Part 9

Odd Jobs

           "Suhk, the next time you're late I'll have you [ ]." Kitchen master and master chef Kudri was mad again. "I don't care who you are or where you're from, you're still a servant in my kitchen and you will act [accordingly?]. Now get out there with this [ ]."
           "Yes master!" I bowed as befit a waiter servant before pulling the next course off the kitchen counter and making a break for the exit. Once safely out of sight behind the refrigerators I balanced it on my head and waltzed through the washing aisle. Young assistant chefs laughed or sneered, but they were all amused enough not to turn me in. Cleaning off vegetables and meat wasn't that interesting, so they took their laughs where they could get them. If it snubbed Kudri I was only too happy to oblige.
           "Going to get yourself in trouble, Suhk, dancing around like that. Kudri doesn't like you too much, you know," Terue managed between giggles. I sidestepped over to my favorite Hrasi chef and hugged her around the neck. Normally that would have been suicide, but Terue really liked me. She laughed as I crinkled her flowing white chef's suit and even lifted her up an inch, making her drop the Aarn'fos (a cute white rodent that tastes like, of all things, melons) she'd been gutting back into the sink. "Hey, you! Be nice!"
           Hrasi chefs are sexy. It's a universal truth. The reason why is that they groom meticulously, literally brushing out every loose hair that might get into a dish they're making. What's more, they usually oil their bodies to keep anything they shed stuck to them. Granted, it gives them an unusual aversion to open flame, but a sleek, immaculate, oiled-up Hrasi is quite an alluring prospect. Oh, and they can cook too.
           "Ah, he's not going to touch me. I've got a ship contract. You're prettier today, know that?" I set her down and leaned to whisper in her ear, arching back my shoulder blades to keep Kudri's food tray balanced. "You don't shed in bed, do you?" I could see the blush even through her fur.
           "Suhk! You don't act like someone with a mate. And, no, of course I don't. Lla'suh brushes my old hairs out before we go to bed." Terue picked up her Aarn'fos and pretended to go back to work, but her ears said that she wasn't completely focused. "You do know the best time to groom a Hrasi, don't you? They teach all the slaves that, don't they?" I chuckled.
           "I wish I was Lla'suh. No, I have no idea what time to brush a Hrasi. And for the last time, I'm not a slave." She grinned with her ears.
           "In the bath, of course, when the [follicles?] are loose. You have to wait until she dries before you rub in the oil though, or it'll slide right off. You'd better remember that," she teased, "when Kudri has you sold into slavery for being late and I buy you all for myself. If you forget I'll have to punish you, and we wouldn't want that."
           "We wouldn't?" She shook with chuffed laughter again.
           "Get out of here and go [deliver? / serve?] the food. You're such a fool, Suhk, always forgetting to." I stepped back and bowed, rolling the platter of food onto my back to keep it perfectly level, then spiriting it into my hands and whisking away. There was a room full of chuffing and even some applause at my back.
           As I pushed through the kitchen doors I noticed an odd smell. It was coming from a closed urn in the platter's center, which had rice and meat set in rays around it. I swerved and ducked through the magnificent hallway, which entered into the even more astonishing banquet room. When no one was looking I rolled the urn's top off to peek inside, then tried very hard not to throw up. There were little one-inch cubes of flesh quivering on a bed of fruits, each with various shades of skin standing out proudly: pink, beige, tanned brown, and our people's dark chocolate almost-black. Mmm… it was human.
           Naia had gotten us aboard the Endearing Spirit, a luxury liner that took spoiled station officials to their fellow stations and colonies. This one was our second to last ship, and was going to take us to Takhar, an inner system with orbiting station. This time I was Suhk Aitshi, an indentured servant working his way to his mistress on Haras and her slave, who was supposed to be my mate. Naia seemed to have a knack for coming up with convoluted stories that somehow other Hrasi found plausible. To me it sounded like bullshit, and it was annoying as hell having to wave off lonely human men who wanted a 'bond-partner'. I swore the next time somebody propositioned me I'd break him in half.
           Regardless of the number of times I entered the banquet room I still had to breath in and give it a look: it was that good. The ceiling stood two stories up - totally unsafe and irresponsible, mind you - and was just covered with murals of ancient events. The walls were artificial sheet stone gilded with gold, encrusted with precious jewels, and covered with priceless art, but the most amazing part was the huge wooden floor. Not fake wood, not even lab-grown wood, but real, really real wood. There were ten tables that could hold twenty people each set up around a huge dance floor in front of a stage with real live musicians. Everything was done up with wood. Did I mention that the wood was real? In the lunar shipyards that room's wood alone would bought another ship of the same type, much less all of the precious stones and metals.
