Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
My diversion is the big human who is always right here
Shohari
IT WAS good to be back on the Dorimisa knowing we were leaving in a few minutes, the sense of unease I’d had since we got to Draim draining away with every step over her familiar walkways. Sure, I could have done without nine small sapients stinking up my ship, but I had to think of the credits.
Had to. Not the interesting human who looked like he wouldn’t break if I sat on him.
I shook my head. He was small. They were all small, so he was small too. Even if he was the same size as me. As far as I was concerned, that was small for a male. And soft. And they were only here for a few days while I coasted around the semi-local area like some kind of transport ship.
“Down the corridor. The cargo bay is at the end,” I said, following them into the cavernous space.
They stopped short. “There’s nothing here,” one of the females said, her hands on her hips. “We can’t just rattle around here for however many days. Where will we sleep?”
“Hush,” said another, jostling her with an elbow. “We have a lift. That’s what we need.”
“Yeah, but we’re people, not cargo.”
I slammed my foot against the floor. “You’re cargo.” My voice echoed around the space, making it deeper and more harsh. “That’s why you’re in the cargo bay. Strap yourselves in because this can be a bumpy ride.”
“We can’t—”
The big one placed a light brown hand on the female’s shoulder, quieting her, and stepped forward. “Captain, I get that we’re just what you’re transporting today. And we appreciate that, and—”
“Good. Hold tight for launch.”
The cool metal under my feet was a balm as I stomped back to the bridge. Home. I could have my own mug. My own chair. My own bed.
Damn. Could those sapients sleep on a cargo bay floor?
I yanked my headspines so hard my nostrils prickled and turned on my heel.
“Captain Shohari.” Rapid footfalls accompanied the masculine shout.
Even though I pulled up sharply, the big human nearly ran into me. He took a few steps backwards, panting. “Captain, I’m sorry to bother you, and we don’t want to make a fuss, but”—he gritted his teeth—“are we expected to stay in the cargo bay the whole time? Sleep in there?”
Skyk.
When I circled a finger and tried to shoo him back the way he’d come, he planted his feet as firmly as he jutted his chin. My headspines surged, and I let them shift and quake as I gave him an open-mouthed grin. How far would he dare push me?
He pressed his lips together, and the dark hair lines on his brows arched upwards. Rather than merely walking back, he beckoned me with an imperious hand, brown eyes trained on me as though ensuring I followed.
I did. Dearest gods, his arse.
The infuriating male caught me looking. Of course. And I swore he put a keen little arch in his back as he paced the rest of the way to the cargo bay.
Well, if he wanted me to look…
The other humans crowded round the bay door, and the big one stopped just outside.
“Thanks for coming back.” The lump in his throat bobbed.
“Look, humans probably injure more easily than kri’ith do.
” His tongue tripped over the alien word, but he didn’t flatten it the way lots of sapients did; he tried, and my jaw softened.
“And we require a certain amount of sleep to function, and certain conditions to be able to sleep. Do you have anything soft, like blankets or cushions maybe?”
Kri’s shiny arse, did he think we didn’t sleep in beds?
His little speech seemed to have given the others confidence. “And what about a convi?”
“And water?”
Soft creatures. So small and lost and sad.
I stroked my ear ridge idly. This was why I always picked up new cargo at any drop-off destination; if I didn’t have the space for live cargo, I couldn’t be tempted to carry them.
Just typical the rare occasion I had an empty bay, I also found some odd creatures who needed a ride.
Not creatures. Sapients. Strange, soft sapients.
It wasn’t as though I had any spare quarters. Well, apart from one. A four-berth LX73D freighter was made for maximising profits, not comfort, but two or three of them could cram into the spare berth.
I rubbed my forehead. Skykking talking cargo.
“Cargo covers in that locker,” I said, pointing over to the side. The giant padded cloths we used for fragile shipments would afford at least some level of comfort, though I couldn’t attest to their cleanliness. Not that I should care.
“You.” I pointed at the big male. “I have some other things elsewhere. You can carry them.”
“No problem.” The human shrugged and followed me out of the bay, trailing me like a baby doorith as I stomped off to the bridge. He sauntered past the small jump seat by the doorway, and I grabbed his arm. The strange heat of it made me want to let go and hold on both.
When he moved his brow hairs in the way I assumed meant surprise, I gestured to the seat. “Sit down. Hold on.” We were getting away from this infernal station before I did anything else.
