“The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for” - Alexander Chalmers
Chapter One
First Impressions
It’s the simple things that define us, stolen moments that seem to pass by so quickly. Every once and a while we can grab a hold of them, suspend them in eternity and live in them forever, live at light speed. Being frozen in a perfect touch, or the feel of a lover’s breath on your neck, these are small things that show us for who we really are. These simple little examples seem to dwarf the largest mountain, burn brighter then the hottest star. Then they pass, leaving us alone, confused, afraid, as ants screaming at the approaching darkness. Sometimes it’s the greatest evils, the most unstoppable forces that show us just how important these moments are. It’s these precious moments that are truly and simply amazing.
This corner of the galaxy is no stranger to the amazing. Since the beginning of time it has seen stars burst into existence and fade into nothingness. Many mighty civilizations grew and were struck down, immeasurable were the number of lives that had flourished and flickered on a countless collection of worlds. All were as important as they were insignificant. It’s far from understandable just how old all of existence is, and just how young it remained.
It was in a small stretch of space that one unimportant life dwelled, far from any home or bastion of civilization, so remote and alone. Suspended in the deep darkness it sat, a vessel. Small and rotund, the curves of its hull accentuated by a sleek gold stripe running over the top and bottom, covering a scoop like intake just above the ships cockpit. A long sharp windshield was the only way to see inside. Two powerful engines sat on the side, curved into the design, the rear exhaust and smooth front intake the only thing distinguishing them as the ships propulsion system. The arcs reached a crescendo in the form of a large vertical fin, swept forward. The front of this fin was flat, four powerful flood lamps running down its surface, their light great enough to break the cold silent blackness. It was elegant, simple, efficient, a true testament to human design. It was both a work of art and exercise in practicality. However it was also something much more than that, it was a home.
The bottom of the ship suddenly split open, large bay doors releasing a small round silver orb, decorated with an almost random assortment of lights and antennae, like some distant descendent of Sputnik. It hovered for a moment in silence, suspended like its mother in the cold blackness. Then without a second thought it shot off into the distance, followed quickly by two more identical brothers each travelling along their own predetermined course. Their journey was followed intently by the lonely figure moving behind the gold and silver walls of the funny little round craft.
He sat hunched intently over a clear almost plastic console. While as thin as a piece of plywood, it was made of a transparent hardened alloy. Curving upwards in a smooth transition, a computer that was elegant, simple, almost like a piece of art. This sophisticated piece of equipment was abuzz with activity. English lettered keyboards, charts, raw data, all moved across its surface with the grace of an ice dancer. Carefully manipulating it was the large silhouette of one of the most typical, and yet irrevocably damaged of men.
Parker, a man whose personality was in direct conflict with his build. A large man, Parker’s body had fallen victim to years of sedentary work. Countless hours and days spent behind the hull of his ship, charting distant star systems and dark corners of space. His flabby gut hung well over his waist, shoulders drooped, pecks fallen into tits. His dirty blond hair was shaggy and in dire need of a cut, split ends seemed to multiply by the day. A clean shaven though, one part of his grooming that he kept to standard. He had a face full of character, instantly memorable while not attractive in any traditional sense. A large flat nose, wide sunken brown eyes and a sturdy pair of bold lips, the lines and marks made him look far past his age, seeming to be a man of experience rather than someone who was barely out of his twenties. A small scar adorned his left cheek, a relic of his childhood mishaps. He wore a simple pair of comfortable jeans, broken in from much use. His sweater was a faded grey, the decal proclaiming “Cydonia Academy” slowly chipping off.
Whispering a sigh he climbed from his seat, turning away from the endless hours of work and data. Almost as an afterthought his hand fell back to the console’s keyboard, marking an icon that quickly lit under the pressure of his finger. With a sudden chirp the data, charts, and maps on the screen zoomed away and were almost as quickly replaced by a cartoon show. A brightly colored piece of entertainment detailing the chronicles of a superhero that traveled from planet to planet righting wrongs, saving lives, and generally being of use to people.