           "So they flew in circles, trying to get behind us. The fools didn't even notice the [ ] shooting at them until it was too late," I heard an older graying Hrasi say at the nearest table. He was dressed in military garb well adorned with metals: probably a general or an admiral. "We blew their carrier apart, then [swept away?] their ships! I tell you, these humans cannot fight on their feet. They have much technology, but that it all."
           "Ah, the first course has arrived!" My own personal terror was sitting at the head of the table: Naia in that damned white silk dress some gentleman had given her. In exchange for what, you ask? I ask too, and I'm pretty sure that I'll never know. Whenever she saw me she made life harder for me in her little teasing way. She'd torment me, asking the servant for more wine, or to serve her personally, or to replace the napkin laid out across her lap. The latter always got a laugh from around the table at my forced impropriety and then punishment from my superiors later.
           Unwillingly but having no choice I brought the food tray to Naia and set it on a free spot at the table. She proffered her plate and I took it, serving her some human as was expected of me. When she saw it she winced and looked up at me as if to say 'god, that's disgusting'. But even that didn't satisfy her, sadist that she was being. "Oh, General Gharahg, you can tell a good [tale?]. But I don't think that the humans are all that stupid. Waiter, you heard the General, did you not? What do you think?" Bitch. I gulped.
           "Ah, well miss, I'm sure the General was… correct. I really couldn't say." She wouldn't let me off so easily.
           "[Now, now?] waiter, you've been better [trained?] than that. Tell us all what you would've done. No one is going to [report?] anything you say." The other Hrasi perked ears and leaned forward, including the General, who seemed unduly interested. I sighed. How was I supposed to present acceptable military strategy while playing someone who knew nothing about it?
           "Well, miss… The carrier captain must have been a fool to try and 'get behind' anything. They move too slowly. I would've turned it to fire on the enemy while my pilots protected me. That way I couldn't have been drawn into anything."
           "[ ]!" the general chuffed, "and this from a waiter! My [dear?] servant, they were ambushed by my strike cruisers. No mere pilots could protect from them. You are indeed correct that the human captain was a fool, though."
           "My pilots would've cut your cheap cruiser frames into little pieces. ICA pilots are better and more loyal than the royal army's, and ICA fighters have fusion bombs that can take out carriers," I snapped. "I'd put a griffin squadron against a Hrasi cruiser any day." Then I realized what I'd just said. Ears went down around the table; even Naia cringed. Wonderful, I'd just gotten myself killed.
           The general stared at me intensely. He knew I was a military, he had to. No waiter knew what a fusion bomb was. Of course, this had to happen at the worst possible time: within five minutes of conversion. Me and my big goddamned mouth always getting into trouble…
           "Now you're no [ordinary?] waiter, are you?" Naia asked, confusing the hell out of me. Only after a minute did I realize that she'd have to make sure we were not connected in any way. "You weren't born [among?] Hrasi, were you?" Oh. I saw where she was going. Smart girl: I would've hugged her if it hadn't been her fault in the first place.
           "No ma'am. I was a pilot, ma'am." Naia nodded, then turned to the others.
           "That explains it. You can't expect a [ ] human to always be [ ] all the time." Everyone laughed and a stunning young woman in scarlet held up a claw.
           "Oh, but you really can't. I bought a [ ] for my son, a younger woman, and she actually tried to kill him. Can you believe that?"
           "Oh yes," the general agreed, "I most certainly can. They're [ ] and evil." He afforded me one more glance. "Waiter, how long ago were you a pilot?" Great, now I had to remember when we first had griffins. "One. One year, sir." He gave me a toothy smile.
           "Ah, a [prototype? / test?] pilot. You may go." Go? Hell, I flew back to the kitchen. Terue now had a small bowl of Aarn'fos flesh, which sort of resembles tuna in color and texture, on the counter next to her. At my hurried walk and labored breath she held out a hand, beckoning me over to her.
           "Something wrong?" She asked with a 'hello' ear flick. I leaned heavily next to her. My knuckles were white as I held to the counter, steadying myself. "Something is wrong, isn't it?" she repeated, still concentrating fully on her task. A great thing about the Hrasi is that they can talk to you with only their ears. Vocals are great, but ultimately the ears tell all. Terue was no exception; she had her back turned to me, but that hardly mattered. It was obvious that she was concerned.
