Dante's eyebrows lifted, drawing closer to the shaggy hair on the top of his head. “I don't want to malign your faith, and it's good to know that someone in the universe still has some respect for the Almighty, but can you give me something more reassuring for someone who is not a devotee of your gods?”
“What reassurance can I offer you?” Regi would offer any words within his power to speak.
“Good question. I've no idea. However, if we get blasted out of space and I survive slavers and kidnapping only to die because you overestimated your people's faith in your gods, I am going to be cranky.”
Given Dante’s verbal preference for shocking metaphors, the words surprised Regi. “I assume your emotions will be far stronger than that.” Perhaps huumans might be one of those species who did not avoid death.
Dante gave another gasping laugh. “Oh, I will be. When my people feel particularly strongly on a subject, we often express it humorously by either overstating or understating the effect. So I tell you I'm angry enough to spit nails, you’re safe. If I suggest I’m a mite bit annoyed, you might want to go looking for another place to hang your hat.”
Regi had to take a moment to mentally decipher the metaphor. “That is excellent information. I shall add it to the database under ‘huuman’ and ensure that others understand that quirk of your communication. Now I came to escort you to the pirate ship. Ean fears you may suffer trauma returning to the place of your imprisonment, but she also said that she had a particularly tenuous connection with you and that you might prefer me as a supportive face.” Regi tried his best to look harmless. At least huumans had the advantage of never having seen the daunting Kowri warships. New crew members tended to stare rudely. Still, harmless was not a role Regi attempted often.
“She kept trying to get me to talk about my feelings. Where I come from, that is generally not done.”
“Much of the crew feels the same,” Regi admitted, “but luckily there are enough crew who desire emotional expression that she is generally too busy to bother the rest of us.” It hadn’t occurred to Regi that Dante might resent Ean’s calm presence. When crew suffered a trauma, such as when a young engineer had lost a hand in a small explosion, they typically clung to Ean.
“Well next time she tries talking to me, please take someone who wants to talk about their feelings and throw him into her path.”
Regi smiled. “I shall do my best to do exactly that. Would you like to go now? We have some very nice quarters set up, ones that will not remind you of your previous occupancy.”
Dante stood. “I cleaned every inch of that ship from stem to stern. No part of that ship is free of memories. However, it seems like we don't have time for me to lose my shit and I am a practical man. So let's get this over with.”
Regi studied him. It was possible he was attempting to hide his emotional distress, but in the end, Dante was right about one thing: they didn't have a lot of choice.
“Follow me.” Regi headed out into the hall, trusting Dante to follow. Maybe being trusted and given the choice whether to follow or not would be enough to keep the worst of the nightmares at bay. No one deserved what Dante had suffered, and Regi regretted that the capriciousness of the gods meant that Dante now had to return to the scene.
With one last prayer that the gods could please withhold any further blessings, at least until they got back to the Empire, Regi led the way to the pirate ship.
Chapter Six
Dante took one lookat the room Regi had chosen for him and announced, “Yeah, no.” While his words were ambiguous, his actions were not. He turned and fled the room so quickly that Regi had to step back to avoid a collision. He stood in the corridor, his breath ragged and his chest heaving. His skin had lost most of the pink tones, turning lighter than Regi’s gray stripes.
“Are you unwell?” Regi asked.
Dante waved a hand in a sweeping gesture that meant nothing to Regi. Regi waited while Dante’s breathing slowed. “Not that room,” Dante said.
“Are you in distress?