Parker ignored the program at first, moving about in his ship, his home. The interior was small but more than comfortable enough to live in. No bigger than the size of a studio apartment it was brightly lit by various soft directional lamps, plush deep blue carpet, and gold trim on the steel walls, warm and inviting. Scattered all around were the creature comforts and little luxuries one would find in any home. A small but plush bed sat against the back wall, covered in silk sheets and downy comforters tightly and neatly tucked in to the mattress. Tucked behind a clear round door a personal cleaning chamber existed, powered by sonic waves emitted at such a frequency as to purge anybody of every particle of grime and dirt. A comfortable leather recliner sat in the middle of the cabin, built into its arm a small pad made of the same material as Parker’s large computer. To the side, parallel to that computer was a small counter built into the hull. A round pattern sat on its far left side, an electronic cooking panel, below it a dishwasher utilizing the same technology as the shower. The walls, while curved to the shape of the round outer hull, still reach to a fairly high ceiling. At the front were three modest steps that led into the vessel’s cockpit.
The large front window was the only thing separating Parker from the vacuum of space. Two seats sat beside each other, the left one in front of a bulky round helm system, able to move along as many angles that the ship its self could travel. Another curved console traveled along the left side of the seat, abuzz with information. In the center of the helm was an indented decal, raised swooping chrome letters elegantly spelling “Explorer 10”
His brightly colored cartoon played its self out in the background, Parker’s attention occasionally drawn towards it but just as quickly pulled away. He had seen that particular episode enough times to occasionally mouth along with the corny dialog. He had seen all of the episodes stored in his ship’s massive database enough times to do the same. His days were often filled with such mundane distractions. It has been said that space travel is long periods of boredom occasionally broken up by brief periods of unconsciousness. Well for Parker this was a coldly true reality.
As the hours moved forward Parker made his way around the ship. He neatly and quietly loaded his day’s laundry into a small port on the right wall. The machine hidden by the bulkhead washed, dried, and returned them neatly folded. He put them away in a cabinet built into the left wall. As he moved around, cleaning up loose articles and belongings it became clear how many cabinets and storage compartments were built into the walls of his Explorer 10.
After had had tidied his cabin to his satisfaction he moved onto preparing a meal. Pulling a sealed silver foil bag from a pantry over his counter, he quickly ripped it open and poured its contents into a frying pan. It was a strange assortment of vegetables, some earthbound, some otherworldly. Mixed in among them was a ground beef like substance, only puréed into a smooth paste that almost liquefied upon contact with the air. Placing the pan on the round pattern he instantly watched the temperature rise and the mixture begin to sizzle. The steam emanating from the mess of food was drawn sharply to a small exhaust fan that vented it out into space.
The meal cooked quickly. He emptied it into a small bowl and took it over to his recliner. Plopping down he watched another episode of the adventures of his favorite interplanetary superhero. Stuffing the brown mush into his maw he stopped only to occasionally laugh at the appropriate parts and comment to himself just how cool and strong the fictional character was. Quickly devouring the rest of the mush with barely a gasp for air Parker climbed back to his feet, casually putting his dishes away in the cleaner.
With a huff of a hard day’s work he pulled off his sweater. His body a mass of flab and random patches of hair, far from the chiseled abs of the fictional hero he idolized. Climbing out of his pants he stepped nude into the sonic chamber. What little grime he had accumulated was quickly purged under the intense sonic battery. The sensation gave him a feeling of comfort and calmness, so as a result he spent more time than needed cleaning himself. Occasionally he paused to break wind or spend a little too long cleaning the area around his groin.
After he was finished he moved out of the chamber, continuing to be naked and have most of his body fall to the pity of ships artificial gravity. Returning to his console, a quick flurry of commands and prompts wrapped up his days work. The silver descendents of Sputnik were returning to their nest in the belly of the ship, bringing with them the next day’s worth of information to process and convert to charts and maps. Parker looked forward to it, being a Cartographer was his great joy in life. Cartography was something he poured all his attention and knowledge into, often going to great and almost obsessive lengths perfect.