           "I'm scared to death." That made her stop what she was doing, turn around, and fix me with an alarmed stare.
           "Scared for your life? Of what?"
           "I… a woman out there at one of tables asked me to argue with a general, and he looked at me like he knew me. I can't go out there. He'll hurt me if he catches me there again. I know it." I stood quivering, totally unsure of what I was going to do. "I can't stay in here; Kudri'll chase me out. What now?" Terue gave me a judging look, then casually knocked her meat bowl off the counter, followed by an opened can of thick brown Ohmu sauce that splattered the floor.
           "You [imbecile?]!" She berated me at the top of her lungs, "Why'd you do that? Now I'm going to have to start all over again! Clean that up now or I'll gut you this time!" I picked a rag from the cloth rack above us and sank to my knees.
           "Thanks, Terue."
           "Don't think of it."
          

---v---

           "You're a worthless servant, Suhk. Anything you might have done was [nullified?] by the damage you caused. If you hadn't ruined Turue's aarn'fos I would have been able to make the [ ]. There's no point in paying you." Kudri glared at me, hissing forcefully. "Why am I not flogging you?" He growled. I sat there and smiled, not saying anything. "Alright, get out! If you screw up tomorrow I'll have you sold at the on-ship auction. You know I'm serious."
           I shrugged past him with a swagger that was pure Hrasi. Swearing to kill him, or better yet even doing it, was very enticing. Attacking a Hrasi would have been something like hanging myself, however, and threatening one would be like selling myself. There wasn't much I could do to him unless I was willing to break the Suhk façade, something I was loath to do. When I rounded the refrigerators I saw Terue leaning against the door. She didn't usually wait around for me, but there wasn't anyone else I saw that she could've been waiting for.
           "Suhk, I was worried. Are you going to be alright?" I nodded glumly.
           "Yeah, I'll be alright. I just have to get to Takhar, that's all. The conversion point there is only two days away. He can't put me to auction by then." We fell into step together as we pushed our way through the doors and to the cabin section.
           "Actually, he can. I'm not sure I would be able to buy you either, and even if I did you wouldn't be able to leave the ship and find your wife."
           "If he did I'd kill him." Terue looked at me sharply, ears back, and snarled.
           "Don't say those things! You know what'd happen if I told anyone or if anyone overheard. Just because I'm friendly doesn't mean that you can threaten other people. You're a human, not a Hrasi. Maybe your mistress lets act however you [wish?]; that's fine, but out here you [behave?] like a [proper?] human should. They'll hurt you if you don't, hear?"
           "I hear," I whispered, falling a single step behind her. Well, there went another possible recruit. And I'd thought she was reasonable.
           "Don't be like that," she whined, "You don't have to be [ ]; we're friends. Just don't pretend to be one of us." I had no reply. "Don't tell me you're [offended?]? What kind of servant are you?" That hurt. Really, it did, and I brushed past her for it, determined to get past her. "Hey!" She yelled, jogging up to my side and grabbing my arm. I was pulled aside before I could shake her off, then she pinned me to the wall in a corner where no else was around. "Okay, that was [low?]. I'm sorry - I didn't mean it like that. I like you, but it's just that there are people who won't let you be so friendly. If that becomes a [habit?] for you you'll get hurt."
           "I can take care of myself, Terue."
           "No," she implored, "You can't. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Act like a human so no one will bother you. Please: I don't want you to get hurt!" She stood unsteadily; what had been pinning turned into just leaning on me. "Come on, Suhk, let me [show?] you my husband. I'll make you two dinner. You need to keep [out of sight?]."
           "Oh, you'll actually let a human into your room?" I said a bit sorely, "Let him eat your food? How nice of you!"
           "Hey, it's more than what's [culturally?] appropriate and you're attacking me for trying." She pushed off me and stepped back. "You can come with me or [decline?]."
           "Let's go…" I mumbled, still a bit resentful. Ignorant Hrasi attitudes have always pissed me off. I know she meant well, but she'd grown too attached to the idea of humans as slaves to become an ally. "So, your husband?"
           "Lla'suh. He's a navigator. We were [married?] three years ago. You'll like him."
           "I thought you were single… you must not have children." She chuffed.
           "We're trying. You?"
           "Same."
           "You must have a [rich?] mistress," Terue commented with her questioning smile, "to have [bought?] you a [permit?] to [ ]. They're expensive."
           "Are they? I wouldn't know."
