females they loved. Suicide became an epidemic. We lost so many so quickly. It was devastating.”

  “What about Decanted children?” she asks. “That's what we call children who are grown back in the Earth system. Human scientists figured out how to grow kids in vats. And while they’re being grown, they can be programmed with language and knowledge before they're even decanted. You could potentially grow an entire generation of Hissa.”

  He shakes his head. “We've heard of that technology and even tried to replicate it, but all our efforts have ended in failure. Hissa can't be Decanted.” She frowns at his words, feeling nothing but empathy for the Hissa. When she lost her parents, her world was shattered. What would it be like to lose so many? To have an entire civilization decimated in such a way is unimaginable.

  He jerks his head to the box hanging over the bunk, and she follows his gaze. “There are biological samples of tens of thousands of Hissa men and women in there,” he explains. “It took us years of negotiating, but the Bicoma finally agreed to meet with us. We aren't sure they can help, but their technology is much farther advanced than anyone other species. I’m afraid they might be our last hope.”

  “What are they asking for in return?” she questions with real worry. The Bicoma rarely trade, and the few deals she's heard about were extreme.

  “We don't know yet,” he admits. “That's why the three of us were sent. Tiran is an expert programmer and our most valued computer engineer. Lazil is a scientist, one of our most brilliant. We hoped to trade some of their skills and Hissa wealth for answers.”

  “Your people sent an engineer and a scientist,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “Why did they send you? What are your skills?” She sees his face flash surprise; then he smiles, and she knows he's about to tell her a half truth.

  “I'm a commander in the Hissa military,” he explains. “I was sent to get them there and back safely.”

  She eyes him thoughtfully. “You were sent as protection?” She narrows her eyes, “I have a feeling you're not telling me everything.”

  He narrows his own eyes back at her “You doubt my prowess as a warrior?” he asks, his tone full of mock outrage. “When I'm recovered, we can spar. I can show you my skill. I promise to be gentle with you.”

  She barks out a laugh. “I promise to take it easy on you too.”

  He chuckles at her comeback but she notices strain showing on his face. His body is still recovering, and he needs rest. She pops up and strides over to a storage cabinet, then rummages around until she finds clothes that might fit him. She throws a bundle of clothing, which he easily catches.

  “See if those will work for you,” she commands, surprised when he just glares down at the clothes in his hand.

  “Do these belong to your male?” he asks looking up at her.

  “I don't have a male or crew,” she tells him quickly, wondering why it's important to her that he knows she's not in a relationship.

  Because you want to climb on that dick and go for a ride, a little voice in her head states. She hopes she’s not blushing because the Naughty Mian in her head has no filter.

  He smiles and looks relieved. “That's good.” He stands, and the blanket slides off of him. She turns quickly, pretending to fiddle with organizing the cabinet. She knows if she looks at him in all his naked glory, there's no way he's getting out of the room unmolested.

  “These will be adequate until I can buy something better,” he grumbles.

  She turns around and almost laughs. The shirt fits, but it's old and there are several holes in it she didn't notice before. But the pants are far from suitable. They are so tight the seams are stretching and she can see the outline of him quite clearly. She has to force herself to swallow. She wonders how long it will take him to feel like he “knows” her well enough so they can have sex. Considering her reaction to him already, she's sure it's going to be hot, intense, and all kinds of enjoyable, unlike her past experiences.

  Human compatible males are hard to come by in this section of the universe, and it's been a long time since she had anything in her bed but herself.

  “We aren't far from Wint,” she assures him. “It's a big station and there's a market area. I'm sure we can find everything we need there.” He nods and sways a little on his feet. She rushes up, puts one of his arms over her shoulder, and grabs his chest to steady him. She ignores the wonderful smell of him and starts guiding him out of the cockpit and down the hall.

  “I think I might need to rest some more,” he mumbles.

  “A big, soft bed is just down the corridor waiting for you,” she promises. He nods, and she can tell he's concentrating on trying to stay upright and not lean on her too much.

  When they finally reached her quarters, he looks around the room with an expression of intense surprise.

  Unlike the rest of the gray, utilitarian ship, this room is brightly decorated. The walls are painted in a deep gold, with scarlet drapes of fabric falling from the ceiling and artfully gathered at the floor. Ornate bowls full of glowing crystals hang from the ceiling to light the room in a soft, warm yellow glow. A cerulean blue rug takes up most of the floor space, so plush their feet sink into it as she helps him to the bed.

  Thankfully they reach the large rectangular bed that overwhelms the small room without incident. Reaching out his fingers to touch the frame, his face full of wonder.