After a few more hours of TV and a stolen moment of awkward and shameful self pleasure with his tidy collection of exotic pornography Parker decided he had enough of the day and prepared to retire. He walked over to his console once again. Hitting another few select commands the lights and screens in the cabin slowly faded to black. Before the last one could extinguish he climbed into his bed, pulling the soft silk sheets and warm comforters over his soft nude body. There were a few long moments of staring out into the darkness, alone with his uncomfortable thoughts, obscene sexual desires, and self aggrandizing heroic fantasies. Slowly he drifted to sleep, leaving it all behind in a soothing slumber.
Anxious dreams filled his sleep, visions of running from some unknown enemy only to find that he’s traveling in circles unable to escape, relentlessly chased by something unstoppable and primal. Desperate moments of sexual frustration also filled these nightmares, beautiful women tempting him, only to vanish, slip away into darkness. Feelings of failure, deep sadness, pain. It all bounced around his head, swirling in a tangent of delirium and shame.
Tonight’s dreams were especially brutal. If the random assortment of images and feelings could be described as having a theme, it would clearly be uselessness. Parker felt useless. It was a feeling that had been there for as long as he could remember, but was always intentionally buried under work or cartoons or food. His dreams were the only way this screaming pain could find voice, and it made sure it was heard.
A nude woman approached him from the mist, her body perfect and supple, and a face soft and warm. Long maroon hair that seemed to flow and bounce with a grace of its own. He could almost feel her touch and taste her smell. She pressed close to his chest, her breasts pressing into him, hard nipples and soft skin. He glided his hands down her bare sides. For a moment he felt loved, but then a wave of fear spread over him, a desperate sinking feeling, dread of the inevitable. The woman leaned in, her ruby red lips pressing against his ear, tongue wetly licking his lobe. Parker pressed his palms against her firm ass. Sharply she leaned back and looked deeply into his eyes, her own turning black like jewels. They looked into his soul, seeing him for who he really was, scared and alone, an eternal loser.
“Emergency Alert” she softly whispered. Parker felt confused and worried.
“What?” he asked nervously.
“Emergency Alert” she said it louder this time. “Emergency Alert, Emergency Alert! Emergency Alert!! EMERGENCY ALERT!!!” each time she spoke louder and louder, until finally she was screaming it, her voice shrill and terrifying.
Parker’s eyes shot open, quickly shaking off the disorientation and grogginess of his sleep to see that his beloved vessel was screaming at him.
“EMERGENCY ALERT!”
He shot up out of his bed, his feet slamming with a hard thud against the floor, his fat nude body silhouetted against the large luminous screen. On it danced the words “Emergency Alert!” in bright red frighteningly bold lettering.
“This Ship Has Alarms!?” he proclaimed with a great deal of a nervous quiver. In the six years he had owned his Explorer 10, never once had it blared something so viciously. With a fast gallop he jetted over to the console, typing furiously into the large projected keyboard. Images of a vessel began to pop up on the screen. It was unlike anything he had ever seen or read about. The size was small, exceptionally so. The vessel had the basic shape of a cylinder, its hull made of an unidentified alloy. He redirected every sensor he had at his disposal towards it. It was approximately four meters wide and two meters high. The hull had no ports, external sensors, weapons, anything. It was completely smooth, only a few scorch marks were some stray asteroid had bounced off the hull.
No engines, no attitude adjusters. It was obviously not a probe or a satellite of any kind, but definitely manufactured by someone. Maybe a capsule Parker mused to himself. He intensified his scan, penetrating the outer hull. A schematic popped up, detailing part of the inside of the ship. It was hollow alright, but what this? Four internal chambers lining the interior in a circular pattern. He pushed his sensors even further, frantically calibrating and recalibrating until every circuit had been pushed to their limit. That’s when he stopped in indescribable shock. Displayed on his screen was the unmistakable shape of four non-descript humanoid figures, each occupying a chamber.
“Oh No, I know what this is” he whispered to himself in disbelief. He denied for a brief moment but the conclusion was inescapable. The craft was some kind of stasis pod, perhaps an escape vehicle from some larger vessel. After a few small moments of being helplessly immobile he sharply drew his attention back to his readings. On the bottom flat surface of the cylinder was a small hatch, still tightly sealed with a fourfold clamp system. Parker took another reading of the pods dimensions. They were perfect, perfect to do what he had in mind.
