by S. E. Smith
“Excuse me.” Vilarra stepped forward to ensure she’d be seen. “Can you please help me?”
The woman smiled over the equipment she carried in her four arms. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for Gib.” She clasped her hands together until her knuckles hurt. “Have you seen him? Did he come back with you?”
“Gib?” The Defender’s smile disappeared. “You’re Vilarra?”
She nodded. The woman knew her name, so that had to be good, right? Though the Defender’s change in expression made her believe otherwise.
“So, nobody’s told you what happened to him yet?”
Her stomach clenched. All hope of seeing Gib again melted away. “Um, no.”
“You need to get home right away.” The Defender nudged her head toward the village. “There’s someone waiting there for you.”
Dread pooled low in her gut. Her feet heavy like lead, she trudged back to her hut, unsure if she wanted to learn the fate of her recent lover. He was a Defender, after all. They risked their lives every day to save planets across the universe from the Erebus. Had he failed to return from his last mission? Made the ultimate sacrifice while saving others? Yet, why would she be notified? She wasn’t family. And they’d only spent two days and one amazing night together. Not enough time to make her a significant part of his life. Unless that night had meant as much to him as it had to her. The Defender she’d talked to had to have learned her name somehow. She doubted King Luchivus had learned by name any of the commoners who worked in the palace. All the more reason for her to delay returning to her hut. She didn’t want to be told Gib had died. Instead, she longed to hold onto the hope he would one day return, that maybe not everyone she loved left her forever.
But that dream would soon end. Her home lay ahead, and she could already see two people out front, waiting for her. One stood holding a large white container, while the other sat in some kind of chair, his or her head wrapped in gauze. Had that Defender been injured on the same mission as Gib? Injured.... Maybe....
She ran the last few strides, pleading to the universe for the person in the chair to be Gib. With all the bandages, he must have been badly injured, but at least he wasn’t dead. “Gib?”
The person in the chair turned his head, and in that instant, her heart swelled. Her Defender had returned. “Hi.”
The simple word came out in a hoarse whisper, as if even that took a lot of effort. Yet he still reached for her hand, the mostly innocent contact appeasing her lonely soul.
“You must be Vilarra,” the other person said. A Warwa dressed in a doctor’s uniform, she gripped the handles of Gib’s chair and turned him toward the entrance of Vilarra’s hut. “Can we go inside and talk?”
“Yes, of course.” She ducked in front of them and opened the door. Inside, she barely had enough room for the three of them and Gib’s rolling chair, but no one seemed ready to complain.
The doctor put the case on the table then reached into her pocket. “Before we discuss why Gib is here, I have someone to return to you.”
Someone? Vilarra hadn’t seen anyone else with them. But she didn’t have a chance to ask about the reference before a furry white ball leaped from the doctor’s hand toward her. Its front claws clung to her shirt, and she cupped the tibbar in her palm so it didn’t fall off. It licked the tip of her finger where the other one had bitten her. She recognized this one. “Elynyn. You found her.”
“Stowaway,” Gib rasped, the exposed part of his face suddenly pale. “Saved me.”
That would explain why she hadn’t seen her tibbar since Gib had left. She yearned to hear how Elynyn had saved him, but her concern remained on her Defender. She turned to the doctor. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes.” The doctor nodded. “Traveling through the wormhole from the barracks to your home drained him of energy, but we needed a fast and easy way to get him here. Some rest will help. If you don’t mind, I’ll get him settled, and then we can discuss his care.”
“His care?” Why hadn’t he remained on the Alliance spacecraft? Hemera wasn’t any place for an injured Defender to recover. Even if she preferred him with her rather than anywhere else. She didn’t have the time, knowledge, or supplies to care for him.
The doctor didn’t answer her, instead adjusting Gib’s chair until it spread out into a bed. Side rails came up, and the doctor reached into her case for something. After pulling out a package, she unwrapped a needle and stuck it into Gib’s arm, injecting a clear liquid. “That will make him sleep for some time, give him reprieve from the pain.” She gestured Vilarra to step away from him. “Now, regarding his care. He has broken ribs and a wound across the side of his face. Both have been mended by our equipment, but he is still very fragile, needs time to heal.”
“Why here? What if he gets worse?” She didn’t want to be responsible for the death of a Defender, especially after he’d managed to live through whatever mission he’d just been on.
“I’m not worried about that, but if he does seem worse, all you have to do is contact me through his wrist com.” The doctor handed the gadget to Vilarra. “Just say Doctor to contact myself or my brother.”
“But, why? I have a job at the palace. I can’t be here all the time.” She only came back home to sleep most days. As much as she wished to have him there, he needed to be with the doctor.
“He asked to return here.” The doctor cleared her throat. “Or, rather, he repeated your name over and over until we had to sedate him. One of his squad mates told us who you were. And regarding your position at the palace.... It has been temporarily filled by a woman named Beckalie.”
“What? How?” She’d worked her way up to that position. How could they replace her so easily? When Gib left again, she’d have nothing to go back to, nothing to occupy her time.
