Auric

by Leslie Chase

  The space inside was larger than I’d expected, dark and still and cluttered. The crash had thrown things everywhere and I desperately wanted a chance to examine them, but first things first. The pilot. Was he hurt? Was he even alive?

  I pushed my way to the front of the cabin and into the cockpit. Of the three seats only one was occupied, and I gasped at the sight of the man slumped in it.

  Back in Earth orbit I’d met some akedians, the tall and spindly aliens who’d sold us this old ship. And I’d seen some other aliens, stocky prells and birdlike tuvonians. But none that looked like this. Even unconscious the pilot looked magnificent, a tall and muscular figure with deep blue skin and dark hair, well over six foot tall and not an ounce of fat on him.

  I could tell because, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, he’d chosen not to wear a shirt. His torso was bare and I could hardly tear my eyes from him. There was no visible sign of injury, at least, and his chest rose and fell in steady, even breaths.

  A live alien of a species I’d never seen. With a shaky smile, I turned to let the others know what I’d found.

  “What happened here?” Captain Donovan asked from the deck outside. “Pirates? Was he fired on?”

  He sounded a lot more confident now that he knew the occupant of the ship was unconscious and unable to hurt him. And that there was only one alien aboard. Clambering up through the hatch he looked around as though relishing the prize that had fallen into his lap.

  I tried to keep my annoyance in check. Typical of him to look past the injured man and see only the valuable tech — I was curious too, but priorities!

  “Captain, we’ve got no way of knowing,” I told him. “Whatever hit the ship was powerful, but that doesn’t tell us much.”

  “Can’t you—”

  “No, Captain.” I sighed, exasperated. “I can’t work this out just by looking at it. Maybe, if we haul the ship into the engineering bay, I’ll be able to figure something out using the sensors… but I don’t think so. This is a job for an expert.”

  He harrumphed noisily and I pressed on before he could chew me out for interrupting him. “This man needs to be in sickbay. That’s first. And the best way to figure out what happened to him is to ask him when he wakes up.”

  The captain looked around the messy cabin of the small ship and frowned. Waved one hand in the air.

  “Right. Okay. Get him out of here and down to sickbay then,” he said. “When he wakes up, interrogate him. In the meantime, find out what you can from the ship.”

  “Me?” I squeaked the question, then got my voice under control. “Captain, I don’t know how to interrogate—”

  “You’ll do fine,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting. If so, it didn’t work. “You know the aliens’ language better than anyone else aboard.”

  That much was true, at least of the crew. Presumably some of the colonists also spoke Galtrade, but we weren’t supposed to wake any of them until we reached Arcadia. And this would give me a chance to practice with an actual, live alien.

  A warm feeling spread through me at the thought of that, and I tried not to let it show. It was embarrassing, but I had to admit it to myself, I was looking forward to spending time with that hunk of a pilot.

  Assuming he’s not here to kill us all. I tried to remember that he’d turned up here in a combat ship, and a damaged one at that. For all I knew he was a pirate, and the damage came from his last victims defending themselves.

  A sexy pirate, part of me insisted. I felt my cheeks heat and turned away to look at the ship. At least my interest there was safer. Sure, there wasn’t much chance I’d learn anything new, but it would probably be the only opportunity I’d ever have to examine an alien spaceship on my own. I had to make the best of it.

  The next few hours were amongst the happiest of my life, and the most frustrating. The technology of this little ship was so far advanced over the Wandering Star that I barely knew where to start.

  It didn’t help that so much of it was damaged. Or that everything was labeled in a language I didn’t understand. Mr. Mews couldn’t help either: the language wasn’t in any database he had access to.

  What I could understand was weird. The ship looked like it needed a thorough overhaul, parts worn out but carefully tended. It oddly reminded me of some of the cars that came into dad’s garage back on Earth — cars that the owner loved but couldn’t afford to maintain.

