Chapter 11
Han
In a universe that didn’t allow for many mistakes, Han had learned to be cool and calculated in even the most dangerous situations.
Hearing Zeph and Sandar talk about breaking Talin law for love and her child was sending her blood pressure through the roof.
Even with all that emotion roiling around in her gut, she didn’t make the offer to Sandar lightly.
It seemed that on this hunt, not only was she adopting her target but a portion of his family also!
It wasn’t a good sign that both Zeph and Sandar silently stared at her. She wished Talins had facial expressions because they were freaking her out a little. Had she insulted Sandar or had she talked too quickly for their INTs to keep up?
Feeling uncomfortable, she stood up and shoved her hands in her pockets. “But you don’t have to come with me. You guys probably have all kinds of better plans.”
A rumble of amusement from Sandar broke the silence. “I thought I was going to protect you, but it seems you’re determined to protect me.”
The tension in her shoulders eased with Sandar’s humorous words. “That was sweet of you earlier. Even though you had the baby to think of, you rushed to defend me.”
Sandar looked down at her stomach. “It’s strange. I thought the feelings I had for Rensom were intense, but they’re nothing compared to what I feel for this child, and they aren’t even born yet.”
Han had heard similar statements from her younger sister when she was pregnant. “I’ve been told parenthood is the best and worst thing you’ll ever experience.”
Sandar sounded a questioning rumble. “Did you learn that from your dam? There’s nothing about childrearing outside a cresh on any of the UniBases. I have no one to ask questions to.”
Han held up both hands, as if fending off Sandar’s questions. “I’m not the one to ask. My mom, aunts, sisters, and friends with kids can give you tons of advice. I’m not sure all of it will work with a Talin baby, though.”
“Your mother must have known what she was doing because you turned out kind, generous, and resilient.”
Han grinned, thinking about the reason she’d ended up here in the first place. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Immigration into the Ilgorian Federation isn’t that simple,” Zeph said, pulling Han’s attention back to him. He was watching her intensely, and the moment she took a half step toward him, he opened his arms. It was obvious to her that he needed comfort.
She went back and let him pull her into his lap.
“You’re wrong. Immigration into the federation is easy if you marry or are adopted into a family,” Tumoro commented as he carried over three stone, handleless mugs.
Han accepted a steaming mug, pleased to note the liquid inside was a dark shade of brown instead of black. Zeph didn’t take a mug, but Sandar took one then invited Tumoro to sit next to her.
He plopped down and took a sip. “Ah, this is nice.”
“I’m an adult Talin, how can I be adopted?” Sandar asked.
Tumoro waggled his ears in confusion. “What does being an adult have to do with anything?”
“What Tumoro is trying to say is that Ugarian families adopt adults all the time. Their families are large and complicated, but the important thing to understand is that because my family lives on an Ugarian planet within the federation, we are all considered Federation Citizens. I can adopt anyone I want as long as I fill out all the forms and pay the fees. You’ll be my sister and your husband will be my brother. It’s easy.”
“It can’t be that simple,” Zeph argued. He’d wrapped his arms around her and was resting his cheek on the top of her head.
“It really is,” Han said. “We don’t have enough people on Inneeko, so they’d welcome as many as I could bring back. We might even get a housing bonus, and we can claim some new land and build a bigger compound. Mom would love that!”
“How are you this competent?” Sandar asked with a surprised rattle.
Han frowned. “I’m going to assume you didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
Zeph sounded a rumble of amusement. “The literature we have about humans makes all of you sound sweet but helpless. My sister is impressed with you.”
“Literature?” Han asked, her annoyance giving way to curiosity. “Humans are so rare I’m stopped regularly by travelers and asked what I am. How do you guys have literature about us?”
“Because humans have become a favorite pet among Talins,” Sandar said.
Gilmo’s warning came back to her. “You mean slaves,” she said grimly.
“No, pets!” Sandar objected. “You’re prized and adored. The Committee of Pet Welfare was created to make sure none of you were abused. They’re the ones who’ve put together the information packets on the proper care and treatment of humans.”
Han shook her head. “We’re sentient, sapient beings.”
Sandar didn’t have an answer to that. She looked over Han’s head at Zeph, but he wasn’t any help.
“I never considered Han a pet.”