On the right side of his ship, just above the large engine was a small docking port. His ship being the size it was he could normally just land in the hanger bay of any craft he came across, so he had rare occasion to use it. The port contained a steel aperture that could seal it’s self around any alien hatch. There was no standardized docking system among the many different races inhabiting the galaxy so human vessels adopted this technology to always insure a perfect fit. It was a necessity that many took for granted, but not Parker, not today.
He climbed the stairs to his cockpit and proceeded with his plan. His curiosity matched only by his anxiety. Piloting his vessel towards the tumbling pod he matched their rotations perfectly, small attitude jets constantly firing to adjust his course. The hatch on the side of his ship lined up directly parallel to the alien pod’s hatch. He slowly closed the distance, guiding the helm of his vessel with an uncanny level of clockwork precision. The distance slowly became smaller and smaller, till and audible clunk rippled through his cabin. The steel aperture sealed tightly around the hatch. The small crawlspace between the main cabin and the vacuum of space pressurized with a sharp hiss.
Realizing that being nude was not his best first impression, and also that the interior of the pod was bound to be cold he decided his best course of action was to get dressed. He quickly climbed down from the cockpit and pulled a pair of jeans and another sweater out of hidden dresser in the wall by his bed. He pulled the last article of clothing over his body and began to strap a pair of heavy leather boots to his feet. Once they were firmly secure he sat up from his bed, the anxiety rising in his stomach like some kind of pot coming to a boil. Visions of what was inside that pod danced in his head, were they human… or completely alien, most likely they would all be dead… but maybe not. There was no way to tell how long that craft had been tumbling its way through this system. There was a reason he was getting paid good money to chart it, because no human vessel had ever been there.
He made his way over to another hidden locker, this one occupied by various emergency supplies. He pulled from it a small plastic case, a symbol on the top indicating that its contents were dangerous and required skill to operate. He then grabbed a large mask from the top shelf. It was primarily made of rubber and steel, with two large tinted oval eye pieces, and a small round steel filter jetting out from the side. He pulled it onto his face, the straps almost immediately tightening themselves to the contours of his head. The rubber formed a tight seal around his face and he peered out from behind the tinted eyes. The low steady tone of his breathing began to emanate from the filter. He picked up the case and headed over to the small five step ladder that led to the hatch.
He slowly climbed the rungs, pausing for a moment at the top to hit the open command on panel adjacent to the first hatch. The doorway cracked open and a small rush of air hit Parker’s body. The inside was dark. Parker’s hand drifted up to the side of his mask, finger tip falling on an indent. Two small lights ignited just above their respective eye pieces, their beams breaking the black and illuminating the alien hatch. Parker pulled his large body into the small crawlspace, closing the entrance to his ship behind him.
He had no room to stand or to sit, he just squatted. Putting the small case on the little bit of floor left he clicked it open. Inside was a small handheld device, a curved handle reaching up into a small metal point. A small shield separated the two pieces, just below it a pressure sensitive button that one’s thumb would rest on. Parker pulled the device from its case and secured it in his left hand. With his right he looked back up at the alien hatch and began to wipe the layers of dust and dirt that had built up over the first seal, it looked thick. He shook his head in disbelief one last time and with a click ignited the cutting torch in his hand. Sharply pressing the red glowing end to the thick hatch he was calmly surprised by how easy the burning plasma melted away at it.
In under a minute he had firmly separated it from the hull, moving on he made easy work of the other three. Once they had all been slit he shut off the cutter and secured it back in his case. Parker danced his finger around the hatch, knocking off layers of dirt and other build up. Finally the tips of his fingers ran over a seam, his entry point into the pod. Wanting to get it over with quickly, as his legs were going numb Parker pulled a small flat pry bar from the same case as the cutter. Its end struck the seam with a tang that reverberated throughout the tiny crawl way.
A heavy heave and the hatch began to slowly split open, its seal breaking for the first time since it was closed and sent drifting through space. Another rush of air smashed through the crack, this one stronger then the last, and bringing with it an indescribable odor, so strong that it penetrated the thick sealed mask around Parker’s face. He paused for a moment, gagging beneath the power of the stench. After a second to regain his composure he continued to pry the hatch, splitting open further. Parker quickly dropped the bar and began to pull it further apart with his hands, the strain causing him to grunt and scream in frustration.