  Eventually, the holographic cat meowed at me in a reminder that I needed to eat. One of the more frustrating things about him — though, once I looked up from my work, I realized that I was starving. It had been a long time since breakfast.

  “Fine, fine,” I told the hologram. “You can shut up now, I’ll get some lunch.”

  He purred at that and I glowered at him, pulling myself out of the little ship’s engine space and dropping down to the deck. Maxwell, the purser, stood nearby carrying a rifle from the ship’s armory. I shook my head — there wasn’t any danger from the ship now, but of course he was on guard. His suspicious gaze never left the ship, as though it was a Trojan horse about to disgorge dozens of alien warriors into our midst.

  The mess hall was as empty like always. The huge space was built for hundreds, which made it uncomfortable for our crew of five. I grabbed a sandwich from the dispenser — it claimed to be chicken, though from the taste I’d have guessed rubber — and hurried out rather than sitting in the echoing emptiness. Mr. Mews purred approval as I ate.

  Rather than head straight back to the ship, I made my way to the sickbay to check on our visitor. I could poke that ship for months without learning much, but with any luck he’d be able to tell me more.

  Inside, Dr. Orson paced back and forth. She stopped when I entered, shooting me an angry glare. I held up my hands. It wasn’t my fault she’d had this extra work dropped in her lap. And anyway, wasn’t a chance to look at an alien a good thing?

  The alien himself was in the isolation room, locked away behind armored walls. As safe and secure as a prisoner could be. Which meant I’d be locked in with him if I wanted to look him in the eye while I talked.

  “How’s the patient?” I asked. Dr. Orson pulled a frustrated face.

  “Fuck if I know,” she said. “I’ve got no clue what species he is, let alone what his life signs are supposed to look like. He’s not an akedian, and he’s not a bauran, and he’s not a liil. That’s all I can say for sure.”

  “Is he going to wake up?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Probably? His injuries don’t look serious, and he’s got no broken bones I can see. His heart rate’s slow for a human, fast for a liil. Brain waves like nothing I’ve seen before. Maybe he’s asleep, maybe he’s in some kind of coma, maybe he’s just resting his fucking eyes.”

  Her frustration was catching, and I tried not to let it get to me. The last thing I needed was a shouting match with the ship’s doctor — she might not be easy to get on with but being on her bad side was a terrible idea.

  “Can I go in and look at him, then?” I asked, taking a deep breath. “Or look at his equipment, at least?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Dr. Orson said, pushing her hands through her messy blonde hair. “The captain said to let you interrogate him. As long as you don’t mess with him, I don’t care. But if it’s his gear you want, it’s on the table there — I figured better to keep him separate from it, just in case.”

  “Smart,” I admitted. There was no telling what he might do when he woke up.

  The equipment didn’t make me feel any better about dealing with him. Several knives, a blaster pistol that looked big and nasty enough to burn through a bulkhead. A set of what looked like grenades. It was a small arsenal, not the kind of thing a friend would bring to visit.

  But he was definitely running from someone. Maybe that’s why he’s so heavily armed? I shrugged. There was no way of knowing why he had this gear, not till he woke up and told us. Or until whoever was chasing him cau
ght up, which might be better or worse for us.

  I picked up the blaster, turning it over in my hands carefully. Heavy, bulky, and dangerous. I wondered just how much destructive energy I was holding in my hands — if it used the same battery tech as his ship, this could be an incredible weapon.

  There was no way to tell, not without taking it apart and I couldn’t risk that. Firing it was out of the question, given how destructive it might be. A spaceship wasn’t exactly a forgiving environment to punch holes in.

  The best way to answer my questions was obvious. I had to ask him, and I was running out of excuses not to go inside.

  “Okay, Doc, let’s see him.”

  “Let me know when you need out. I’ll be right here waiting.”

  Dr. Orson put her hand on the scanner beside the isolation room’s door and with a beep it slid open. Feeling more than a little nervous, I stepped over the threshold.

