The Edge of it All

by Jessica Grayson

  And I do love him. At first, I thought it was just fascination because of my dreams. But the more I've gotten to know him, the harder I've fallen. How could I not? I can't stop thinking about that day when he showed me the stars so I wouldn't feel so lost. But does he love me?

  The only way I'll know is if I ask. And I need to start with the truth and tell him about my dreams. He watches me intently, and there is a flicker of uncertainty behind his gaze as I step forward and take his hand in mine. "Soran, I have to tell you something."

  His eyes search mine as I entwine our fingers. "It's something I should have told you a long time ago, and—”

  The doors whoosh open to reveal Tr'lani, excitement lighting her face. "Rowan received a signal from an Aerilon ship. He's trying to contact them now. Come with me to the bridge."

  I’m reluctant to release his hand. "We'll talk later?"

  He nods and then I turn to follow her.

  Chapter 18

  Soran

  It's been several hours, but Rowan has finally made contact with the Aerilon ship. I only left a few minutes ago to join Liana and Tr'lani in the crew mess but now we're all racing back to the bridge.

  As soon as the doors whoosh open, my jaw drops when I notice an Aerilon male's face on the viewscreen. His golden eyes narrow slightly as he looks past me to Tr'lani and Liana. He inhales sharply. "Tr'lani?" His voice is a mixture of hope and disbelief; a deep vibrational hum emits from his throat. "I was so afraid we'd never find you, my beautiful sister.”

  His eyes are bright with tears as he raises his open palm to the display as if to touch her, and Tr’lani does the same.

  They stare at one another as if afraid to look away. A broken sob escapes her, and a tear rolls down his cheek.

  “All this time,” he barely manages. “We never gave up searching. How did you escape?"

  The answering hum from Tr'lani fills the bridge before she turns back to us. "Prince Soran and Prince Rowan of Mosaura saved us from the A'kai. But”—she takes Liana's hand in her own—“Liana is the one who kept me alive before that."

  He studies Liana a moment before bowing deeply. "You have my deepest gratitude. Have you been able to contact your people--the V'loryns?"

  Liana opens her mouth to answer, but Tr'lani interrupts. "She's not V'loryn, Al'aneo. She's Terran."

  He leans closer to the screen, his sharp gaze scanning her from head to toe.

  Tr'lani continues. "She was taken from her ship by the Zovians while she was in stasis. She doesn't know where her home world is. I wish to bring her into our clan, so she can become an Aerilon citizen and have the same rights and protection of our people."

  Al'aneo's golden eyes turn to Liana. Lifting his hand to the screen, he extends his first three fingers to touch the display as if reaching out to her. Liana and Tr'lani copy the gesture. "For all you've done for my sister, I shall be proud to welcome you into Clan Al'ani as in'ari."

  Clan Al'ani is one of the Ruling High Clans of Aerilon. Tr'lani and her brother are royalty like us. Their acceptance of Liana as in'ari not only makes her Aerilon, it also means she is now a member of the royal family.

  Liana gives Al'aneo and Tr'lani a watery smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me."

  My chest tightens. Does this mean she's going to leave with them?

  Al'aneo's image begins to distort. "We're traveling near a binary system. It's interfering with our signal. We are en route. I will see you in five solars, and I'll contact you again tomorrow," he says just before the viewscreen goes dark.

  Liana

  Tr'lani gives me a warm smile. "I told you my family would accept you."

  My heart is full as I stare at my friend; my sister in all ways but blood. Despite my best attempts to speak clearly, my voice quavers with emotion. "Thank you."

  She wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Now that you are of Clan Al'ani, I'm certain the rest of the High Clans will vote in favor of searching for your people and your home world."

  Her words fill me with hope.

  Rowan looks to me. "When the Aerilon contact us again, I will transmit everything you told us about Talel and his associate discussing your home world."

  Tr'lani nods. "In the meantime, you can live with me on Aerilon."