Finally it gave way and sprung open, nearly causing Parker to tumble in face first. His hands quickly shot up, grabbing the edge of the pod and regaining his balance. The beams from his mask continued in, illuminating the four coffin like chambers inside. A brief pause and an all too uncomfortable moment of silence hung in the stale air. Slowly Parker moved his head in, that anxious feeling in his gut now building to a climax, his mouth dry and pursed, eyes wide with anticipation. Slowly he crawled forward, his lights shining down into the chamber directly below. Parker’s eyes grew to their widest, that anxious feeling now screaming in terror, screaming for him to run. He couldn’t.
Inside the chamber was a lifeless body, as far from human as he had ever before seen. A creature that he could have never imagined. Black skin, smooth like that of an Orca or Dolphin, white markings decorating its body like some kind of genetic mural. It was the hands the frightened Him the most, completely alien, three long fingers extending from the top of the palm, 4 joints each ending in a long impossibly sharp looking claw. On either side two long double jointed thumbs, stubby and fat. Parker’s eyes drifted up to the aliens face. No nose, just a smooth transition from its deeply indented eye sockets. The mouth was horrible, long and curved, traveling down the sides of its cheeks like some kind of terrifying circus clown. Its black lips parted just enough to see the mouth full of small blunt square teeth. The alien had no hair, instead a series of baffled lizard like flaps that seemed to move up and down slowly, a sign that it was still breathing, still living.
This strange alien was taller than Parker, at least by a foot. Its long spindly legs with knees bent backwards ending in a pair of claw like feet. It was completely nude, exposed genitals while far from normal but left the unmistakable conclusion that this particular individual was an example of a male of their species.
His eyes moved back over the alien a few more times, letting his brain come to grips with what he was seeing. Parker then moved his attention to the other chamber. It was on the left, curved along the wall. His light shown directly into the glass. The source of the stench suddenly became all too clear. Inside was another one, only this one far slenderer and about a foot shorter, a female? Closer inspection confirmed this, only this one wasn’t breathing. No movement in its fins, its face contorted in agony, long lizard like purple tongue lolling horribly out of its mouth, eyes bulged open and scabbed over with a milky green lens. There was claw marks on the chamber, as if the poor creature had tried in failed desperation to escape. Parker felt a wave of pity for this poor monster, suffocated in a small glass tube surrounded by its unconscious brethren. He tried not to think too hard about and instead chose to quickly focus on another chamber.
The one on the right wall, yet another example of the same race, only this one smaller, about four to five feet in height. Everything was smaller, fingers, eyes, mouth. Another female, most likely a child, no telling how developed but far from the examples in the other two chambers. She was breathing, that revelation gave Parker another strange feeling, this time one of relief. Alien or not finding a dead child is something that he could live his life without.
He breathed a happy sigh behind his mask and then turned his attention towards the chamber above his head. The light once more bounced through the glass and brightened the figure inside. Parker stopped for a moment, his head cocking back in disbelief. He recognized the fourth alien, not on any personal level but he certainly recognized her species, though it took a moment for his mind to accept it.
“A Fleabag?!” Racist slang for her species, Latans. They were called that by humans because there entire body was covered in a thin soft fur, this one’s deep red. Latans were mammals the same as humans, in turn they shared many of the same characteristics, the same shape of hands, feet, body. The only major difference besides the coat of fur was their faces. They had almost animal like faces, short muzzles, black cat like noses, and eyes solid black with no visible pupils or irises. Her ears, round, almost like that of a lemur or other small rodent, her lips thin and black
Latans were one of the first species humanity encountered when it ventured beyond its own territory into the darkness of space. They were mostly peaceful, meaning that they didn’t see humans as easy prey like so many other races did in those first wild years.
This particular Latan was small, a petite build, strangely attractive by her own race’s standards. Parker looked at her naked body for a moment, his mind wandering deliriously close to strange territory before a sharp involuntary jerk of his neck snapped him back to the situation at hand.
He was faced with an instant dilemma, one he hadn’t considered in his head long rush to investigate the mysterious pod. What was he supposed to do know that he had opened it? Seeing that these aliens, while strange and unfamiliar were in need of help. One of them had already suffered and died because the chamber she was in had failed, the same could very well happen to the rest of them.
