Chapter 6
Nova
A lifetime of doing tumbling and high-flying acts meant that Nova was familiar with discomfort.
All performers ended up working while hurt, it was inevitable.
Riff was good about having the ship’s medical team visit them when severely sick or injured, but little bumps and bruises were expected to be ignored.
Normally she was good at ignoring pain, but she’d never experienced this level of eye irritation. It wasn’t only that it hurt, but that she couldn’t keep her eyes open to see anything. It was scary and made her want to start crying for real.
Surprisingly, Miran’s calm voice helped keep her panic at bay.
He kept petting her back and speaking in both Hissa and Space Standard. When he spoke in Hissa, it sounded rhythmic and musical. When he spoke in Space Standard, he told her all the ways he was going to make her feel better and promised that she’d never have to deal with Fielden sand again.
It all sounded good to her!
She was fighting the urge to rub her eyes when he paused and moved the hand from her back. She heard the familiar sound of a lock pad beeping.
“We’re here,” he said at the same time she heard a click and then a door swish open. The temperature changed a little, the room was set to a higher ambient temperature. It felt good and made her realize that the pain was making her sweat but that she was also cold and shivering.
Sometimes her body made no sense to her.
He leaned over, and she expected to be dumped on the floor or a chair, but instead, she ended up sinking into a soft bed.
Her bag swung free of her shoulder and tugged her arm down.
She tried to pull free, but the strap got tangled in her loose Fielden clothes.
She tried to open her eyes far enough to see, but the stinging made it impossible.
The constant tears also plugged up her nose and irritated her face.
This was horrible!
A gentle hand pulled her arm out straight. “Easy, let me help.”
She felt him tugging at her clothing and the bag. Soon the pressure from where the strap had been digging into her shoulder was gone, and her clothing was loose and flowing against instead of uncomfortably tight around her upper arm.
She let out a little sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
“Stay here. I’m going to get something for your eyes,” he said, then she felt the air shift as he left.
She heard water and sloshing. She blinked furiously, but all that did was make her eyes hurt more. Was there sand in her eyes or tiny swords?
This was worse than when she’d fallen face first into Mikner’s “lava” pit while standing in for his partner. The chemicals making up the fake lava had given her the equivalent of a sunburn all over her body, but a quick gel treatment from the medic had her all fixed up.
She could only hope that whatever Miran planned was that effective.
“I need you to bend at the waist,” he said. She’d been so distracted by her misery that she hadn’t realized he was back until he spoke.
One of his hands pressed on her back, guiding her to sit up and lean over, putting her face over her lap.
“Hold your hair back,” he instructed. She gathered her hair with one hand. The tie that had been holding it back was lost in the sands somewhere.
Warm water covered her face, and a gentle hand swept the sand off from around her eyes. He must’ve filled a bowl with water from the cleansing room. The bowl was lowered away from her face. She made a little whimpering sound.
“They still hurt,” she said, scared to blink.
“Let me get some clean water. This bowl is half sand now,” he said, and she heard movement. Soon he was back and pressing another bowl up to her face. This time, she blinked open her eyes the moment they were underwater. The relief was instantaneous.
Sitting up, she breathed out a sigh and looked around. Her vision was hazy, and her eyes still hurt, but better than before.
“One more time,” he urged, still holding the bowl with both hands.
She dipped her face into the bowl again, this time for a little longer than comfortable. When she finally lifted her head up, she sucked in a much-needed breath of air.
“I was worried you were going to drown yourself,” he teased, setting the bowl down and pulling a towel off his shoulder. She let go of her hair and tried to take the towel, but he ignored her hand and began patting her face dry.
When that was done, he tossed the towel over his shoulder and ran his hands over her arms and legs. His touch was too gentle and tickled her in several places.
“Hey, stop that,” she said, stifling a giggle.
“I’m checking for other injuries,” he said, tugging the Fielden clothing off. She was still wearing the tight wild-human costume under the loose garb, but she still wasn’t happy with his actions.