  “It's real wood,” he exclaims softly. The bed is one of Mian's pride and joy. No small ship bunk for her. Instead she commissioned an artist to build her a big wooden bed with an elaborate headboard covered in intricate carvings. She didn't stop there. She searched for the softest fabrics to cover it and a coverlet so plush she occasionally enjoyed stretching on it naked.

  He carefully sits on the bed, and she can see he's sweating a little from the short journey. “Everything in here is so bright.”

  She looks around at all the vivid colors she's combined in the cabin and winces a little. “Sorry. I really like bold colors.”

  “It's captivating,” he assures her. “Hissa like bright colors too. When there were women, we showed our affection for them by buying them the softest, brightest, nicest fabrics we could. Women were the spirited heart of us. They were our beauty, our love, and our souls. We’re nothing without them.” He glances around him. “My mother and sisters would have loved this room.” He runs his hands over her coverlet and gives a small, sad smile. “And they would have adored this as well.”

  Mian's heart goes out to the Hissa. “It’s hard, losing so many in such a short period of
time.”

  He looks up at her with eyes so troubled her breath catches, “How does a species survive when their heart is gone?”

  Mian feels helpless at his question so she does what she always does when she can't solve one problem; she fixes another. “Let’s get you into bed,” she pulls back the covers and encourages him to slide in. “You'll feel a lot better after a long sleep.” Clumsily he wiggles himself over until she can pull the covers up to his chest.

  He grins up at her. “This bed appears big enough for both of us. You could join me, and we could talk more.”

  “Rest,” she commands. “We'll do more getting to know each other on our way to Bicoma, after you're feeling better.”

  Nodding, he relaxes against her plush pillows and gives a sigh of contentment. “It smells like you,” he murmurs. “It's very pleasurable.” She's about to speak, but then she realizes he's asleep, so she tiptoes out of the room. She closes the hatch gently and makes her way back to the control room. This might prove to be the most interesting assignment she's ever had.

  CHAPTER 5

  By the time they reach Wint, Halin feels markedly better and impatient to get on the station. With long strides he crosses the dock, eager to reach the market and start buying things for the lovely creature—

  Looking down, he finds she’s no longer walking next to him. He stops and turns to search for her, only to have the small human run right into him with enough force to jolt him back a step. Flustered, she pulls away from him. Popping her hands on her hips, she gives him a little scowl.

  “Where's the damn fire?” she growls.

  “There's a fire?” he asks, looking around quickly, wondering if Wint is under attack.

  “It's an old Earth expression.” With a wave of her hand, her scowl disappears. “It means, why are you in such a rush?”

  “There are things we must buy,” he explains with a grin.

  She gives him a skeptical look. “You want to go shopping?”

  “Who doesn't like shopping for weapons and armor?” he responds.

  She gives him an answering grin. “Good point.”

  “And we must buy you new clothes,” he insists and takes her hand to tug her along as he starts walking again, but at a more sedate pace. He needs to remember her smaller stature. She’ll need to jog to keep up with him if he walks too fast. He's elated when she doesn't try to tug her hand out from his, but she does voice a protest.

  “I don't need clothes. You're the one that needs clothes, Mr. Tight Pants.”

  “Then we both need to buy clothes,” he amends.

  She shakes her head again and stops, forcing him to either drag her along or stop as well. He halts and regards her curiously when her expression turns tense.

  “I don't need clothes,” she tells him again. “I just want the armor and plasma rifle you promised.”

  “Of course,” he answers, understanding dawning. “I'm not trying to replace one item for another. I'll buy the things we agreed on as part of the deal, but I wish to buy you clothing as part of our Knowledge Period. It's what a Hissa male does for his female.”

  She eyes him skeptically. “I thought we were going to talk.”

  “We’ll do that also, but buying you clothing will make me happy,” he explains, which is true. He doesn’t add that the Knowing Period actually happens when the male and female in question live together and do everything a couple would. It was a common practice during the weeks male and female lived together to see if they are biologically and emotionally compatible before forming a Family Pact and having children.

  He doesn't want to spook her and mention anything more permanent than sharing a bed a few times might make her wary of him. He might be twisting Hissa customs a bit, but it doesn’t matter.

  He’s not lying to her, just creating new customs to fit a new relationship. After all, there aren’t any Hissa women to woo any longer, so creating new protocols seems appropriate.

  “Don’t you want to make me happy? I have credits and giving you clothing will make me happy,” he presses.

  “I guess we can buy me clothes too,” she agrees hesitantly.

  “Good,” he says cheerly and tugs her along, keeping his strides short. “Let’s get weapons first.”

  “Right over there,” she points to a shop with several sets of armor displayed in the windows. Now it's her turn to be eager as she drags him forward, nearly running to get to the shop. “I wonder if they have the ones with the dimmerian components. I’ve read the advert and stats for it. The thing is almost rated for a class two hit, and the dimmerian components means it's resistant to electric fields, radiation, or magnetic interference.”