Then a cold dark voice crept up in the back of his mind. With the exception of the Latan he had no idea what this species was capable of. He could open there chambers and they would tear him to pieces; the fearsome claws on the male only strengthened this dread. Parker had never known any aliens on a personal level, and had barely come across any in his job. Humans after all had gotten a bad first impression of the galaxy upon their first explorations and had become a xenophobic bunker race, keeping to their own little corner of the galaxy.
Parker looked back up at the Latan and decided that no matter what fear he had he couldn’t just leave them there to die. He decided his next step quickly; he would wake her up first. He searched around, the beams of light from his mask bouncing around the small interior until they finally rested on a small red pump on the far edge of her chamber. Parker slowly climbed further into the pod, his fat gut squeezing against the glass of the chamber below him. There was no gravity plaiting so the further he crawled in the more weightless he became, until finally his hand grasped the small red pump handle.
With a heavy grunt he began to pull it down, the hard frozen pump creaking and straining as he pressed as much of his weight as he could into it. It moved slowly for about a half an inch then suddenly broke loose, sharply arcing down. A seam in the middle of the Latan’s chamber split open with a thunderous sharp hiss and then blossomed open.
The petite nude furry body of the alien slowly began to drift downwards, out of the chamber that had been holding her. Parker quickly scurried backwards and grabbed her falling frame. The lower half of his body back in the crawl way he began to pull her out. She became heavier and heavier as they both entered the embrace of his ships artificial gravity. He gently climbed back down the ladder into his cabin, pulling her limp body with him. With a small jump he fell from the ladder to the cabin floor, cradling the alien in his arms. With a fast pace he quickly took her over to his disheveled bed, laying her gently upon it and covering her naked body with a blanket. With a thick jerk he pulled the heavy mask from his face and discarded it onto his leather chair.
His modest Explorer 10 had nothing like a functional sickbay, just a few medical supplies and first aid kit or two. He quickly collected what he had available and returned to her side. Opening a small grey case he pulled out a small gold flat device, a medical scanner. Glimpsing in his mind back to the days of high school exobiology he remembered that a Latan’s heart was around there lower back.
He rolled her onto her side, propping her unconscious body up with one hand he took the other and pressed it to her spine. The read out on the device lit up, displaying in bright lettering
“READING…” the words hovered for a moment then a flurry of information began to spring up. He pressed a few keys and the readouts moved from the small handheld device to the large screen a few feet away. He turned and began to examine it. She was breathing regularly, heart beating normal. Parker moved over to the console, leaving the alien unconscious on his bed. With a few more taps at his panel he examined more and more of the Alien’s vitals. She was in perfect health by her species standards, still young and fit. Parker studied the information further, becoming engrossed in the data. This was the first time he had ever seen the vital readouts from another species, he became engrossed in it.
He was in the middle of examining her circulatory system when a sudden and ferocious scream sprang from behind. The scream caused his heart to evacuate his chest and his body to lock in intense fear. He quickly pulled away from the console and spun around, seeing the Latan sitting sharply up in the bed and screaming as if she had just awoken from the most terrible of nightmares. Her black jewel like eyes wide, slender fingers holding the sheets of the bed in a clenched grip. Suddenly she fell to her side, leaning over the edge of the bed and heaving. She began to gag and vomit onto the cabin floor, putrid green bile.
Parker held his ground and then slowly began to walk back over. The Alien wiped the remaining vomit from her lips and slowly looked up, dark eyes focusing against the light. Her attention was quickly drawn to the moving silhouette, she recoiled back against the wall sharply, eyes wide with fear.
“Betal... *cough* betal duma del mya!?” she exclaimed sharply, the details of her alien language slipping past, but not its intent. Her voice urgent and feminine, a strange indescribable accent.
“I uh, I found your ship. I won’t hurt you, I’m sorry” Parker tried to make his intent clear too, though a rambling stutter broke from his voice. He held his hands up in a gesture of peace. He stopped for a moment. Her eyes began to adjust to the light and the figure in front of her began to take shape. Her small body eased as she began to recognize the alien
“Vemino?.... uh” she paused for a moment, thinking visibly. Her black jewel eyes danced back and forth, looking down at her naked body sitting in the soft bed. She pulled the sheets closer, covering her bare breasts. “Uh… Human?”
