Rokul

by Elin Wyn

  Tella started off toward the Crooked Swiggen.

  “Where are you going?” I asked. “We have to report to my superior as soon as possible.”

  “I told you, I need a drink,” she said without looking back. She pushed her way into the squat, dirty building and disappeared. I looked between the door and my aerial unit a few times before letting out a long groan.

  “One drink and we’re out of here,” I muttered to myself as I stalked through the door of the Crooked Swiggen.

  Tella had already made herself at home, standing by the center table. She shrugged off her gear pack and the thigh-length earth-green jacket she wore, revealing the gray thin-strapped top beneath.

  The first clear look I had of her struck me and, without even meaning to, I took a moment to admire her long, lean body.

  Her curves were another surprise, another nice one. A very nice one. And then I noticed something else.

  In the low light, they were almost impossible to see, but her arms were covered in scars in all shapes and sizes. For her small stature, she was certainly tougher than she looked. Her scars reminded me of mine.

  Battle scars.

  That explained why she was so unfazed by her encounter with the carnivorous flower.

  By the time I joined Tella at the table, the barkeep had already placed a drink in front of her. She picked it up and downed it in one gulp. She set the drink down with a hard thump and signaled for another one.

  “Oh, no,” I warned her. “You’ve had your drink. It’s time to go.”

  “I almost died. Let a girl have a few drinks,” she said dismissively. When the barkeep came back, he had two drinks. One for Tella and one for me.

  “What the skrell,” I shrugged and downed my drink right along with her. She wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad day.

  “That’s more like it,” she grinned. Her eyes were shining and her movements were looser. I hadn’t observed human inebriation often, but those were two of the most consistent symptoms. I wondered if Tella would start dancing wildly, crying uncontrollably, or just fall asleep. Those were other common symptoms I’d seen.

  I decided none of those things would be appropriate for Tella.

  “That’s it,” I said firmly. “We’re leaving now.”

  “I haven’t gotten paid yet.” Tella shook her head.

  “What?”

  “I was hired to come out here,” she said. “I’m not leaving until I get paid for the work I’ve done.”

  “You did the work before receiving payment?” I groaned. “I thought you were a professional.”

  “I got half up front,” she said defensively. “It’s not my first time doing this, you know? But I need the rest.”

  “Who needs to pay you?” I asked.

  “The project foreman. A man named Gille,” she replied.

  “Foreman? What project is happening here?” I asked. As far as I knew, the rebuilding of Fraga was delayed until further notice.

  “I think the people here are still hopeful that Fraga will be rebuilt sooner rather than later,” Tella reasoned. “I can’t think of any other reason why someone would choose to live out here.”

  “Where can we find Gille? We need to get you back to Nyheim so I can get off probation,” I said.

  “Oh,” she said with a knowing grin. “That’s right. I forgot you were in deep trouble with your betters.”

  “General Rouhr isn’t my better, and I’m not in deep trouble. I’m in standard trouble,” I explained.

  “So, this sort of punishment assignment is normal for you?” she queried, lifting her brows.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but,” I scrubbed my hand through my short hair, “it’s not uncommon for me to run my mouth,” I admitted.

  “Somehow, I don’t have a hard time imagining that,” Tella giggled as she took a sip of the fresh drink the bartender had procured for her.

  “You’re a real charmer,” I sighed.

  “I know,” she beamed. “Complimenting me won’t get me out of this bar and into your little space ship. I’m not leaving without my money.”

  “Fine,” I groaned. “Where is he?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “I understand that you don’t want to make my life easier. You don’t know me. But can you please try not to make my life any harder?” I gave her a sharp smile.

  “I spent the better part of an hour suspended over a mouth full of teeth,” she replied. “And then I lost the incredibly rare sample. I think I’ve had the worse day. Since he’s not here, Gille’s probably crashed back at wherever he sleeps.”

  “Which is where?” I pushed.