“That’s true,” she said, giving one of his hands a pat. “You kept trying to send me home for my own safety. It was sweet.”
“You have to understand that when the advance squad brought the first humans back to the empire after the Orlok War, they were so affectionate and happy that we were all entranced,” Sandar said.
“The humans were wonderfully open and loving with each other. One of the young ones even made friends with a bot.”
Han barked out a laugh thinking about the stuffed animals she’d been very attached to while growing up. “Okay, I’ll admit that we can get attached to things that aren’t even sentient. But still, we can’t possibly make good pets!”
“But you do!” Sandar said. She unclipped an Ident from her belt and tapped at it until a holo started playing. It was of a group of humans playing some kind of game with a ball. They all looked so healthy and happy that it took Han a moment to notice the collars they were all wearing.
She swung her head around to look up at Zeph. “I’m never wearing a collar!”
He purred. “I would never ask you to.”
She relaxed a little, realizing she was being ridiculous. Zeph wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. He was perfect in that way.
“Right, good boy,” she said, awkwardly patting him on his head. Amused rumbles came from both Talins and a snort-laugh came from Tumoro.
The front door opened and a reddish-orange Talin walked in, small cages stacked high in his arms. A wave of hot, humid air followed him along with the sounds of the jungle. All of it stopped when the door slid shut.
This had to be Sandar’s husband, Rensom.
“Sandar, our traps finally caught one of the timale lizards!” he said walking across the domicile. “It’s surprisingly docile, but I still think I should do the assessment. We can’t risk—”
He was almost to them when he looked around the stacked cages and stopped short. He sounded a startled rattle. “In the name of the ancestors, what’s going on here?”
Zephrum
It was late by the time they finished explaining everything to a very startled and confused Rensom. Tumoro was quick to suggest he fix everyone some food.
“We don’t have much,” Sandar warned him. She looked at Zeph. “That’s why I asked you to send the supplies.”
“They’re coming,” he said, feeling defensive. “A leaper will be dropping them off tomorrow.”
“I never doubted you’d send them, I just didn’t think you’d travel with them,” Sandar said. “Especially after I got the report about what you did a few rotations ago.”
It was hard, but Zeph maintained eye contact with his sister. It helped to have Han in his arms. “I acted as I saw fit. It might’ve been against orders, but it wasn’t against my conscience."
“I understand,” Sandar said. “I could read the subtext to the list of crimes. That’s why I didn’t recognize you at first. We don’t see what we don’t expect to see.”
Zeph forced a rumble of amusement out of his chest. “Are you sure it’s not because I dyed my plates?”
“I barely looked at you after I saw the human,” Sandar said. “Otherwise I would’ve recognized you sooner. You’re forever my little Zephrum.”
Memories of their time together at the cresh swamped Zeph, making it hard to speak. Tumoro and Han filled the silence for him.
“I’ll make something great from what you have,” Tumoro said, jumping up from the chair he’d switched to so Rensom could sit next to his wife.
“I’ll help,” Han said, shifting in his lap. Reluctantly, he let her go. The two of them chatted cheerfully as they went through the food packs they’d brought with them.
Sandar leaned forward in her seat and spoke in a low tone. “You’ve scent-bonded with the human.”
It wasn’t a question, but Zeph sounded a rumble of agreement anyway.
Sandar wasn’t done. “Does she know?”
Guilt and fear swept through Zeph. “No.”
“Oh, Zephrum, how could you? You’ve trapped that human without consent.”
“I’m willing to die if she wants to leave me,” he growled, hating the way Sandar was making him feel. “I’d never make her stay with me.”
“Her sense of obligation would trap her, not your strength,” Sandar argued. “I’ve only known her a few marks, and I’m very aware of her strong sense of duty. If she were Talin, she’d make her family and clan proud.”
“And I’m nothing but a treasonous, worthless, coward,” Zeph mumbled. Maybe he should take his own life before he burdened Han with what he’d done.
“No, Zephrum,” Sandar said, reaching out to touch his knee. “You’re a good male. I’m proud to call you my brother. Any female should be proud to call you a mate and be ecstatic at the idea of a marriage contract with you. But she needs to know.”
Despite Sandar’s kind words, he’d never felt so despondent. “I’ll tell her tonight,” he whispered.