“Yes, I’m Human, you’re on my ship” Parker smiled, happy that this creature recognized his own species and that they may be able to communicate on some level.
“I uh…. I where?” her voice trembled a little, an air of confusion as she struggled to find the words she needed.
“On my ship, in the Cetauri Cluster” Parker gestured to a large chart that was displayed on the screen behind him. The alien looked up and saw the arrangement of constellations and heavenly bodies.
She began to relax, her shoulders eased and her posture became slightly less defensive. She sat up in the bed. She sharply tightened up again as a small flat robot emerged from a nearby wall but she eased as she saw that its intent was to clean the vomit off of Parker’s floor.
“Sorry…” she said, gesturing to the mess
“Its fine, that’s why I have it” he laughed nervously. Standing up he walked over to a dispenser in the wall and poured a glass of water for the poor confused alien. “You speak English, I’m impressed, and surprised” he returned with the glass and handed it to her. She drank at it, clearing the acid from her throat.
“I speak many languages,” she said softly, her voice still strained “Need To” The frightened little alien swung her legs off the bed, resting her tiny bare feet on the plush carpet. Small soft hands moved up and began to cradle her head, eyes closed in a final wash of disorientation. She paused for a moment, her haunting black eyes down at the floor, but not focused on anything specific. Parker watched her curiously, holding himself in an awkward silence.
The alien’s furry feline like face pulled up out of her hands and her eyes began to look Parker over.
“The others!?” she exclaimed, her voice containing a hint of restrained urgency.
“Um… there still in the pod… but you should know that one of them is dead. The adult Female” Parker’s tact and consideration are almost nonexistent. His sudden declaration traveled like a bullet through the Latan’s heart, her hands drop and her lips part into a small triangle of shock and despair.
“What?” Her voice trembled, that strange alien accent becomes more pronounced, her eyes wide and desperate. “How… How!!!” Her scream is piercing, ethereal. Parker quickly gestures for her to calm down, his hands raised.
“I’m sorry. The pod must have failed. I don’t know how but… well she’s been dead for a while”
“I have to see” Her head darted around, eyes quickly scanning the small cabin. She spotted the ladder leading to the open hatch. Her body shot up, pulling away from the silk sheet wrapping her nakedness. It falls from her chest, exposing her nude breasts. Parker quickly pulls his eyes away; a crippling modestly flushes his face.
Discarding the sheet altogether the Latan sprints across the cabin, her body moving with a level of grace and agility far removed from Parker’s own awkward shuffle. In under a second she is from the bed and halfway up the rungs. She pushed her head inside the crawlway, looking across the darkness at the dead alien, face frozen in horrible pain.
“No….No!” she exclaimed, holding back tears. Slowly she climbed back down the ladder. Parker quickly grabbed one of his robes and wrapped it around her, her nudity making him uncomfortable. The garment built for his large frame covered her like some kind of ceremonial gown. She pulled it around her shoulders and slowly walked back into the ship. Her impossibly slender body quivered, devastated and racked with grief.
“You knew her?” Parker tried to speak with as much sympathy and understanding as he could, unable to properly convey either. The Latan nodded, she stood perfectly still, clutching the old tattered robe tighter. Parker moved a little to his left, keeping his distance from her. He paused for a moment, his hands nervously fiddling with each other. Finally he built up his courage and asked what he had been waiting to ask since he found her unconscious body. “Who are you? Who are they?… I mean I know you’re a Latan but I have never seen their species before”
The slender little alien woman paused and her deep black eyes danced over, her mind fluttering with reluctance and anxiousness. Slowly she looked back up at the fat stranger standing before her, a soft look of apprehensive caution. She pulled a breath into her short muzzle and lowered her perfect black eyes down to the floor.
“My name’s Serel Ambria Demura Techa Mui” Parker paused, a look of confusion slowly building. The alien could see this “Ambria… you can call me Ambria” Parker nodded, a light smile crossed his lips.