  I have nowhere else to go. My people are unheard of in this region of space, and without any formal alliances between my government and theirs, I'm blessed that Tr'lani's clan has offered to take me in. But I wonder how well I'll be able to integrate into their society.

  Noticing my hesitance, Tr'lani gives me a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

  "I just—I’m concerned about how I'll live on a planet full of people who fly. I mean, I certainly don't have any wings."

  A flicker of sadness crosses her face as her broken wings flutter softly behind her.

  Almost immediately, I curse myself for my careless choice of words. "I'm sorry, Tr'lani. I didn't mean to remind you of—”

  She gives me a pained smile. "It's all right. I have to accept the fact that my wings may never be repaired."

  Rowan interrupts. "We will find someone to help you and we will not give up until we have exhausted every possibility."

  I'm struck by the look of intense devotion on his face as he regards her.

  Gently, she places a hand on his forearm as her golden eyes stare deep into his. "Thank you, Rowan."

  After coming up with a tentative plan of where to meet Tr'lani's brother, she and Rowan leave to grab something to eat, leaving Soran and me alone on the bridge. As I sit at my station, I pull up the nav charts. Waving my hands, I scroll through the display like Soran taught me. We'll reach Telvo Station to refuel in roughly three hours. It's five solars until we reach Tr'lani's brother and then six solars more to Aerilon Prime.

  Soran sits at his station beside me, scanning the display as he checks the ship's readings. We were interrupted a few hours ago, but I want to continue our conversation.

  I take a deep and steeling breath and then turn to face him. "Soran?"

  His head snaps toward me, his reflective silver eyes staring at me intently. "Yes?"

  “I—” I lower my gaze a moment, uncertain how to begin. Softly biting my lower lip, I realize it's now or never. "I wanted to continue our conversation...from earlier."

  I'm surprised by how earnest he responds. "I do too." He reaches across to gently place his much larger hand over mine. "Liana, I don't want you to—”

  The doors whoosh open, and Rowan enters the bridge.

  Startled, I quickly pull my hand away from his.

  With a serious expression, Rowan takes his station and pulls up his console, studying the display. "I'll do one more sweep for enemy vessels before we decloak." He turns to me and grins. "You want to dock the ship when we reach Telvo?"

  I smile widely at Rowan's vote of confidence in my piloting skills. He loves his glider, and he wouldn't trust me to do this if he didn't think I was capable. How do I know this? Because I was the same way with my ship. I wouldn't let anyone even near the controls if I didn't have complete faith in their abilities. "Yeah, I'd love to."

  Soran’s jaw drops and then he turns to Rowan, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do you never trust me to dock the ship?"

  Rowan arches a condescending brow. "Because you suck at docking."

  I laugh, and Rowan joins in too as Soran stares at him with narrowed eyes.

  Now that I've taught them the Terran expression "you suck," it has become one of their favorite colorful expressions.

  I shake my head and then laugh even harder. What's my contribution to the vast Mosauran Empire? The spread of the Terran expression "you suck."

  Chapter 19

  Soran

  Alone. The thought fills me with dread. This is our last stop to refuel before we meet with Tr'lani's brother. My Ashaya will leave with them soon, and I doubt I'll ever see her again. My chest tightens as I study her out of the corner of my eye.

  My mind dri
fts back to the memory of her soft lips pressed to mine. My people do not do this, and when I tried to ask her what it meant, a dark flush spread across her cheeks, and she apologized for having done it in the first place. I suspect it means something more than gratitude or friendship, but I was unwilling to press her further. That she gifted me her touch in the first place humbles me. Especially after all she has been through.

  Seated at her station, her expression is serious as she stares at the nav display. Her fingers move deftly across the control panel as she charts our course safely around another asteroid field. Small chunks of debris hit the outer hull, echoing loudly through the ship's metal walls. She chews nervously on her lower lip. "We're still hitting some of the smaller pieces."

  "It is unavoidable," I reply. "You are doing well. It is only the larger formations we need to avoid, and your course takes us around all of those."