  I don’t know what I expected, but the reality was less frightening. The alien lay back, sleeping quietly on a hospital bed, sensors attached to his bare chest. As I watched it rise and fall, I couldn’t help staring again. Muscles like that belonged on a bodybuilder or a model or something — not on an alien fighter-pilot or pirate or whatever he was.

  The lighting here was a lot better than in his ship, and I could see details I’d missed before. Subtle black marks on his upper arms looked like they could be tattoos, or perhaps he’d been born with them. His skin was an inviting dark shade of blue, and I struggled to resist the urge to touch it.

  His hands looked strong, powerful but dexterous. Long fingers ended in razor sharp claws. I swallowed at the sight of them. Even without his weapons, this alien was armed.

  Stepping closer, I looked down at his face. Hard, well-defined features, handsome and strong, somehow cat-like. I found myself wishing that I could see his eyes.

  What do you think you’re going to get out of this, Tamara? I shook my head. Learning about his tech, his origins, his story — all of that would have to wait until he woke up.

  I’d be better off trying his ship again, even if that was mostly hopeless. But something kept me there, watching him breathe, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

  What would that skin feel like? I wondered. Like a human’s? Or would an alien be different? Slowly I reached out towards his cheek.

  His hand closed around my wrist and I gasped. I hadn’t even seen him move. One second he was lying flat, unconscious — the next, he held me in a vise-like grip I had no hope of pulling away from.

  I was so shocked I didn’t even cry out. Just stared, wide-eyed, as his eyes flickered open. They were a strange golden color, the pupil’s vertical slits, nothing like a human’s eyes. I couldn’t look away.

  “Voshen das?” His voice was deep, a vibration I felt as much as heard. He had to repeat himself twice before my brain kicked into gear and I realized I knew what he was asking. He was speaking Galtrade, though his accent made it hard for me to follow.

  “I—I’m Tamara Joyce,” I stammered, trying to pull back. No chance. His grip was far too strong. “Ah, I’m the Wandering Star’s engineer.”

  For what little that was worth. I answered him in Galtrade, doing my best to make my words clear and easy to understand. I had no idea if I was saying the words right.

  But his golden eyes lit up and he nodded, making a strange gesture with his free hand. When he spoke again, he spoke slowly and clearly as though to a particularly stupid child. I blushed but didn’t complain. At least it helped me follow his words.

  “I am Auric, Hresh-Captain,” he told me. That title meant nothing to me, but there was a sadness in his eyes and he paused for a moment before continuing. “You are in danger, Engineer Tamara. All humans here are. Leave now, go to another star. Danger is coming.”

  “We can’t go,” I said, fumbling my way through with my limited Galtrade vocabulary. Captain Donovan was right, I probably was the best linguist aboard. That didn’t mean I was good. “The battery is only half…”

  I trailed off, searching my memory for the word for ‘charged,’ but he seemed to understand. A low growl filled the room, a sound full of menace that made me feel weak at the knees.

  “You hurry,” he insisted. Something else followed, words too quick for me. He saw my confusion, snarled, and tried again. “Leave. Get to a safe place.”

  I thought about the warning signs on the engines and shuddered. Engaging the hyperdrive without a full charge? That would mean disabling every single safety system, and I wasn’t sure I knew how to do that.

  Even if I could, I had no idea where we’d end up after hitting the button. The Wandering Star needed a fully charged drive to reach our next stop, but perhaps there was a closer star we could jump to instead?

  Not my problem. Navigation’s McKenzie’s job, or the captain’s. “I will tell Captain Donovan,” I said to the alien warrior, tugging at his grip again. “You must let me go so I can do that.”

  He bristled at my commands, but I didn’t know how to make it a request. Those piercing golden eyes looked deep into me and it felt like he was looking into my soul. His grip on my wrist didn’t loosen and I swallowed, trying to pull free.