I sat straight-backed in the captain’s chair and ignored Paiata’s pointed look at the human. “Get us out of here.”
“Aye, Captain.”
He opened the in-ship comm. “All bodies, hold tight for launch.”
I closed my eyes and let the rushing sound of the engines thrum through my body, gripping the curved armrests as my ship lurched towards voidspace.
When the telltale roll of the engines settled into a steady whir, I stood up, gesturing to the human, whose full lips had flattened, his face seeming a lighter shade of bronze.
“You get used to it,” I offered. “This way, cargo.”
“My name’s Garrison.”
“Hmh.” I opened a storage hatch in the corridor wall, and indicated the stacks of inflatable bolsters and spare bedding. “You can take these, Garrison.” Gesturing down the corridor, I added, “You can all use that convi. I’ll show you the galley later.”
The big human was already pulling the items down, stacking them in his substantial arms, and he flashed me a grin. “Thanks, Shohari, these will help. We appreciate it.”
My spines shivered, my voice gruff as I corrected him. “You’ll call me Captain when we’re on this ship.”
His smile grew wider, showing off his blunt, white teeth. “Yes ma’am, Captain.”
A shiver ran through my spines, and I stomped back to the bridge, where Paiata was already making minor course adjustments on the main holoscreen. “Everything stable on our course?”
“Aye, Cap, just making some efficiency deviations.”
I swear he couldn’t just set a course and leave it alone. “When you’re done tinkering, you should tell the humans where we’re headed first.”
“Are you going soft, Cap? Normally I have to suggest this kind of thing,” he said with a wry smile.
“Don’t be absurd.”
“As you wish.” He grinned, jutting his tusks at me.
“All bodies, destination AnimaCorp research station in half a day. Next stop, Lietan Shipyard tomorrow morning. Aurora Five Station the following night, with a stopover. And the delightful planet Vadias two days after. Thank you for flying with the Dorimisa and we hope you enjoy your stay.” He clicked off the comm system with a flourish.
“Are you finished?”
“We’ve got guests, Cap. It’s more exciting than fabric or furniture.”
“We’re a trading ship, not a pleasure cruise.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at that big one.” He stuck out his tongue, coiling it into loops, then retracted it with a slurp. “Why not both?”
I swore I didn’t know what he meant as I cuffed him round the head and left the bridge, his laughter echoing in my ears.
This early in a flight, I was normally still on the bridge, double checking the plans for current or destination cargo, or trying to broker the next shipment. Or seeing if there was a parallel shipment I could squeeze in quietly because the faster I could build up my personal credits, the better.
“Kheh,” I muttered. This was me checking the current cargo. I needed to make sure the big one hadn’t made a mess of my ship or gotten lost. And I should check the other humans weren’t somehow dying or injured; it didn’t do to play favourites.
Turned out he was neither lost nor making a mess. He raised his head as I approached, giving me that smile again, and I faltered.
I wasn’t smile-worthy. I was the grumpy daughter of an arsehole family, with fewer choices than Aurora Five’s cantina menu.
And I could only imagine I looked horrific to him.
I was all spikes and ridges and hardness and angles.
The female humans were small and soft, their bodies swaying like nebaru dancing girls in seedy cantinas.
I never allowed myself to have too many casual liaisons—what was the point when I was likely to be mated off once I inevitably failed to satisfy my family with my ability as a trader? But I was no stranger to finding mutual pleasure with someone, and he did have a pleasant smile.
Regardless, there was no harm in enjoying the view. He’d be gone in a few days.
I rubbed my chest, easing a sudden twinge.
As I held up my comm, telling the computer to add vegetables to our stores at the next stopover, my gaze fell past my wrist, and I let myself take him in.
About as tall as me. Almost as broad as me, seemingly impressive for a human.
The rest of them were puny and very, very breakable.
Garrison wasn’t. In a strange way, he was built like us, substantial without being showy.
Instead of headspines, his short, dark brown mane looked soft to the touch.
And his firm, round buttocks made me want to grab them and slap them.
The sleeves on his strange tunic were short, stretching around decent-sized muscles, wrapped in skin that had to be much softer than a kri’ith’s.
It was all one colour, a warm light brown echoing the amber tones of my torso.
Strange symbols and images were inked on his skin, and I almost wanted to ask him what they were and what they meant.