“I’m Parker… Parker Anton McKenzie” he humbly introduced himself, a playful gallant half bow of his head following. Ambria just held her apprehensive look, continuing to quietly study this large pink creature. Her head dipped slightly, she moved forward with what she had to say.
“We had…trouble” She quivered, keeping a steady distance from the giant in the room. Her eyes moved from the floor to Parker. “We were on a…transport, a Refugee ship. We were escaping a war, a terrible war. The aliens… we had the same room; we shared it for the journey. We were attacked, opportunists… um pirates I guess you human’s call them. They saw us as easy prey, they were brutal. The ship was badly damaged, we um, we were forced into the pods. They make us take our clothes off so we can fit better. I climbed in with them…the glass closed… that’s all I remember” She sounded sincere, and it was as good an explanation as any. Parker’s eyes locked with hers, they held a long analyzing look.
“All we wanted was to go some place safe” her voice was almost a whimper, a strange pleading that welled an abyss of sympathy inside Parker. He nodded, choosing to not push the subject any further. The poor creature had been through enough. “You have to wake them up!” the sudden rise in her tone set him back; this was a demand cold and stern. That doubt inside him built again, visions of evisceration and pain danced in his mind.
“Sorry, I don’t think that would be appropriate, I have to send for a support ship. Once there here they can revive them and…” suddenly Ambria sharply moved forward, her small slender hand pulling out from the robe. She quickly moved to Parker, two long graceful strides closing the distance between them. Sharply her open hand reached out and grabbed his arm, closing tightly around his wrist.
The contact sent a violent chill up his spine, an anxious rattle in his very soul. Parker hadn’t been touched like this in a long time, having spent nearly a decade without the embrace of a woman.
“You can’t do that! Wake them now!” she yells. Parker pulls his arm away, widens the space between himself and Ambria. The contact as well as her exasperation has made him physically uncomfortable, a pit of fear and self doubt building like a fuse, a prelude to a detonation. Quickly he pulled away from her, sharply yanking his wrist from her grasp.
“No… no I can’t… I mean that’s not um… appropriate and … I” He stopped his stammer short, sharply pulling back his words and reexamining them. A small pause, a search for the right words, after a few seconds he finally thought he found them “Look. It’s not that I can’t trust you. But how am I supposed to know that you won’t... well that once there awake they won’t decide to… hurt me and take my ship. I mean that Creature”
“His name is Deka! Muria dema faso, te mia!!” Her voice welled with a sudden snap of anger, a burning in her alien voice that seemed to scattershot through the Explorer’s cabin. It stopped Parker, that knot in his gut tightening. He paced over to the entrance to the cockpit, his head shaking back and forth almost involuntarily. Ambria paused, reeling her untapped anger back. She could see were this human was coming from, but it still made her deep pool of rage swell. Quickly she mulled over her options, looking back up at the nervous Parker.
“Look. This is human ship. I have no idea how to fly. I speak human but I can’t read it. The others have never even met a human before. They have no idea either” The sudden calm filling the air from her voice made Parker settle. The soft unnatural tone of her feminine voice had that soothing effect, like the best, softest lullabies. He ran his stubby fat fingers through his erratic hair. What she had said rippled through his mind, a shockwave that seemed to push his doubt away.
“Look… I’ll lock the main navigational computer out with a pass code. That way I can guarantee that I’m the only one who can fly this ship okay?” Ambria nodded, knowing that this was the best concession she could get. It didn’t matter; she had to wake the others up at any cost. Parker saw her acceptance, keeping his eyes pulled away from her every moment he didn’t have to acknowledge her presence. He quickly moved up the steps into the cockpit, taking a quick seat in the curved pilot’s seat, his hand drifting over to the left console. Quickly his hand danced over the command keys, locking out all command options and inputting a quick password. It was a simple word, one he would never forget, but would be impossible to guess for someone who didn’t really know him. A sudden sharp doubt moved through his mind like a shotgun blast. Did anyone really know him?
He quickly shook the feeling off and moved from the console. The system was locked, only he could fly the ship. His large body shuffled its way through the small entrance, silently regarding Ambria. They both new they couldn’t prolong the inevitable anymore; it was time to wake the others up.