           We walked down the tourist hall and through a service corridor that had a ladder from which we were able to climb up to the passenger level. The entire ship was cool and windless: twilight configuration. The bars and casino on the passenger deck would still be blaring bright and strong, as would the bridge lights, but everything else dimmed. Low light makes me drowsy, and it probably didn't help that I'd just done a long shift of work. While we walked through the forward cabin column I watched Terue and idly wondered if she'd let me stay in her cabin. Likely not, and moreover she'd probably go nuts at such a request.
           "We're in room 223," Terue announced when we got to the second column. More walking through grey halls until the 223 door finally showed to my right a few minutes later. "In here," she ordered me, so I went. She rushed ahead of me. "Love, I'm here, and I've brought a human with me!" A dark brown Hrasi man enveloped her, holding her tight.
           "Did you? Is it to eat?" A deep liquid voice asked her. From inside a furry embrace Terue chuffed.
           "No, he's a waiter. I brought him to have to dinner with us, and maybe [ ]. If you don't [mind?], that is." The man inside hesitated. Odd: Until hearing 'husband' I'd assumed that Lla'suh was a woman. I guess I'd finally adjusted to Hrasi society.
           "Of course," Lla'suh decided a minute later. "I'd never [turn away?] one of your friends. Come in, both of you." We both did, walking through. "Let me turn the lights on for him."
           Light green-white color flooded the room. Lla'suh moved out of the way so that Terue and I could make our way into the room. They kept a beautiful home: everything was neat and orderly. A single two-person bed rested up against the wall next to a large set of cabinets. Across the room another doorway opened up into a small bathroom. Bowls hung suspended from the ceiling in nets everywhere, filled with various items. Some near an alcove were filled with aromatic herbs, others with vegetables, and more with fruits. An indoor kitchen, then.
           "Good to see you," Terue told him, and she leaned up to rub cheeks with him. Both purred in marital bliss. "We'll make you dinner, love, just give us an hour. What would you like?"
           "How about some jhesa steaks?" Lla'suh asked, and Terue nodded.
           "I can do that, no problem," Terue promised, "I'll make us something you'll [enjoy?]." I stood back unsteadily, waiting and trying not to do anything that would offend them. Lla'suh smiled appreciatively and jumped onto the bed to curl at its head. Apparently the Hrasi males were pretty lazy. I could only imagine the havoc a pair of Hrasi bachelors together could cause.
           Terue took me by the hand and pulled me into the 'alcove'; really it was a doorway to a small kitchen. "Jhesa. Jhesa, jhesa, jhesa. Alright. Hrn, I'm glad you're here, Suhk; now I can finally cook over [open?] flame!"
           "So that's why you took me here," I said slyly, and she bobbed her head.
           "That's right. You want to [chop?] some ghasar for me?" The vegetable in question was one of those big yellow squashes. A whole basket of them were suspended from the ceiling; I picked out two and tossed them on the counter. Under the counter I saw Terue messing with some pots and pans. I knocked on it and she looked up. "What, you want a knife? There's one in the drawer next to you." I picked it out from the drawer and started on the ghasar.
           "So what am I going to have to do?" I asked her. She brought a deep bowl up to the counter and set it there, then tossed in a garlic-scented tuber. A small refrigerator was inset into the floor near the door; Terue dug into it and pulled out three white meat slabs that she put on a grilling grate and set atop the bowl.
           "Light the eshish root and turn the Jhesa over every minute. I have a [match? / lighter?] for you to use." She pulled open a drawer, then threw me a lighter. "I'll be making the [ ]."
           "Sure…" I sparked the lighter and cast a few embers into the bowl, immediately flaring up a big response. Startled, Terue jumped back, and I snickered at her. Having oiled fur was a decent reason to flinch at fire, but not to that extent. Above the bowl the jhesa was crackling and snapping. It looked like fish filet. When it began fizzling I darted a hand into the flame and flipped each slab over to reveal a beautiful brown outer crust on the bottom. Out of curiosity I asked Terue was jhesa was.
           "It's a large animal that we [hunt?] on the plains. Tastes bitter. I think you'll like it," she said. "If you like sour foods, that is." I shrugged and kept turning the meat.
           For twenty minutes I burned my hands with jhesa while Terue mixed dough for something and popped it into the oven. Obviously the master chef was ecstatic to have her very own assistant. After cooking the meat I got to wash vegetables, carve fruit, and slice crispy meat. What fun that was… at least it didn't involve me being burned any further.
