by Juno Wells
She looked around and realized the security officers were looking at her expectantly. Her cheeks heated. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
Normally all space port workers had to speak the universal languages, but the stress and chaos of the attack pretty much reverted everyone back to their native language. An imposing four-armed alien repeated his requests, and Isla gratefully concentrated on interpreting. She had to focus. "They have two officers who can escort the engineering team and repair teams to the generators and survival systems; there's more damage than they initially thought. They're requesting the medical teams report to the two locations in red on that map, which is where they're triaging the wounded and determining who to treat."
The different teams set off, though Rowan squeezed her hand before jogging off to fix more complicated machinery, and Isla focused on the next barrage of tangled grammar and syntax. Her brain hurt already, not just from the day before but from the increasing amounts of smoke in the bay and the blaring alarms. "They need assistance fighting the fires, so if the rest of your crew can follow the Pyrti officer over there — the blue officer with tentacles — they would be of great help. Finally, the captain wants to discuss the events with you and see if the technical crews can assist in recovering some of the information from the surveillance system outside the port. They're concerned about who attacked them, obviously, and want to get your interpretation of the data they have."
Vaant nodded, directing his crew to assist with the firefighting, then he and Vrix and Isla followed the four-armed alien deeper into the port. No one spoke. Isla tried to concentrate on her breathing through the oxygen-heavy life support of the survival suit, though her lungs burned and the smell of smoke seemed to leak through the filters. She knew it had to be her imagination, but it didn't make her feel any better.
In the control room of the port, the captain greeted Vaant in a clipped tone and passable Middle Xarav, though he looked relieved when Vaant nodded at Isla. "My interpreter is very capable. I'm sure any language you find more comfortable is well within her repertoire."
Despite her headache and heartache over her entire career being a lie, Vaant's praise warmed her from head to toe. It wasn't flowery or overdone, but professional and matter-of-fact. Like the way she admired Griggs's ability to fight. Isla saluted the port captain and waited for him to speak.
After a slight pause, he took a deep breath. "We have footage of the attack and believe we know the ship responsible, though we cannot yet contact the Alliance to report it. You will see why in a moment."
Isla translated as the captain, another four-armed alien who spoke passable Redwani, motioned to his technical officers to cue up the replay of what happened. The moment the viewing screen filled with the previous day's video, Isla's heart sank. It became all too real as they watched the ship approach in real time and hail the port, wanting to dock so they could resupply and offload some cargo. As the ship maneuvered to dock, though, the hull markings became very, very clear. Nausea brewed in Isla's stomach.
It was the Argo. There was no mistaking it.
The port captain, Dyrgic, watched Vaant more than the video. "From her markings, she is an Alliance ship. You can understand our hesitation in broadcasting the distress call. We tried to contain the damage, but there was too much. She wouldn't leave us — I believe the Argo fully intended to destroy the port and everyone on it. For what purpose, I don't know."
Vaant's normally grim expression turned grimmer still as Isla repeated each word. The whole ship tilted around her and Isla had to reach out and steady herself on the Xaravian, though from the way he looked at her, no one else noticed everything going sideways. She tried to shake off the vertigo as she faced all the lies Witz and the Alliance told her. Everything she'd contributed to that meant more attacks like these in the past, exploitation and damage done to innocent ship and planets that she believed were justified.
Vaant nodded to the other captain. "The Argo attacked another ship. We were towing her to your port for repair and refit. She should be on your radar now. We do not know what the Argo's plan is, to be honest. They left the Primus Major sector with a cargo hold full of stolen technology, though I can't imagine there is much to be gained by slowing down to attack civilian ships and ports. Did you receive any messages from the Argo before they attacked? Any demands for ransom?"
Isla hated saying every word. She nearly choked on them, the atmosphere on the bridge growing more and more stifling with each syllable and accusation. The Argo attacked innocent civilians, not once but at least twice. Maybe more. They'd fallen off the Galaxos's radar for some time, according to Vaant, so there was no telling what other damage had been done. But she translated every word, and tried to ignore that Vaant still held her arm to steady her. He felt like the only solid thing around her as even the floor betrayed her.
She wondered if maybe there was more damage to her lungs than anyone thought, or maybe it was just the smoke and heat of the survival suits.
Dyrgic's crew opened up another screen in order to track the squid ship's approach, and started directing them where to dock and how to maneuver around the damaged parts of the port. Their captain remained focused on the screen that slowly showed the previous attack unfolding. The Argo avoided the port's defenses easily, their shields absorbing the few counterattacks the port managed to send out, and targeted the generators, engines, and survival systems for the port with unerring accuracy.
Almost as if they'd done it before.
Vaant studied her closely, leaning in to murmur, "Do you need to sit?"
"I'm fine," she whispered, but it was a total and complete lie. She wasn't fine. Her entire life was a lie.
The Xaravian didn't look convinced, and instead gestured for a chair and one of the packets of water that Vrix carried. Isla didn't even resist when Vaant nudged her into the chair and hooked the water to her survival suit system. He studied the footage of the Argo attack, conferring quietly with Vrix as they replayed it and changed angles and debated Newton only knew what, and Isla watched it all in complete shock.