“I spoke with the co-leader of the council. Frotathia.” The doctor knocked on the hard shell of her case. “I stressed how important it was for this planet to help out the Alliance, and also how it would be beneficial for Hemera to have an Alliance-trained medical team. You will be the first member of the team, and I will train you over the com unit.”
“Are you serious?” She placed a hand on her chest, sure the doctor had to be deceiving her.
“Very.” The doctor glanced at Gib then back to Vilarra. “Do you accept the offer?”
“Yes.” The word didn’t come out loud enough, so she repeated herself. “Yes, I do.” In the kitchen, she had a permanent position but nowhere else to go from there. But as a healer, no, as part of the medical team, she could do so much more to help others, not only the royal family, but commoners as well. And the Alliance would train her. All thanks to Gib. She looked forward to the moment he awoke so she could spend every moment taking care of him until he had to leave again, but until then, she had a lot to learn. “Please, teach me what I need to know.”
With a gasp, Gib flicked his eyes open. He’d been back on Yarwa fighting the Erebus. Only, this time, Vilarra was there with him, tangled in the tentacles of an Erebus. He’d tried to save her, but wound up grabbed from behind by another of the enemy. It squeezed him, tighter and tighter, until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t save her if he couldn’t save himself. Then he heard the squeak of her tibbar, not around him, but in his head. And he realized he’d been dreaming.
In his peripheral vision, he spotted Elynyn perched on his shoulder. Her whiskers tickled his neck. She hopped onto his chest and faced him, her nose wiggling away. She had saved him from being killed by the Erebus and now saved him from a worse dream.
“You’re awake.” Vilarra rose from her bed then leaned over him, running her fingertips across his forehead and down the unbandaged side of his face. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was crushed by an Erebus.” He sucked in air through his teeth, the pain suddenly more prominent.
“Oh, you’re hurting again.” She rushed to the other side of his bed and opened the case his doctor had left. “I know what to do. I
can help.” After spraying something cold on his arm, she slammed a square patch onto the same spot.
He winced, the impact jarring his broken ribs.
“I’m sorry.” Vilarra frowned, her eyes glassy as if she was about to cry. “The doctor said to press it hard, so the tiny needle would puncture your skin.”
“It’s okay.” He reached out for her hand, never wanting to make her upset. Not when he depended on her so much. “I’m just happy to be here.”
Placing her hand in his palm, she drew the fingers of her other hand across his bandaged ribs. “How did you survive? The doctor said your squad found you buried under a bunch of dead Erebus, tangled in their tentacles.”
“Not sure.” He’d tried to remember that moment over and over, but it remained a blur, only coming to him in inaccurate nightmares. “I was killing them. One knocked my weapon away. Grabbed me from behind.” He gasped for a breath, his lung capacity reduced by his broken ribs. “It crushed me. Then it let go. Fell on top of me.”
Talking in short sentences felt awkward, but it kept the pain reduced while he waited for the patch Vilarra gave him to work. “Was already dead. Had tiny puncture wounds. Can only guess. Elynyn bit it. Saved my life. Turns out tibbar saliva.... poisonous to Erebus.”
He couldn’t say another word, overwrought by pain and the overwhelming need to sleep. But he wanted to stay in the present for longer, ensure Vilarra was real, not another dream about to go wrong.
“Well, I’m so glad you both survived.” She leaned down and kissed his lips.
In a temporary reprieve from the agony, he wrapped an arm around her, never wanting to let her go. Eventually, he would have to, though. When he had fully healed, he’d return to active duty, protecting the universe from the Erebus. But his heart would remain on Hemera. Any free time he had, he’d spend with Vilarra, and if she agreed, they’d start a family. Eventually, one of their children would become a Defender, allow him to retire from service and spend the rest of his days with the woman who’d stolen his heart.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And for the first time, he could read her thoughts. Nothing blocked her mind anymore. In fact, she broadcast her feelings clearly to him.
She stroked his cheek. “You somehow managed to break down the walls I’d built around my heart. I love you.”
But he already knew, had felt the walls crumble as he’d spent more time with her and caught more glimpses. Now, he could see her dreams for the future matched his own.
A squeak interrupted the moment, and Elynyn nuzzled into his neck, her warm body vibrating with every soft chirr.
“Seems Elynyn loves you, too.” Vilarra smiled, lighting up the entire hut and his heart.
He’d found his home. Regardless of where he’d grown up, or where the Alliance sent him, his heart would always remain here.
Why Jessica wrote GIB AND THE TIBBAR:
When I started writing the Galactic Defenders series, I realized I didn’t have pets in any of my previous stories. That was very strange since I’ve had pets my entire life, from dogs and cats to guinea pigs, ferrets, rabbits, and a newt. In Bryce, I remedied the issue of no pets by including a pet tibbar who belonged to one of the secondary characters. So when I was asked to be a part of the second Pets in Space anthology, I decided to use the same pet, and write the story of how two characters mentioned in Bryce met and fell in love.
