“This won’t stand up to a bioscan or even a closer second look, but it’ll help the casual glance,” Han insisted. “Why are you so resistant?”
He was trained from a young age to keep his feelings to himself. Hurt, frustration, disappointment, and even too much exuberance could earn a child extra chores or the loss of their favorite activity. Courage, fortitude, and mild aggression were heavily rewarded.
All of that meant it was nearly impossible for him to even form the thought in his mind, let alone speak it out loud.
“Zeph, what’s going on?”
“I haven’t seen my sister since we left the cresh,” he said. “It’s been many solars.”
Han’s brows crinkled in confusion. “I still don’t understand.”
He looked away from Han’s inquisitive gaze. “I looked like this when she saw me last.”
She stepped closer and her soft human hands rested on his chest. “Are you worried she won’t recognize you?”
Hearing her say it made him feel foolish. His sister was the only reason he’d worked so hard to survive, at least until he met Han. Protecting Han gave more meaning to his life, but his sister was still the first person he’d ever cared about.
Outside of Han and Tumoro, his sister was the only person he cared about. Their constant correspondence gave him the image of a successful Talin. What if she found out what he’d done?
He wasn’t sure he could live with her disappointment.
The thought made his chest tighten. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Han rubbed a hand over his heart. “She’s your sister. She’ll recognize you.”
He met her gaze. “How can you be so certain?”
She grinned up at him. “Because I am.”
Her nonsense was making his chest relax a little. “You have no evidence and all the confidence.”
She laughed. “It’s the human way. What we don’t have in size, we make up for in unearned chutzpah.”
He rumbled with amusement as his INT translated the term chutzpah as audacity. That fit Han perfectly. She was a human with the audacity to thrive in a universe with no mercy.
“Elder?” Tumoro said. Elder was the title usually reserved for the most senior male in a family. Although he’d asked the young Ugarian to stop calling him by the honorific, it seemed to be a habit.
“Yes?” he answered without bothering to correct Tumoro.
“Have you really not seen your sister since you were children?” he sounded devastated. During their trip together, he’d gotten to know Ugarian culture in general and Tumoro specifically. Among Ugarians, life began and ended with the family. Because he didn’t have a family, Tumoro wasn’t sure he had the right to exist.
He wanted them to be his new family, and Zeph found he wasn’t opposed to it. As long as they all had their own rooms in the near future!
“Yes, it’s true,” he said. “But I’m learning that isn’t a good way to be a family.”
“The guilt is killing me!” Han burst out, startling him.
“Guilt?” both he and Tumoro said at the same time.
Han let out a little uncomfortable laugh. “I promised my mom I’d be home in time to celebrate this big holiday. With the two of you talking about the importance of family, I feel really guilty for missing it again.”
“Has it happened already?” Zeph asked.
“Not yet,” she said, then named the date of the celebration. Zeph unclipped his Ident and checked the dates. Even if they left tomorrow, they’d never make it back to Filsin Station in time, let alone Inneeko.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I'm keeping you from your pack during an important cultural time.”
“They’re my family, not pack. I feel guilty, but it’s not your fault. I knew what I was getting into. Maybe if I buy a lot of presents they won’t give me too much grief. Mom hinted that she wanted a fancy pack-organizer.” She gave him a big grin. “Besides, I’m eager to meet your sister!”
