Chapter 7
Vytln
“Vytln, please, I just need your biosignature. I promise, it will be quick.”
He growled, annoyed. Grace’s chirpy little voice was chasing after him again.
“I thought I finished all my datawork,” he said, giving her an accusatory look over his shoulder before turning back to his task. He bent over and picked up another large, heavy bag of the nutrition powder that needed to go into the food synthesizer.
“That was to establish your identity. This is for work.”
He turned, bag over his shoulder, to find the black haired little thing standing right in his path, signature capsule in hand.
He grumbled. “What kind of delivery needs my biosignature?”
“A very well paying one.” She wiggled the capsule and, when he didn't immediately put out his hand, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “We’re providing relief aid to Sinval.”
“What is Sinval?” Vytln asked. Not because he actually cared, just so he could be more accurate when it came to being mad at this stupidity.
“It’s a Coalition world,” she said like he should know that.
But there were hundreds of those. Was he supposed to just memorize all of them? He didn’t say as much, but he was sure the expression on his face did because she continued.
“Sinval is a world that was ravaged by a wild solar flare. It practically destroyed the entire planet. Surely you heard about it?”
“When was this?” He asked, unimpressed.
“I don’t know. Maybe ten or so years ago?”
“Then, I wouldn’t have heard. I was on Rik-Vane then.”
“Do you guys not get news on Rik-Vane?”
“We don’t really care. Not our problem.”
“Right,” she mumbled. Not like she was really agreeing with him, more like she was expressing her understanding.
“Well, I guess ten years or so ago there was this big solar flare that burned the planet up completely. Almost destroyed it outright. Decimated the population – people and animals and plants. Everything. It’s recovering, but very slowly, and they rely heavily on supplies and assistance from the Coalition for their survival.
But it’s hard to find companies willing to make that trip because there’s so much debris from a planet that was destroyed and left a trail of destruction in orbit around the sun as well as the threat of more flares.
And the people are pretty desperate, so it’s not uncommon, especially in the beginning, for the supply ships to be attacked and stolen. ”
Vytln cocked his head, curious now. That sounded exactly like the sort of delivery that they would be happy to do. They weren’t afraid of attacks, the possible idea of flares that likely wouldn’t happen, or space debris. “Why haven’t we done it before?”
“Because the Coalition is very strict about who is allowed near the planet. The last thing they want is for these desperate people to be taken advantage of. All the delivery ships are heavily vetted to make sure they’re not related to criminal activity.”
He made a soft sound of understanding. They had their fake identities, and they could withstand most scrutiny, but they weren’t perfect, and they could be seen past with enough searching or power. Like those of the Coalition army determined to protect a defenseless planet.
“But your old identities are officially dead,” she smiled, reminding him of the last time she had come after him for his biosignature.
“And your new identities are practically real. They are real, for all intents and purposes. And the reason I was able to convince the good Captain Ikvar that you guys deserved to have them was for exactly this reason. They need crazy people willing to make these deliveries, and we need the credz. Win-win.”
He was annoyed by how right she was. And how well planned her actions were. He wished he could dislike this chirpy little thing, but the fact that she had done so well to secure this job, among others, meant he couldn’t stay mad.
She was still irritating though.
With a grunt, he held out his finger and let her prick him for the sample she needed. The vial glowed purple and she gave him a bright smile.
“Thank you, again, for your infinite patience, Vytln.”
“I am capable of recognizing sarcasm, female,” he grumbled.
Grace just laughed, turning on her heel and flouncing away. Loud, annoying, chittery thing. How was it that she was the same species as the beautiful pest in his trap?
That regular, not-beautiful, not-enticing pest, he meant.
Grunting, he hefted the bag of nutrition powder higher up on his shoulder and continued on his way.
The galley of the Humility was pretty small.
Especially with the new synthesizer in it, taking up a lot more room than their old one.
He dropped the bag on the floor and went to the machine in question, opening the chute that led into the storage tank.
As he was getting the bag in place so he could pour the powder inside, a yellow figure popped into place beside him.
