Page 7 of Tempting Fate

The side streets were narrow, the press of people stressful, moreso with the number of folk with the same idea as us. We pulled the crate in front of us like a shield.

So much for going to the guild. I focused on my breathing as we walked, all the people in close proximity bringing back too many memories. Shouting. Sweating bodies. Military police. Blaster fire. Being carried along in a tidal wave of bodies, far too small compared to everyone else, terrified we’d get crushed and left behind.

Except we’d been taken from our solar system instead, never to return.

We kept walking, going out of our way to avoid the worst of it, but to no avail. Amongst the jostling, I lost my footing on a loose cobble and stumbled, nearly falling.

A big kri’ith man caught me and set me upright again. “Careful, there, little one.”

The stench of engine oil and fried ruli filled my nose, and I eased away from his grip. “Thanks.”

He flashed me a wide smile, his excessively bejeweled tusks matching the gaudy red of his tunic. “Any time. You going somewhere in a hurry?”

“Just Zyamzh,” I muttered. “Need to get back.” Our boss wouldn’t be impressed if we were late.

“Well, I shan’t keep you.” The huge sapient brushed my arm as he sidled past.

A shudder ran through me. “Why did he have to brush my arm, dammit? Ugh, gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Fenn squeezed the place he’d touched. “Better?”

It was. Damn oversensitive nervous system. “Thanks.” We were near the Wayfarer’s Rest, the boardinghouse we’d checked into when we first arrived nearly a month ago. “May as well dive in, given we’re here.”

It was strange to be back, yet comforting. Bright metal frames broke up the sandy grey stone of the building, and we pushed the pastry crate through the wide doorway and into the lobby.

A grey-green alien with opalescent eyes and tufts of downy hair between their huge, bat-like ears stood behind a carved wooden counter. “Welcome, humans. If you’re here to get a room again, I’m afraid we’re full.” They gave a gleaming smile full of many sharp teeth.

I pushed aside a stab of disappointment. “That’s fine, could we get on the waiting list?” We’d only spent a couple of nights here, but the rooms were comfortable, clean, and—most importantly—familiar.

“Of course, of course.” The receptionist took a sip of their steaming drink before pulling up a holoscreen. “It might be a couple of weeks, but I will let you know if I have anything sooner. Leave your comm IDs, please.” They gestured to the metal comm-reader on the counter.

Fenn and I tapped the sensor on our wrist-comms and transmitted our contact details.

The last time we’d done this, Garrison had been with us. We’d all gotten off the Dorimisa expecting to stay. But instead of settling here like he was supposed to, he’d taken off into the stars again on a frantic rescue mission. I missed him, but was happy he’d had that second chance to be with his kri’ith lover. Captain Shohari was intimidating, but I respected her. Was her brother the same? Would he be gruff, straightforward, and honourable to a fault? Or would he be something completely different?

Maybe Airida would be at home among the stars like his sister, and they’d take over the family business together. The other logical choice was for him to settle here with his fellow shaa’ith. Was he excited to have escaped?

As we hastened to the edge of town, my chest felt lighter. Only a couple of weeks, and I could get my life back on track.

It was a relief to finally reach our speeder, and I took off a little more abruptly than usual, a cloud of dust flying up in the rearview screen.

“Well that wasn’t at all more drama than it needed to be,” Fenn said, deadpan.

“Not at all.” But we’d taken another step towards getting settled and building a new life. “Pastry?”

Yeah, we both deserved one.

“Here they are!” Three shaa’ith, towering over us, hauled the huge crate from the speeder like it was a handbag. Their voices held that subtle lilt that many shaa’ith had, reminiscent of musical, polyphonic shaa speech. “Thanks, little ones.”

Fenn growled, earning deep, rumbling chuckles in return.

We’d been unsure about staying here at first, of course we had been—humans were some of the smallest and most defenceless species out here—but we’d never once felt unsafe, only welcome.

We followed the crate to the kitchen building, a long, single storey metal construction—a jarring modern contrast to the old stone dwellings making up the majority of the village—and helped load the pastries into the cupboard. Though there were plenty of individual dwellings here, food was a communal affair, one of the few positive things they’d brought with them after their lives in the Orithian colonies.

They all looked similar enough to kri’ith, the powerful, muscular species we’d first met back in our own solar system. The broad ear ridges running down each side of their angular faces weren’t quite as wide, and their ridged brows bore the dark eyebrow shading shaa did. And though they all shared the same purple skin tones as kri’ith, the accents of peachy-amber were the much deeper shaa orange.

It was incomprehensible to me—disgusting—that their home planet had rejected them simply for being hybrids. But this was a better life. For them. And for us.