Page 6 of Tempting Fate

“Nice one. I tell you what, I’m glad we’re moving back to town. Zyamzh village isn’t practical.”

I nodded as I parked the speeder. Though I was enjoying our stay in the village—a needed holiday after the stress of being transported half way across the galaxy—I’d be happier once I’d gotten my new life properly established. “Just think of the credits we’re saving. It can’t hurt to have a buffer.”

Layered sounds and smells assaulted my senses as soon as we hopped down to the dusty ground. I tuned them out. We’d run our own errands, pick up the pastry delivery for Zyamzh, and be gone before it got too overwhelming.

As always, I distracted myself, today with the striking synthoid walking a small doorith—six-legged space dogs in as many varieties as on New Earth—along the narrow street, and the new display outside the cybernetics shop. A pair of cyborg mannequins had been posed in an embrace—at least, I hoped they were mannequins. It wouldn’t be a comfortable pose to hold for long, but then I didn’t have cybernetic joints, so what did I know?

“Just quickly in this one,” Fenn said, tugging me into a shop with a faded blue canopy.

Racks of clothes in varied shapes and sizes filled the small space, some on floor-standing racks, others on hover-rails filling all heights of the room.

“What do you think of these?” Fenn held up a pair of trousers in grey polymer fabric with programmable holo-patches on their many pockets.

“They remind me of my school uniform but with more sass.”

Fenn’s mouth quirked in their customary half-smile, and they gave me the middle finger. “I’m bringing Orukem with me next time. She has more taste.”

“Yeah, she does.” The shaa’ith woman was indeed a sharp dresser, and had I been interested, I could have gone along on one of their shopping sprees, but most alien fabrics made my skin crawl. Comfort was still more important than style—even if those styles were fine as heck. I’d stick with my cosy leggings and tunic, thank you very much.

I checked my comm. “We’d better scoot. I just remembered we need more sun cream and stuff too.”

Fenn gazed at the racks of clothes, idly stroking their soft moustache. “Fine. I’ll come back properly on our next day off.”

When we finally got to the bakery, instead of his customary smile, the shaa man behind the counter wore a worried frown. “Ah, my lovely humans! A pleasure to see you as always, but hurry, take your order and leave.” His tall, pointed ears twitched as he spoke, and his bioluminescence was strangely absent from the moulded plumage he had instead of hair. Though it was still stunning shades of cobalt and turquoise, a glorious contrast to the orange of his skin, it seemed dull and lifeless in comparison to usual.

I flicked a glance to Fenn, whose expression was as perplexed as mine. “Why?”

The baker beckoned us closer with a long, slim finger tipped with blue claws, and leaned over the gleaming counter. His melodic, polyphonic tones held an urgency I felt in my chest. “There’s been trouble the last few days with the latest corsair crew to need repairs here. They said they’d be back this morning, and you don’t want to be here.”

Well, that wasn’t weird and worrying at all.

The baker turned to the array of crates behind him, selected one, and pushed it through the counter hatch, where it floated over to us with a whoosh. “Enjoy the pastries. Now go. But I do hope to see you again soon.” His gaze lingered on me before he shooed us away.

We hastened down the little alley, and breathed a little deeper once we got back to the wider streets.

Fenn nudged my arm. “Aww, he likes you.”

“He can like all he wants. I’m not interested.” I wasn’t losing myself again. Not after Ben, after Elora, after I rebuilt myself. Three years of being single had done me just fine, thank you.

We followed the floating crate towards the speeder corral, the rich scent of pastries in my nostrils. This smell I could gladly cope with, far better than the blend of burnt wiring and roasting meat from the marketplace.

“You sure you’re not curious? Come on, he’s objectively hot.”

True. Some species, like shaa and nebaru, seemed to have genetics that gave them easy, defined muscles. Which, yes. Hot. And then there were kri’ith, all built like strongmen, carrying thick flesh over their muscles; Captain Shohari was easily as big as our friend Garrison, if not broader. Also hot. Lucky guy—if things were going okay for him that was. “Nope. Not curious. Not interested.”

No way was I putting myself through a relationship again. I’d never been good enough for my exes, even when I’d tried to be what they wanted, so why would I be good enough for anyone else? I’d made a promise to myself, and once I did that, it was as much a part of me as anything else. No more getting hurt—and therefore no more relationships—ever.

Maybe once I was more settled here I could try something casual—a girl had needs, after all. But this place was so new and I had no routine established yet, so it was an idea for another time.

Anyway, what I really wanted was to get in with the local geoscience guild. Our job in the ruli fields was fine, but it was only temporary, and if some of my friends had gotten jobs within their own specialisms, so could I.

The guild building wasn’t far from here. Last time I’d spoken to them, they’d grilled me on the composition of Vadias, thrown a load of rock names I didn’t know at me, and sent me away—which was bullshit. Just because the English words wouldn’t translate properly didn’t mean I didn’t know what I was talking about. This time, I was determined to find out exactly what they needed me to know. If they’d tell me, I’d learn it.

We stopped at the sound of raised voices along the main thoroughfare, pressing our backs to the building walls as many people backtracked and filtered down the narrow side streets.

“We’d better do the same,” Fenn said.

My skin prickled. The shouting had gotten louder, the cacophony reminding me of the riot on Tathar Refuge. “If we have to.”