He didn’t flinch at the sudden appearance of Alred. Their AI might not have a physical body, instead claiming the entire Humility as his body, but he created a light figure for them to look at and interact with.
However, he did start in surprise. Unprepared for just how different the figure was.
Alred’s figure used to be as plain and simple as possible. A head on a torso with two arms and two legs. It had no hair, no tail, no feathers, no fur, no clothes, no cock, not even a face. Just a basic thing for them to look at while he talked.
He did recently forge a face for himself. Which Vytln thought was a waste of processing power, but he figured it was probably because of their new female crewmates. They seemed to respond favorably to it, and it didn’t really make much difference overall.
But the yellow light figure before him now was an actual person.
He didn’t recognize the species, but it clearly was one.
He had a long tail, thick with fur, similar to the long mane of hair on his head that came to a sharp peak on his forehead.
He also had four eyes, two on the front of his face, and two slightly back, closer to the temples.
His face was more squared than it used to be, his body bigger and broader.
Thick claws tipped his yellow, see-through hands, while a smile graced his face, showing off his fangs.
He posed. There was no other word for it. Still no clothes, still no cock, though he had fur on the back of his calves and arms. He stood with his head tilted back, one hand on his hip, tail flicking. He was still yellow, only yellow, but he had a real body.
The two of them stared at each other for a moment before Vytln grunted. “You’re ugly.”
Alred chuckled, pushing back his hair. “Goldie thinks I’m handsome.”
“She’s wrong.” Turning back to the synthesizer, he began pouring the powder inside. “Is that what your ugly mug used to look like back when you were alive?”
“Close enough,” Alred said, looking at his own hand. “It’s the best reconstruction I can make based on the fragments of memories I still have of my time as a biological person.”
Vytln grunted again. Unsure what purpose he could possibly have for trying to recreate his body, but he bet it had something to do with the females.
“Our prisoner,” Alred started when Vytln didn’t remark further on his sudden transformation. “You took her out of your trap yesterday, didn’t you?”
“I did. She helped me repair some things.” Vytln stayed focused on his task.
Trying not to think about her or how soft she felt in his arms. Or how pretty she had been when that spark of excitement lit up her eyes while she pulled tools out of her belt.
A belt he really should have confiscated from her – she was a prisoner, after all. But he didn’t.
“I couldn’t see her,” Alred said, oblivious to Vytln’s insanity, his voice grave. “I know you were holding her. I saw you holding something. I even heard you talking. But I couldn’t see or hear her. It’s like… it’s like she wasn’t even there.”
“You could see nothing in my arms?” Vytln asked, looking past the half empty bag at him.
“No,” Alred shook his virtual head. “I saw you; I saw part of your arm. But the parts between were just… not there. Not blurry. It wasn’t a black spot.
It was like it didn’t exist. Like space had folded on itself and your arm and chest were just touching each other.
And when I guess she was talking, I couldn’t hear anything but the normal background noise of the ship. ”
Vytln grunted, though more interested this time. What was she doing? How was she able to hide from Alred like that? Although, now that he was thinking about it…
“Has Trove been able to scent her?” He asked, shaking the now empty bag to get the last of the powder out into the machine.
Again, Alred shook his head. “No one has. Trove and the twins can’t scent her. Sway can’t hear her. I can’t see her. It’s like she’s hiding from our best senses.”
Vytln folded the now empty bag, even more impressed now. “She’s good. She’s very good. I don’t understand why she’s here. What her purpose is. She’s strange.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Alred said, the dull tone of his voice leaving no doubt to his resentment at not being able to detect the female.
Vytln grumbled. “You’re lucky. She’s an obnoxious pest.”
“Mm.”
“All she does is poke her hand out of the trap and natter at me.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I have to take care of this little thing, and she doesn’t even seem bothered by the fact that we have her captive. No sense of self-preservation at all.”
“I would disagree,” Alred said. “She’s clearly taken steps to protect herself, and she seems to know that we’re not going to harm her. So long as she does not represent a threat to us. And so long as she has knowledge we need.”
“Overly confident annoyance,” Vytln grumbled, shutting the intake chute on the synthesizer and hitting the screen to reset it back to functioning mode.