Dyrgic dragged his captain's chair over to sit next to her, concern on his broad, flat face. "You look unwell. Do you require a medic?"
"No, thank you, Captain." Isla tried to smile, though she wished she could have torn off her helmet and breathed in cool, fresh air. There wasn't much of it on the port, or on the Galaxos, for that matter. "It's just… distressing to see a Fleet ship attack your port."
"You must not have spent much time around Fleet ships," he said. "Or spent much of your time in the wild quadrants."
Isla should have corrected him and admitted to be a Fleet officer herself, albeit one in a borrowed uniform, but for the first time, she felt like she stood a chance of hearing the unvarnished truth about the Alliance. "I have spent most of my life studying, that is true enough."
Dyrgic gripped his chair with two hands as a great rumble rolled through the port, and on the other side of the room, two of the giant alarm lights stopped flashing. Isla wondered if that was a good or bad sign, but since no one else seemed concerned, she didn't get up and bolt for the dock. His other two arms waved for his crew to bring something that Isla couldn't quite decipher. Then the captain leaned back and spoke to her as he watched Vaant and Vrix study the security logs.
"You can trust the Xaravians. Rough around the edges and with the most awful taste in food and drink, but they're fierce defenders of what is right and good. Stay with them and you will see everything you need to in this universe."
"I often wonder if they're involved in things that the Alliance would frown upon," she said slowly, picking her words with care. Maybe there was a reason the Argo attacked the port, even though protocol would have dictated arresting the captain and convening a council to judge his crimes. "Perhaps this port was used as a waystation for others engaged in questionable activities?"
Dyrgic didn't have eyebrows, but Isla imagined them rising in disbelief as he looked at her. “Space ports a
re neutral. We do not allow any of that sort of thing on this base, and certainly would not allow anyone to use us as a laundry for illegal activities."
Isla held her hands up, feeling more miserable for having offended him. "I meant no offense by it, sir, I promise. I have much to learn."
"Yes, you do." He levered to his feet and gave her a curt nod, though he paused to turn back and add, "They say you arrived with two Earther women wearing Fleet uniforms. Be careful around them. You might think them friends, but they only have the wealth and power of the Alliance in their hearts. You are better off with the Xaravians."
When Isla looked up, Vaant stood in front of her. "What were you talking about?"
"He warned me about the Alliance," she said, about the only words she could say without choking. She shouldn't have asked about the questionable activities. Any captain would have reacted poorly. She only hoped Dyrgic wouldn't hold it against Vaant and the others. "And about Rowan and Maisy."
"I know," Vaant said. "They asked us to get them off the port, so we sent them back to the ship. Are you feeling well? You look... an odd color."
Isla wanted to stand, but wasn't sure her legs would hold her. How could she explain this all to Griggs and Violet and the others when she didn't want to believe it herself? "I'm fine. I just need a moment to gather my thoughts."
He didn't believe her, but he let her sit and stare at the viewing screens as the squid ship slowly approached and docked, though the damaged ship nearly ran into the Galaxos when its engines failed to fire. Vaant muttered curses that even she hadn't known, and Isla tried to memorize them before he noticed her paying attention. More words were always better.
She still didn't feel well when Dyrgic returned and needed assistance communicating with Vaant, and the day stretched out ahead of her with no end in sight as they reviewed activity logs, repair estimates and requirements, and everything the Galaxos might need to buy to resupply after assisting both the squid ship and the port. Isle focused on her job and training — finally, she was doing what she'd spent so long training and hoping for, and she wasn't going to let a little lightheadedness prevent her from being the best interpreter she could be. As the day wore on, though, it was the memory of Vaant's praise that kept her going. She didn't want to prove him wrong.
Chapter 16
Vaant
The tasks for the day kept building up as they remained on the port, and it seemed as though Isla was one of the only people in that quadrant who could interpret for the squids, the port, and the Xaravians. She looked completely exhausted by the time Vaant shook hands with the port captain and retreated to the Galaxos. They remained docked with the port, so they could continue repairing the port the next day while they resupplied on fuel and food.
As the day wore on and more evidence piled up, it became clear the Argo attacked the port in order to steal fuel, food, other supplies, and some cargo that remained on the port for the next transport ship to go through that sector. Dyrgic didn't know exactly what the cargo was, since it had been dropped off by another Alliance ship under strict orders to wait for another transporter, but Vaant could just imagine what it might contain. With each additional charge against the Argo and the Alliance itself, Isla looked more and more forlorn. More than once Vaant caught Vrix watching him, almost judging the decisions he made to see if the interpreter wielded too much influence.
So Vaant stayed on the port as long as he would have if Isla were hale and hearty, though it pained him to see her lean against the chair and the wall and occasionally him. They ate briefly on the port, but he heard her start to make that strange growling noise he remembered from the night before, and Vaant knew he couldn't push her any further, regardless of what Vrix might have said. Vaant needed his interpreter healthy and capable, not run down and worn out. They finally agreed to break for the night and return to the work the next morning, since the generators stabilized and the fires were put out, and Vaant took Isla's arm in his hand again so he could lead her back to the dock.