  “Do not just tell him.” The alien’s eyes shone with a frightening intensity. “They are keshar vro das…”

  He trailed off, seeing my confusion. Tried again, more unfamiliar words. I shook my head, swallowing. I’d learned as much Galtrade as I could, but I’d focused on simpler vocabulary. Trade and engineering jargon I had a fair grasp on, and I could order any number of drinks. But whatever he was warning me about, it was outside of my ability to understand.

  Maybe that was a good thing.

  4

  Auric

  Frustrating as it was, at least this human was doing her best to understand. I kept telling myself that as I tried my best to explain the doom that was about to fall upon them.

  “The Silver Band are killers,” I tried, keeping it as simple as possible. No sign of comprehension. Gritting my teeth, I looked into the human’s bright green eyes and tried to convey the importance of this. “They are bad men.”

  That got through, though it didn’t carry the intensity I wanted. Tamara nodded quickly. I struggled to keep my breathing even. This human was unlike anything I’d expected to find when I came here, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. Soft, small, beautiful, her ill-fitting jumpsuit did nothing to hide her curves from me. Her hair was as dark as the blackness between the stars, her eyes green as the lost forests of the homeworld.

  My soul had burned for her from the moment that my eyes opened. It was all I could do to focus on my mission rather than her. Calm breaths warrior, I told myself. If I am to save her, I must make myself understood.

  “You will have to, um, undock my wrist,” she said, pulling at my hand again. Under other circumstances I might have laughed at her choice of words. “I will speak to Captain Donovan.”

  Reluctantly, I nodded and let go. Releasing her hand was uncomfortable for reasons I couldn’t quite follow and had no time to dig into. But while she spoke into the communicator on her wrist, I had nothing to do other than look at her.

  This was a distraction I hadn’t expected, but one I couldn’t ignore. The mating urge of my people was upon me, and my body and soul ached for her. Was this what it meant to meet my khara?

  I growled. By the Starless Void, this was a distraction I didn’t need. Though it made me feel better about my choice to aid these people. Had fate sent me here to find her?

  Fate’s ways are mysterious. No point in worrying about them, just focus on what’s in front of you. My father’s remembered words were always good advice, and today they fit better than ever. I concentrated on the human before me, letting my gaze roam her body. Wishing I could see her curves without the unflattering uniform.

  Her voice was soft, like a rider talking to a skittish mount, and I wondered what her commanding officer must be like that she took such a tone with him. Either a
cruel and brutal man who needed careful handling, or a coward who did not take bad news well.

  Neither were the kind of leader she deserved — and the impatience in her expression told me that she knew it. I wished I could understand her words.

  The human finished her call and turned back to me. “The captain will be here soon,” she said, trying and failing to hide her exasperation. “I will go and…”

  Her words ran out and she gestured towards the door. My instinct was to grab her again, to keep her from leaving. I fought that urge down. We would have time later, if we lived. For now it was imperative that I spoke to her leader.

  Tamara backed away slowly, her eyes fixed on me. I couldn’t read her expression — was she watching a dangerous predator, or did she find it as hard to look away from me as I did from her? My heart raced as I watched her leave the small chamber.

  Once the door slid shut behind her, I sat back to wait, letting myself slide back into a healing trance and assessing the damage. The crash had left me injured, but I would recover quickly. That much, at least, was good news.

  The bad news was that I didn’t know how long I’d been in this room. What might be a clock looked down at me from the wall, incomprehensible units of time ticking by. My communicator would tell me, but the humans had taken that along with the rest of my equipment. A sensible precaution, but a frustrating one. I didn’t know how long I rested before the humans returned.

  Eventually, a section of the wall cleared, letting me see into the next room. There was Engineer Tamara, but this time she wasn’t alone. It took an effort to look at the other humans instead of staring at her. There was another human female, this one with golden hair and an annoyed expression. Both deferred to the third human.

  Standing back from the window was a fat man wearing a fancy uniform that didn’t quite fit. So that’s their commander, I thought, trying not to judge him on his appearance. It was possible to be an able commander while not being fit for personal combat.