  Tella lifted a finger, indicating for me to be silent while she took another sip of her drink. I rolled my eyes. This slight, scar-covered botanist was quickly becoming a pain in my ass, which I believed was the proper description, if I had learned correctly from Leena.

  “I’ve only met the guy once. I don’t make a habit of learning where strange men sleep,” she replied. “We’ll simply have to find him in the morning. I’m sure he’ll be at the same barstool he was at today. There’s not a lot of places to go in Rigkon, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “I noticed,” I grumbled. “Excuse me, I must call my superior.”

  “Calling for backup?” She giggled as I stood up from the table.

  “Something like that,” I muttered as I walked out of the Crooked Swiggen. I took out my comm unit and reached out to General Rouhr.

  “I expected you back hours ago,” he said when he answered.

  “So did I, sir. I spent hours in the forest searching for the botanist,” I reported.

  “Well, where is she?” General Rouhr demanded. For a brief moment, I considered lying and telling the general that I hadn’t found the botanist, but I wisely decided against it.

  “At the moment, she’s getting drunk,” I replied.

  “What?” General Rouhr barked.

  “She’s out here on a job and she refuses to leave until she’s been paid. She’s had a few drinks while waiting,” I explained.

  “Perfect,” General Rouhr sighed. “She’ll be in no condition to travel in an aerial unit. Find a place to sleep. Stay there for the night. Make sure she gets enough rest. If we’re lucky, she’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  General Rouhr disconnected.

  This wasn’t the outcome I wanted.

  I walked back into the Crooked Swiggen. Tella had moved on to her fourth drink.

  “We’re staying here for the night,” I told her. Her upper lip curled up involuntarily. At least we felt the same way about this place.

  I walked past the table and went straight for the bar.

  “We need beds for the night,” I told the barkeep.

  “Guesthouse is down the road,” he grunted in response.

  “I’ll have another of what she’s having.” I gestured to Tella. The barkeep just nodded.

  With a fresh drink in hand, I sauntered over to Tella’s table and took a seat. If I was going to be stuck here for a night, I was going to enjoy it.

  “You look less disgruntled,” Tella observed.

  “Oh, I’m still disgruntled,” I corrected her. “But now I’m disgruntled with a drink in my hand.”

  “That makes two of us,” Tella grinned, her smile lighting up the dim room.

  I smiled back and took a long sip of my drink.

  Tella

  If I were in a real bar, after six drinks I’d be unconscious, if not sick to my stomach.

  But the Crooked Swiggen watered their drinks down, probably to make their bottles last longer. By my calculation, I’d consumed the equivalent of two normal drinks and I was nowhere near as drunk as I wanted to be.

  I signaled Swiggy behind the bar for another drink. He obliged.

  Even though I knew the drinks were watered down, old Swiggen charged as much as a bar in the capital city would. I wanted to call him on it, but I fea
red he would cut me off and that would be far worse.

  I was going to blow the first half of my payment at this grimy hole in the wall.

  Dammit.

  At least the company was good.

  In addition to being handsome, dense, and honest, Rokul also had a decent sense of humor. Now that he’d had a few drinks in him as well, he was less of an ass.

  “I still don’t understand what you do!” he exclaimed. “I thought botanists grew plants and then looked at their plants under a microscope to learn how to grow better plants! That’s what botanists do on my home planet.”

  “You have botanists on your planet?” I asked.

  “It has a different name but it’s basically the same job,” he explained. His skin looked like fire in the low yellow light of the Crooked Swiggen. “However, we don’t have sentient plants.”

  “That’s where the big difference is,” I explained. “I can do all the other stuff you mentioned. I used to have a wonderful garden before those crystal bug bastards arrived. I was the top botanist at my lab, too.”

  “Top botanist?” Rokul laughed. “What an honor.”

  I reached across the table to shove his shoulder. The moment I touched his skin, I felt a strange flip in my stomach.

