They all chuckle as Zilas delivers large earthenware cups of tea.
I pull mine to me, curling my hands around it. The warmth is nice, but as I lean in and smell the steam, I frown.
“What is wrong, Tristan?” Zilas asks, concern obvious.
“Oh shit, nothing, sorry, Zilas,” I blurt quickly. “I’m sure it’s wonderful. It’s just, I’m such a coffee addict.” I chuckle, “In fact, I moonlighted as a barista. To make ends meet.”
The three gorgeous aliens—myaliens—gaze at me blankly.
Finally, Azane says, “Most of those words do not translate, omega.”
I laugh, waving my hand, “It’s fine. I was saying I miss a certain drink humans prefer in the morning, and that I actually used to prepare it for money.”
“Ah...” Ink frowns. “Their linen-and-cotton economic system.” She shakes her head, shaggy hair bouncing, “Capitalism.”
Both Zilas and Azane make unimpressed sounds.
I lift my cup to my mouth, blowing gently, “I actually had some packed to bring, but was told it would have to stay. I guess there is some form I can do? Office of Integration?”
A beep interrupts us, Azane’s mouth already open. She pulls out the slightly-larger-cell-phone-thing, intense blue eyes dropping to it.
“Shit,” she mutters, “I need to deal with this.”
Inken looks at her, face questioning, but Azane waves her away.
Azane leaves the kitchen, and I turn to Ink.
“So... you called me something last night and I am unsure of the translation,” I blush as I say it, eyes flicking between her and Zilas. “Um...kitten. What does this word mean to you?”
She chuckles, “How would that word translate? You certainly do not have cats on Earth.”
“We do!” I exclaim. “Four legs, fur, sharp teeth. They are... uhh...” I pause, not sure if predator translates, “they eat smaller animals. We keep them as pets.”
Inken nods at each of my descriptors. Zilas brings over plates of some blue bread topped with what looks like green scrambled eggs.
“Huh, how is that possible?” He rubs his chin. “Perhaps their cats are descended from some a Celnoe brought there?” He sits with us and picks up the two-pronged fork.
“I don’t know, I thought you hadn’t made contact with us until twelve years ago?” I take a bite. “Mm, damn, Zilas, this is good!”
His cheeks darken.
Ink says, “Yeah,officialcontact. But... over a flow ago, lots of Celnoe kind of... visited. Off the books.” She frowns, obviously not happy with this law-breaking.
I chew, pondering that.What incredible history they must have, to have had interstellar capabilitiesfor that long.
“What is it, omega?” Inken’s voice and face are soft as she looks at me.
I chuckle awkwardly. “Oh, lots of things.”
Her hand lands firmly on my thigh. “Tell your alpha. It is our job to take care of you. Spoil you, keep you happy.”
I blink hard, some emotion welling up in me. “Well, I was wondering if you had movies, specifically about your history.”
“‘Movies’ does not translate.”
“Um... moving book pictures?” I try.
Zilas snorts.
