“David hit that scrawny slaver on the elbow and the assholes arm bent backwards. I've never heard a creature scream like that, but then the big bruiser they normally kept around broke David's neck so fast that I'm not sure he even saw it coming.”
Regi winced at the casual report of horrific violence. He could only hope that this group of pirates had not shared the location of Dante's home world. The idea of a young species being so vulnerable was enough to make Regi's fur stand on end.
In the past, he'd never understood those who chose the goddess of poisons as their personal patron. Intellectually, he understood that Divashi was also the goddess of change and new beginnings. The Efhtee would embrace her if they believed in gods. However, worshiping a goddess who killed in secret and without warning appeared to him to suggest a personal failing. Despite that, Regi would happily offer a few prayers to the lady if she would choose her slowest and most torturous poison for the pirates.
“You mention a ‘bruiser’. Is that a species from your planet?”
Dante made a staccato sound. “I never saw anything that looked like him on my planet. A bruiser is what we call someone who is particularly large and seems to resort to physical solutions to problems, someone who tends to give everyone around him bruises.
Regi made the mental connection between the two forms of the word. Dante's people were very inventive with their language, although they were disturbingly focused on bodily function. Regi was still not sure he understood the nuances of referring to a person as an orifice. “What did the bruiser look like?”
“He was roan-colored and—”
“Wait. That did not translate it all. What is roan?”
“It's the color of a horse.”
Given the article and the matrix’s inability to translate the noun, Regi guessed that was the name of an animal. “What is a horse?”
Dante smiled, and his expression shifted from something narrow and sharp and almost rapacious in its birdlike features to a rounder, friendlier countenance. “If the rest of the universe doesn't have horses, it’s not a place it's worth living in.”
Perhaps Regi had been mistaken. “Is horse a religious object?”
Dante gave a breathy laugh. “There are plenty of folks who would tell you it is. A horse is a large animal that we ride.
“My people also have such animals; we call ours a pebafri. They are associated with the Gavd, god of justice.”
“Good for you. Ours are associated with cowboys, although I have to admit, in Westerns, the local sheriff is usually sitting on his horse.”
Regi had not expected to find that another species associated animals with a function like law. Kowri theologians would be fascinated. Or horrified. Probably horrified. “Can you describe the horse color possessed by the bruiser?”
Dante wrinkled his nose and ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip so that it made an odd bulge as though his face were infected with some parasite. Regi forced his body into stillness before he could shudder with repulsion. “The bruiser had brown and white mottling, real uneven, and then the color got darker lower down.”
A rock formed in Regi's stomach. “Was the bruiser's skin smooth or furred?”
“You've got furry aliens?” Dante appeared surprised.
Regi blinked in surprise before holding his arm out. “I am furred.”
Dante leaned forward and studied Regi's arm. “That doesn't look much like fur.”
Dante ran his delicate fingers down Regi's arm and then back up again. When he stroked against the grain, cold and hot shivers traveled the length of Regi's spine. “That's less like fur than it is like velvet,” Dante said. Then he jerked his hand back. “I apologize. I’m getting a little handsy there. Literally.”
Regi did not understand the function of the apology since Regi did not understand the term velvet well enough to take offense at it. However, he did not want to get sidetracked from his current focus. “Was this bruiser furred? Regi prayed to his goddess that she would pass them over for a blessing just this once.
“No. No hair at all. He had the skin texture of a thick callous.”
Regi's throat constricted. “And were the legs very dark?”
“Yep.”
The gods had blessed them beyond reason. If Regi or the ship attracted many more blessings, they might as well open all the hatches and let the vacuum of space take them to save themselves further grief.
“Given the look on your face, I'm assuming this is bad.”
Regi did not wish to worry Dante since he already carried more trauma than a reasonable creature should. “I still have hope that one of the smaller pirates remains.”
“Not much hope of that. The bruiser was the one alien who always stuck around. If you haven't seen him yet, then he's hiding behind some door.”