  Rokul’s shoulder was all muscle. And the skin was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Before I gave into the urge to stroke his arm, I pulled away quickly.

  “It was an honor,” I said defensively. “A large part of botany is fieldwork. A large part of fieldwork here is plants that want to rip you apart.”

  “Hence the weapons,” he nodded. “I noticed you’re fond of your knife.”

  “Family heirloom,” I grinned. “And it’s satisfying to slash things with.”

  “You’re more soldier than scientist.” Rokul folded his muscular arms across his equally muscular chest.

  I didn’t know what his vest was made of, but it left nothing to the imagination. I averted my gaze before he caught me starting. I didn’t need his head getting any bigger.

  “I guess I am,” I nodded looking into the shallow depth of my drink. I couldn’t believe I’d already gone through another drink and I still didn’t feel any different. Screw the wrath of Swiggen, I wanted a real drink.

  “Swiggy!” I called. The barkeeper looked up but didn’t realize it was him that I was speaking to until I waved my hand. He sucked in a breath, threw a dingy towel over his shoulder, and approached the table.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Can I ask to change the water-to-spirit percentage in my drinks?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?” His brows shot up.

  “I’m not a lightweight or anything. But if I can have six of these and feel nothing, either I have a serious problem or you’re watering down my drinks,” I said.

  Rokul looked taken aback. So did Swiggen.

  “I have to make stock last or I go under,” Swiggen muttered. I’d suspected that might be the case but I hadn’t thought he’d actually admit it.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I leaned in like I was going to tell him a secret. “Give us a bottle. It can be your lowest-quality bottle. It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s pure. I’ll pay the price of a full top-quality bottle.”

  “Deal.” Swiggen grinned and returned to his place behind the bar.

  “You really like to drink, don’t you?” Rokul chuckled.

  “Technically, we haven’t started drinking yet,” I reminded him. “Right now, we’re more well-hydrated than anything.”

  “There are worse things to be,” Rokul grinned. “Though I’d also like a real drink.”

  “That’s the spirit,” I grinned. At the same moment, Swiggen came back and placed a dark brown bottle half filled with liquid on the table.

  “No, that’s the spirit,” Rokul pointed at the bottle. I tipped my head back and laughed, aware that it was the loudest sound in the room.

  “That was stupid,” I giggled.

  “Yet you laughed,” Rokul pointed out. He poured us each half a glass of clear liquid that smelled so strongly it made my nose wrinkle.

  “Maybe I like stupid things,” I shrugged and took a small sip. I winced as the spirits slid down my throat. “I know why this is the lowest quality,” I shuddered.

  Rokul took a sip for himself but didn’t react.

  “It tastes fine,” he said.

  “Clearly my taste buds are different than your Skotan taste buds.” I held my breath as I took another sip. Already, I started to feel the warm feeling I wanted. A little more and I wouldn’t be able to think straight and I wouldn’t be able to think about…them.

  I shook my head violently as if I could shake away the bad memories.

  “Are you well?” Rokul asked.

  “Yes,” I said too brightly. I forced myself to take a longer sip this time, even though it burned going down. “Just trying to shake the horrible taste out of my mouth.”

  “Maybe you should’ve stuck to the watered-down drinks,” Rokul said in a condescending tone that made me want to pour his drink over his head.

  “No way in hell.” Against my better judgment, I drained the rest of my drink and poured myself another, which was no easy task. I now saw two cups where there had only been one.

  “Bring it on,” Rokul challenged. He downed his own cup.

  “Is it a competition now?” I arched my brow and smirked.

  “Isn’t it always?” he asked.

  “You mean drinking or just life in general?” I replied.

  “Both.” He poured himself another drink. “Tell me about your scars.”

  “Excuse me?” I sputtered.

  “That one on your shoulder. I have one that looks just like it. What’s it from?” He pointed to a scar that had an odd curved shape. He brought his finger over and ran it over my scar.