The problem wasn’t being naked. She wasn’t shy. There was little privacy in the circus, and it was common for acts to change clothes backstage in front of everyone. She spent her entire life sharing a room with Nikla, the youngest of Melee’s cubs.
She didn’t like that he was stripping her down without asking. Especially after the intimacy they’d shared on the shuttle. That had been heat and warmth, this felt cold and forced.
She slapped at his hand when he reached for her shoulder. “No.”
He drew back with an impatient sound. “I wasn’t going to take off any more clothing. I was trying to see if you were bruised or if it was dirt on your shoulder.”
“How would I know that was your intention?” she snapped.
She expected harsh words in response, but instead he took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You’re injured, and I’m acting as if I own you.”
She didn’t point out that he did own her or at least owned a share of her. He was apologizing, and she knew when to keep quiet.
Sometimes.
He continued. “I shouldn’t have taken the robe off without asking first. I let my concern override my good sense.”
Standing up, he walked away. He became a fuzzy mass to her degraded eyesight, but she could hear him opening a cabinet. When he returned, he tucked a blanket around her shoulders.
“I was concerned that I caused you more injuries by carrying you from the ship. It made me act before thinking.”
She could understand that. Worry or fear could make someone act inappropriately. Melee had only been harsh a few times, and they all were because she was scared Nova or one of the cubs was seriously injured.
“You didn’t hurt my eyes, the sand did that. Stupid sand. The Fielden poetry all lied. It’s not pretty at all!”
“Hissa doesn’t have sand,” he offered. “You’ll never have to deal with sand ever again when you get there.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure Hissa is perfect in every way.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that. Things can get pretty muddy during the rainy season.
And if you don’t keep cutting the jungle back, it will overgrow a house in only a few days.
We have special droids for shearing vines, but they aren’t always foolproof.
When I was a child, one of the droids broke down, and we didn’t realize it until a back door ended up impeded by growth.
It took us an entire day and three borrowed droids to cut back all the vines.
My sisters fought over who got to fix the droid because they both wanted to be repair engineers, but there was only space for one of them to attend classes.
In the end, Mom told them to fix it together. They spent half the time laughing.”
The way his voice softened as he told her about the memory made her want to hear more. Love shone through every word.
“Did both your sisters become repair engineers?” she asked.
His entire demeanor changed. The smile disappeared, and his body stiffened. When he responded, his voice was flat and emotionless. “They’re both gone.”
She’d never lost anyone close to her. Couldn't imagine the pain of losing two siblings! Miran must’ve been devastated.
Impulsively, she grabbed him in a hug. He was kneeling on the floor in front of her, so all she had to do was lean forward and wrap her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, Miran. I bet you were the best brother while they were alive,” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything, but he lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. The silence in the room felt strangely comforting, as if he needed a moment to remember them with someone who didn’t know the whole story.
Or maybe she was making up scenarios in her head. She was good at storytelling, and it got away from her sometimes.
The door chime sounded, making both of them jump a little.
“That’s either the medical supplies, medic, or the food,” he said, straightening away from her. She let her arms fall away from him, almost immediately missing the warmth of his body near hers.
He crossed the room and ordered the door open. He had a short conversation with the person in the hall before stepping aside to let them in.
Her vision was only getting worse, and she couldn’t make out much about the Fielden who came into the room. They were a long gray blob with a large brown blob attached to their back. The brown blob had to be one of the large boxes Fielden wore like backpacks.
It reminded her that Fielden didn’t use droids or other smaller tech because it was easily destroyed by the sand. When she’d heard that she’d scoffed, but now she understood.
“I’m Dranker, the medic on call.” The waver in the Fielden’s voice told Nova that it was a she. “The request ticket said a human was injured?”
“That’s me,” Nova said, waving her hand. “I’m Nova.”
“I’ve never met a human before,” Dranker said, stepping into the room. “But I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask,” she agreed. “That and don’t kill me, okay?”
“No, never!” Dranker said with a little sound of distress.
Nova felt bad. She’d forgotten that Fielden didn’t do humor like that. “I’m sorry. I was trying to be amusing.”