  She's so excited he's surprised she's not skipping. He chuckles as she pulls him into the shop, then drops his hand to start fondling armor. He starts looking too, knowing he needs to replace the missing legs and arm pieces to his set.

  “Mian!” a voice exclaims, and a Fielden is suddenly grabbing her around the waist, nuzzling her with his bulbous, eyeless face. The entire top half of a Fieldens head is a translucent dome that acts both as their method of seeing and hearing. They can't speak with their mouths. Instead he wears a small translation box that voices the meaning of the noises coming from inside his skull.

  Acting on instinct, Halin grabs the Fielden by his thin arm and rips him away from Mian with a roar of displeasure. The Fielden stumbles back with a cry of surprise and pain, coming up hard against a display of weapons components.

  Halin puts himself between Mian and this unknown male. “My female,” he growls.

  “Back off!” Mian yells at him, grabbing his arm and swinging him around.

  He's surprised by her strength but it doesn't stop him. Instead, he wraps his arms around her and pushes her back against a wall. Then he turns to put his body between her and the threat.

  “Mine,” he states again with another growl. He feels Mian become motionless, pinned between his big body and the wall. He thinks her stillness means she understand he’s trying to protect her from potential danger.

  He's wrong.

  A sharp blow to the back of his knee along with a harsh shove sends him flying into a rack of clothing. He ends up on the ground, tangled in insulation suits. She takes a step forward to stand over him, her face full of fury. Maintaining eye contact with him she points to the Fielden who’s standing on shaking legs and making distressed chittering noises the translation box can't turn into words.

  “That's Moriv,” she tells him in a harsh voice. “He's a friend. You just attacked one of my dearest friends.”

  He looks back over to the Fielden and realizes the noises the creature is making are from fear. He acted out on instinct and now he’s done damage.

  His natural charm and charisma desert him as he gapes at Mian. “I'm sorry,” he stammers. “I didn't think I—”

  She cuts him off, “Out!” She points to the door of the shop. “I need to talk to Moriv. You get out!”

  Halin stumbles to his feet and takes a small lurching step toward her. “Let me make amends.”

  She shakes her head adamantly. “No. What you did is inexcusable. Fieldens aren't hardy creatures. You could have hurt him.” He feels his heart sink at her words. Will she sever the contract now? Will she leave him here on Wint? He's not ready to be parted yet. He opens his mouth to plead again, but the look of rage on her face makes him stop, drop his head, and shuffle out the door.

  There's only one entrance to the shop, so he's sure when she finishes with Moriv she won't be able to slip past him and back to the ship. He paces outside the shop, furious with himself and silently berating his actions.

  It was instinct to guard Mian from a perceived threat. The sight of Moriv touching her made him feel insane for a moment. He saw the Fielden as a threat to his precious female.

  His female? Why was he thinking in terms of his?

  That thought brings him up short. Is that what he wants, for her to love him? He delves into his own mind and finds
he already loves her. He fell in love with her the moment she touched him. The moment he realized the wonderful smell filling his lungs was her. He only vaguely remembers being wounded and feeling intense pain. But he remembers her touch with crystal clarity. Can love happen so fast?

  He remembers his father telling him that it had only taken one day to fall in love with his mother.

  “She smelled so good, and I couldn't imagine a life where I didn't wake up every morning and go to bed every night with her body in my arms and her smell in my nose,” his father explained during their mourning ceremony. “I knew the first day. I knew I could never love anyone else. We just know, son. The females take a little longer, but we males, we just know.”

  The more he thinks about it the more he realized that he wants this female to enter into a Family Pact with him, despite the fact that she's not Hissa. Could he talk her into it? Would it matter to her if they can’t have any young together? He long ago accepted the fact he would never be able to have young of his own, but would Mian be content with that?

  He’ll have to interview her carefully. If she is dead set on raising children, perhaps they can find an orphan to adopt. Or even order a Decanted human to raise as their own. They could send Mian genetics so the child would be half her. That is, if she even wants to have children.

  But it doesn’t matter if she wants twenty or none. He’s willing to accept just about anything to keep her in his life.

  Of course, whether she wants children or not, he can't imagine she'd be content with living on Hissa without a job. But there's no reason she couldn't join the Hissa military. She's obviously skilled and they might even be able to command a ship together. He doesn't like the idea of her being in danger, but he can make sure they serve on a ship that's never sent into direct combat. The Hissa military is rarely needed now that they developed a deadly reputation. It would be a small matter to get them both assigned to ships used in the protection of convoys travelling to close trading partners.

 

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