  Turning her head, she smiles brightly at me, and I cannot help but smile widely in return. Her smiles are as brilliant as the night blooms of the silari—as beautiful as they are rare.

  The glider's proximity alert sounds just as a large black ship appears in the viewscreen. Her smile disappears, and all the color drains from her face.

  Quickly scanning the image, I determine it is a Lycaon ship. They are very similar to A'kai cruisers, and I know that's why she's afraid. I hate the worried look on her face. I wish I had killed Talel every time fear crosses her expression. I should have put the blaster to his head instead of his chest. Pressing the controls, I magnify the display. "It is not an A'kai vessel. Notice the design." I point to the rear engines. "It's a Lycaon ship. Very similar to the A'kai cruisers."

  Her shoulders visibly relax. "What are Lycaons? I don't think I've ever seen one before."

  I perform a quick search on the computer and pull up an image from the ship's directory. A Lycaon male fills the screen. It changes from humanoid form to lycan form and back.

  She inhales sharply.

  "What's wrong?"

  "They...when they change form," she whispers, her eyes are wide as she stares at the image, "they look just like werewolves."

  "Werewolves?"

  "Monsters of ancient Terran myth." Swallowing thickly, she turns her gaze to mine. "Are they bad?"

  Rowan waves a dismissive hand at the Lycaon ship. "They are a mostly nomadic race that travel in packs. They fear our people."

  "He's right," I add. "We have not had many dealings with them since the last Great War."

  Seemingly satisfied with our answer, she turns her attention back to Telvo station. "Do you know if there are any slavers here?"

  I clench my jaw, wishing I could reassure her completely, but I cannot speak an untruth. "It is possible, but we're so close to Mosauran space. It is highly unlikely anyone dealing in”—I pause a moment; the word "flesh" is sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I cannot bring myself to say it, not after what she's been through—“illegal contraband would be there."

  Liana

  The Lycaon ship moves out of range as we approach the station, and I'm glad. Their cruiser reminds me too much of the A'kai, and they look like werewolves when they shift. Werewolf and vampire stories always terrified me when I was a child.

  Focusing on my task, I begin my docking checklist to prepare the glider as we move closer to Telvo. "I've got this," I say out loud, giving myself a miniature pep talk. Surprisingly, I feel as confident piloting this vessel as I did the ones I used to fly for the Terran space program.

  A dull thud echoes along the outer hull as the docking clamps align with our ship. The display lights green a moment later, alerting me that we have a good connection. When I look over at Soran, he's already smiling at me.

  Rowan gives me an approving nod. "You are an excellent pilot, Liana."

  I'm practically beaming. "Thanks. You two are pretty good instructors."

  "We only taught you the basics. The rest is all you," he adds, using the new Terran lingo I've been teaching him. He gives me a thumbs up. "You've got this."

  Tr'lani waves over her shoulder as she disembarks with Rowan. They're off to see a Healer he found. Hopefully, she can repair Tr'lani's damaged wings.

  I step onto the ramp, and a wave of panic rushes through me. The last time I left the safety of the ship, we were targeted by slavers. I'm worried that this time won't be any different, and my heart begins racing as fear coils tight in my chest.

  I turn back to the glider. Everything inside me wants to run back through the airlock and seal it behind me. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and will myself to calm. I cannot let my fears control me. If I do, then I'm lost, and I'll never find my crew, my family, or my home.

  I am a Garza, and I come from a line of strong women. I can do this.

  "Ready?" Soran's voice snaps me back into focus, and I open my eyes to find his silver ones staring back at me intently.

  Drawing in a deep and steeling breath, I push down my fear and anchor myself in this moment. I'm alive. I survived because my will is stronger than the evil that tried to break me. And I have hope that I'll find my planet and see my family again. I've got this. "Let's go."