Also by Jessica E. Subject
Galactic Defenders series
Bryce
Jager
Alien Next Door series
Alien Adoration
Alien Admirer
Alien Attraction
Accidental Romance
Beyond Reach
Cosmic Sutra
Hey, Santa
It Took A Zombie Apocalypse
Made For Her
About the Author
Jessica E. Subject is the author of science fiction romance, mostly alien romances, ranging from sweet to super hot. Sometimes she dabbles in paranormal and contemporary as well, bringing to life a wide variety of characters. In her stories, you can not only meet a sexy alien or two, but also clones and androids. You may be transported to a dystopian world where rebels are fighting to live and love, or to another planet for a romantic rendezvous.
When Jessica is not reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to go to fitness class and walk her Great Pyrenees/Retriever her family adopted from the local animal shelter.
Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers.
Sign up for Jessica’s newsletter.
jessicasubject.com
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Diane Burton for helping me to figure out what worked and what didn’t in this story, and Kate Richards, my amazing editor.
Pet Trade
A Central Galactic Concordance Novella
By
Carol Van Natta
About Pet Trade
An injured veterinarian and a cyborg with unusual pets must join forces to save their town.
The vast Central Galactic Concordance strictly prohibits genetic experimentation and alteration of humans on any of its 500 member planets. Animals aren't so lucky.
On a frontier planet, veterinarian Bethnee Bakonin made a home for herself in the frozen north. Her minder talent for healing all kinds of animals would ordinarily assure her success, but her unwilling stint in the shady pet trade industry left her damaged and scared. She works around her limitations as best she can, and rescues pet trade castoffs.
"Volunteered" for a black-box research project, elite forces Jumper Axur Tragon now has dangerous experimental tech in his cybernetic limbs. He escaped and crash-landed a stolen freighter in the northern mountains of a frontier planet, only to discover a secret shipment of designer pets was part of the cargo. Determined to do right by them, he enlists reluctant Bethnee's aid in caring for them—a definite challenge, considering Bethnee is terrified of him.
When greedy mercenaries come raiding, can Axur and Bethnee work together to overcome their limitations, with help from their unusual pets, and save the day?
“Pet Trade” is a standalone novella in Carol Van Natta's multi-award-winning Central Galactic Concordance space opera, adventure, and romance series. It events take place between Pico’s Crush and Jumper’s Hope, but is separate from the main story arc.
Chapter One
Location: Frontier Planet Del’Arche * GDAT 3241.155
Veterinarian Bethnee Bakonin limped toward the cage slowly. The huge dire wolf inside stood and eyed her with wary interest, but not fear or anger. The wolf’s bright blue, intelligent eyes contrasted beautifully against her thick coat of charcoal grey and black fur. Bethnee reached out with another thread of her talent to get a sense of the designer animal’s health. “Where did she come from?”
A capricious, chilly wind blew a dust devil into the center of the paddock, then let it go. Fall always arrived early in the foothills of the northernmost mountains on Del’Arche.
“A boutique alpaca ranch down south. New client.” Nuñez frowned and crossed her arms. “Idiots thought a top-of-the-line, protector-class dire wolf would make a great herd dog.” She made a disgusted sound. “They were going to shoot her because she wouldn’t let the herd out of the barn. I convinced them to sign her over to me.”
Bethnee eyed Nuñez. “How much did she cost?” Designer animals from reputable pet-trade dealers weren’t cheap. Recreating extinct mammals from Earth’s Pleistocene period was perennially popular, because it avoided the Central Galactic Concordance government’s multiple prohibitions against altering cornerstone species like wolves and coyotes. Bethnee had been saving her hard credits to buy her own flitter, instead of having to constantly borrow Nuñez’s, but the rescued dire wolf took priority.
Nuñez shook her head. “Zero. They bought her cheap with a flatlined ID chip, so she’s probably stolen. I told
them I’d take care of the problem for free, and that it’d be our little secret.” Knowing Nuñez, she’d pushed them with her low-level empath talent, so they’d be afraid of getting caught, and happy to be rid of the evidence. Nuñez had no compunction against using her minder talent to manipulate humans who hurt animals, which was one of several reasons why she and Bethnee got along so well.
Bethnee focused on sensing the wolf’s mind. The fleeting thoughts were complex, with deep memories. The wolf had known and felt pack love for other humans, but hadn’t seen them for a long time. The ranchers had beaten her to get her into the cage, and she didn’t know what she’d done wrong.
Bethnee contained her talent and her anger, then told Nuñez what she’d found. “She’s also got tracers in every major joint. Can I use your small surgical suite this afternoon?” The portable unit contained micro surgical tools with and an AI-assist built in, and would make quick work of the excisions.
“Sure.” Nuñez tilted her head toward the doors of the vetmed clinic behind her. “Let’s get her inside.”
“Does she respond to a name?”
“Didn’t come up.” Nuñez looked at the clock. “I’ll make you a deal. After I put the flitter away, help me feed and water the yaks, and I’ll help you with the tracers.”
“It’ll snow tonight.” Nuñez lifted the last bulky bag of feed and unsealed it. At age one hundred and nine, the woman looked like a plump rural grandmother who printed heritage quilts and baked cookies, but she was strong and smart, and could control a herd of fifty large buffalo with her minder talent.