She stumbled a bit and he resisted the urge to pick her up and carry her back to his ship, particularly as she straightened her shoulders and scowled, daring anyone to comment. Luckily Vrix was distracted by reports from one of his security officers on how much damage Griggs managed to do in the course of the day.
Vaant paused in the docking bay on the Galaxos to remove his survival suit and helmet, and helped Isla when she fumbled her helmet and nearly dropped it. He moved slowly as she got flustered and more upset, until her eyes reddened and her lips trembled and he expected some sort of emotional crisis. Rage, maybe, or grief, or something else he couldn't name. His understanding of human expressions was somewhat limited. But whatever was about to happen, Isla didn't seem to want it to happen in public, by the way she rushed to get away from him and the rest of the Xaravians.
Vaant held onto her arm to prevent her from rushing off, and dismissed the rest of the crew. He walked her away from the docking bay and back toward the quarters she shared with the rest of the Earther women. Isla's steps slowed as they approached, though, and Vaant slowed with her. Isla hesitated quite a way from the doors, as if her feet stuck to the floor.
Vaant didn't push, and when the guard stationed outside the doors glanced his direction, Vaant waved at him to move farther away so they had a little privacy. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't know what to tell them," she said after a long pause. She stared down the hall and shook her head. "There's so much that isn't... I just don't know if I can face them yet, knowing what I know."
"I know. I'm sorry." Vaant took her arm again and turned around, starting to walk again. "Maybe you need a moment to collect your thoughts."
She didn't try to pull away, but instead leaned against his side as she trudged down the hall. "A moment or a lifetime. It just doesn't make sense."
Vaant didn't know what to say. He tried to imagine what she must have felt, learning the Alliance she served was just a facade, but it wasn't easy. They walked in silence through most of the ship, nearly back to the bridge, until Vaant opened the door to his quarters. Isla hesitated in the hall, looking into the large sitting room with comfortable low couches and piles of pillows and blankets. Vaant didn't want to push her or make her go inside, and held his breath as she debated. Isla gave him a tired smile, sadness around her eyes, and tilted her head toward his rooms. "I'd really like to clean up, but I don't know if I can trust you to be a gentleman."
"I don't know this word, ‘gentleman.’ But the Xarav warrior code is very clear on this situation — you are safe and protected in my home, and welcome to everything within." Vaant's thoughts strayed to having her in his room every night, to seeing her sprawled in his bed, her limbs tangled with his... He cleared his throat. "You need not worry about anything, including me."
"Okay," Isla said, and slid into his rooms. She hesitated in the sitting room as he entered behind her and the door whooshed shut, and Isla glanced back at him. "This is interesting... decor. Is it Xaravian?"
"Of course." Vaant walked in and reached for the tablet on the small table between the couches, punching in a whole feast of foods to be delivered for dinner. No telling what she wanted to eat, so he ordered nearly everything they had, including more of the Xaravian delicacies. He concentrated on the menu, and not on the soft glow of her skin in the dim light or the gentle features that just begged to be kissed. "My family was one of the last nomadic tribes. This is all traditional furniture, from when we lived in tents and traveled by wagons and haugmawt. They are like Earther camels, though they are lizards."
Isla's dark eyebrows rose, and her hand drifted over some of the pillows, stroking the fabric. "It's quite lovely. I've never seen anything like it."
"You should see the grand tents on Xarav." Vaant went through one of the doors to his bedroom and then to the water closet and facilities, turning on lights as he went. She followed, wandering into his bedroom but not looking at the low bed. Vaant pulled out fresh towels and soaps and some o
f the luxury items he'd hoarded but never intended to use. He wanted her to have the best. "It's amazing at festival time."
She nodded and hid a yawn, searching for words.
Vaant pointed at the shower and the stack of towels, and pulled some of his comfortable workout clothes down from the closet to offer. "Take your time. I ordered dinner, though it might take a while. You're welcome to wear these."
Isla smiled with half her mouth. "If those are yours, they'll be absolutely huge on me. But thank you."
His skin warmed and blue tones drifted through him. He loved the idea of her in his clothes, not just because it would mark her as his even more, but because they wouldn't stay on her. Vaant inclined his head and retreated before he said anything else or kissed her full lips again.
The door closed behind him and he exhaled, trying to relax his fists from where they clenched at his sides. Maybe bringing the interpreter to his rooms wasn't the best idea for his self-control, particularly when the code dictated he couldn't touch her without a clear invitation.
Vaant arranged the couches and pillows so they could sit while eating, and went to the door as it dinged with a visitor. He expected the food, though it was a little early, but the door slid open and revealed Vrix instead. The security chief's scales rattled as he looked around. "The interpreter is still with you, correct?"
"Yes." Vaant didn't invite him in. He didn't want another male in the room when Isla was just steps away, naked and covered in precious water. "She didn't want to go back to the others just yet."
Vrix's expression remained unreadable, but Vaant could just imagine the other warrior's opinion on the matter. It didn't take long for that opinion to become very clear. "It's dangerous to have her in your quarters, Captain. She could get into your files or the ship's control system. She could send a distress call or summon the Argo again... Any number of things, none of which are good for us."