  Chapter 20

  Liana

  As we make our way through the promenade, I stare in awe at everything around me. The station is amazing. All glistening metal and glass, everything is so brightly lit it feels like we could be standing under the sun instead of artificial lighting. This place is a definite upgrade from the seedy stations Tr'lani and I were taken to as slaves. Everything is so clean and shiny, even the metal floor and wall panels reflect our images with sparkling clarity as we pass.

  The station is much larger than I first realized. Each level is a concentric ring lined with dozens of shops and restaurants. Aliens in every possible shape, size, and color stroll among us, but it's the Mosauran females that draw my attention.

  Most of them are at least half a head taller than the males, their muscular build putting even Soran and Rowan's exceptional forms to shame. Now, I'm really curious about the shav-rhokan—the mating battle—because it looks like it would take at least two Mosauran males to best a female in a fight.

  Soran smiles across at me. "Where would you like to go first?"

  I arch a teasing brow at him. "I believe I was promised a gourmet meal."

  "So you were," he grins. "And that is exactly where we are heading right now."

  I follow Soran through the throng of people, and after a few minutes, he points up ahead. "There it is."

  My stomach growls with renewed vigor at the sight of our target. As we get closer, the air grows thick with exotic spice. The rich scent reminding me a bit of my favorite Indian restaurant I used to visit frequently back home.

  We approach the counter, and my eyes go wide as I take in the kitchen behind it. One of those octopus-type aliens—a Krulta, I believe Soran called them—appears to be the chef. With a tentacle going in almost every direction, I marvel at how he's able to keep track of everything.

  One stirs food in a pan, while another grabs what looks like a starfish. The starfish wriggles against its hold, and I gasp in horror as the Krulta's whip-like tentacle flings it into a steaming pot. A pitiful, garbled squee fills the air as it thrashes in the boiling water before going completely still and silent.

  My jaw drops. I think I'm going to throw up.

  "What do you—” Soran starts to ask, but stops abruptly, his eyes widening in alarm as he looks down at me. "Are you all right?" He leans down, his silver gaze studying my expression in concern. "You look ill. What's wrong?"

  I open my mouth to speak, but the Krulta ladles the starfish out of the pot, slapping its body onto the counter just before another tentacle brings a knife down to bear. It slashes the pitiful thing open, using another tentacle to rip out the entrails. The neon green and yellow gloop slides off the counter onto the floor with a wet slap against the metal.

  Closing my eyes, I swallow against the bile rising in my throat as I turn away from the horrendou
s scene. Now, I think I understand why my friend, Amanda is a vegetarian.

  "Liana?" Soran's voice pulls me back from my thoughts. His entire face is a mask of concern as he stares down at me. "Your color has changed. You look...green. Is this normal for your species? I've never seen you do this before."

  I straighten, standing a bit taller, smoothing my hand over my hair to compose myself. Purposefully, avoiding looking back at the kitchen, I meet his gaze evenly. "I'd like a vegetarian dish."

  He blinks several times in confusion. "This word is not translating. What is 'vegetarian'?"

  "You know," I start, "plant-based instead of animal-based?"

  He nods and turns his attention to the menu. After a moment, he points to a few different items. "What about those?"

  I look down at the selections, unable to make heads or tails of the glyphs that I can only assume are the descriptions of each dish. Lifting my gaze to his, I shrug. "I don't know. Um...maybe something that isn't too spicy?"

  His gaze sparkles with barely restrained amusement as he gives me a slight smirk. "We should also take into account your pitifully tiny fangs...choose something you will be able to chew easily."

  I roll my eyes in mock frustration, and a teasing smile tugs at my lips. "My fangs are just fine like they are, thank you very much."

  At that moment, an Aerilon man walks up behind the counter. As soon as he sees us, his wings shoot out to his sides, and I gasp. They're so beautiful—like something straight out of every a fairy tale I've ever read about the fae. He smiles widely at me. "How can I help you, enchanting one?"

  Soran visibly stiffens beside me.

  From what I've seen, Tr'lani's people are strikingly handsome, and this guy is no exception. My eyes drift once more over his sparkly wings, and I'm practically mesmerized.