  I shuddered in pleasure. His touch set off sparks that spiraled through me, straight to my core. “Nasty encounter with a lone Luurizi,” I replied, voice carefully neutral. “He didn’t get me with the spikes on his hoofs, but I didn’t escape the corkscrew horn.”

  “That’s how I got mine!” he grinned. “It was a few days after we crash landed and I thought the Luurizi would make for some good meals.”

  While he took a sip of his drink, I surveyed his arms. I didn’t want to ask about the nastiest of the scars. Usually, scars like that came with sad stories.

  I didn’t want to hear any sad stories tonight. Then I saw another interesting scar. It was almost a perfect half circle, with uniform ridges.

  “What happened there?” I asked pointing to the inside of his right forearm before tracing it with my finger.

  Nope, that wasn’t the alcohol making me do that. It was pure, simple, good ol’ fashioned desire.

  The kind I planned to stuff to the side, really quickly.

  Even if he was handsome. And honest. And made me laugh.

  “I got that from a Xezleq,” he said.

  “I can’t even pronounce what you just said,” I snorted.

  “Humans can’t,” he replied. “It’s like one of those vines, but with way more legs. And also a dorsal spine. And eyes all over its body.”

  “So, nothing like a vine, at all,” I laughed.

  “I guess not,” Rokul chuckled.

  By the time we finished the bottle, Swiggen was practically pushing us out of his bar.

  “See you tomorrow, Swiggen!” I called. He didn’t answer me. No fun at all.

  “Where’s the guesthouse?” Rokul asked.

  “It’s the building that’s not the Crooked Swiggen or the supply shop. You could’ve figured that one out. There’s not that many buildings here,” I said.

  “Count them,” Rokul challenged.

  I scoffed as I tried to focus on the buildings, but as soon as I did, they blurred together and the world wouldn’t stay straight.

  “Too hard. Next question,” I giggled.

  “Come on.” Rokul laughed and tugged me along. Unfortunately, the unpaved ro
ads and my drunken state did not mix. My foot caught on a divot and I fell face first into the dirt. It might’ve hurt, but I couldn’t tell, I was laughing too hard.

  “Graceful,” Rokul leaned over me and laughed. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

  Apparently, he was drunker than he’d let on, because he lost his balance and fell to the ground beside me.

  “Graceful,” I smirked. I rolled over to face him but somehow, I ended up half on top of him. His hand was on my lower back. We were laughing together, making half-assed attempts to get back on our feet. I wasn’t sure if he pulled me or if I moved myself, but now I was fully on top of him.

  “You’re making it worse,” I giggled.

  “Am I?”

  Suddenly his eyes were the only thing in focus. I’d never seen such intense eyes.

  Somehow this felt right. I could stay like this forever.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned down and kissed him. His hand found its way to the base of my neck. He held me to him while he kissed me deeper, teasing, tasting. Our tongues danced together as my chest pressed against his.

  I shifted so my legs were on either side of him. As I lost myself in his kiss, my hips began to rock and sway. A soft groan escaped his lips between kisses. His hands travelled to my hips, grinding me into him. Beneath me, I felt him grow hard. Desire shot through my body, igniting me all the way to my core. I reached beneath me and pressed my palm into the base of his length. He groaned again.

  Somewhere behind us, a door slammed. The spell broke.

  We were in the middle of a dirt road, drunk and groping each other.

  This wasn’t right.

  “We should get to the guesthouse,” I said quickly, rolling to the side.

  “Yes,” Rokul helped me to my feet. “Apparently, you have a big day ahead of you.”

  Rokul

  I woke up on the floor.

  I did not fall asleep on the floor, so my confusion was understandable.

  In the cot next to me, Tella had managed to stay in her bed through the night. Her hair was a tangled mess that covered her face, but she looked more comfortable than I felt.

  Beyond her, the other two cots in the one-room guesthouse were unoccupied, but had clearly been slept in.