           As the entrees came out so did the plates and the garnishes. Blue crystal plates and red saucers complimented her already beautiful food. The jhesa came in slips of juicy white flesh, browned and crisped on the edges, lying on a bed of eshish root. What had been dough was now twenty or thirty triangular pastries, each lightly brushed with honey before being set in a circle around a wine bottle. A vegetable platter glazed in a sweet brown sauce, fruit mixed with another pink meat, and simple enough bread ended out the meal. Who would've thought that giant cats could be so omnivorous? I wondered if they had vegetarians.
           "We're done?" I breathed, exhausted from a bout of lifting all of Terue's cooking stuff so that she could get at the cutlery.
           "We're done," she affirmed, "all we need to do is take the food out." So we began walking out of the kitchen laden with plates. In the corner of their cabin was a small table at less than knee height, and there weren't any chairs: just pillows. We knelt at the table, then. "Hai, Lla'suh, dinner's ready!" Terue yelled at her mate, who was still curled up at the bed's edge. He slowly stretched out and yawned pearly fangs.
           "What's this? Dinner? Ah, [ ], you are too [ ]." Terue chuffed and dodged back into the kitchen to return with the rest of the meal.
           "I know I am. Come, sit. I want to hear about your [day?]." I was motioned into the corner spot and they took positions on either side of me, plainly entwining their legs under the table.
           "Hrn, just more the [same?]. Lots of nothing out there. The captain still thinks we can [shortcut? / cut time?] by going through the [some navigational hazard?]. I still say we'd die."
           "Are we going to it?" Lla'suh shrugged.
           "Probably. He doesn't like me so much."
           Both Hrasi exchanged small talk and I kept my head down, trying to stay out of trouble. Terue was taking small helpings of food, humbly choosing the smallest and worst parts of everything. Lla'suh did the opposite, helping himself to more than I thought he could eat in two or three sittings. Unsure of what was appropriate, I made sure not to take any more than Terue did. Taking more than I was entitled to might have had… undesirable results.
           The dough was sweet and the fruit succulent, but I was curious about the jhesa. I helped myself to a few slices and cut them into small squares that I could eat. Kind of metallic was my first impression, like eating something really acidic. Each additional bite was more so than the last, and eventually my tongue numbed up. It was good, but really kind of bitter for meat.
           Terue was laughing at something with her light chuffs. At what was another question. The shapes in the room began to blur, the lights distorting and dimming the room. Across the table Lla'suh snarled at me, baring a maw of jagged teeth. Did I do something wrong? I pushed back and tried to jump away, but the legs weren't there, and I fell back. Oh, damn, I thought, this is the end. Terue leapt upon me and I couldn't struggle. She too hissed and spit, but I couldn't understand. Everything was going gray…
          

---v---

           My left arm hurt like hell. When I opened my eyes there was nothing discernible above me; I was lying flat somewhere. Everything was quiet, unnaturally so. Starships really, really shouldn't be that quiet. Had something bad happened?
           I slowly moved my right hand over my body to where my arm hurt. There was some kind of needle connected to a tube there that I pulled from my arm and allowed to drop. Maybe it had been keeping me alive, but I wasn't going to lie there forever. Without any further ado I sat up and folded my legs. My original clothing was still on, thank god. I rolled to my right to see if I was on a bed and sure enough I fell on the floor. All hail my deductive skills.
           So this was what it felt like to be blind… I touched my way past several beds and to a wall that I followed to a depression. A doorway, perhaps? I wasn't sure, but I found a crack that I could fit my fingers into and pull on. At first nothing happened, but I persisted and was rewarded with a tiny glimmer of light that enlarged into a fully opened doorway.
           Red blood soaked a carpeted hallway awash in more red from the emergency lights. I got to my feet and walked through, looking for bodies that could have provided the blood. Six feet down to the left there were sparks blistering down from a ceiling conduit that lit up a blackened lump. I kicked it over to see uniformed Lla'suh's tormented face. He still clutched at a silver gun, but a square foot had been burned from his torso. I ripped the gun from his grasp and recharged the firing chamber. There were still four or five good shots left. Clueless as to the ship's layout, I took a guess as to where to go and headed farther left.
           Terue was another twenty feet down. She'd been carved up blossom-like, organs sort of spread out around her. And I'd just begun to like her, too. God, to be so callous towards death… There weren't any weapons on her, of course - she was a cook. Too bad about her, I thought, but she wouldn't be the last person to die. If the war kept going, she really wouldn't be.
           As I looked up I saw something written in blood on the wall. There were two lines: one in Hrasi and one in human. The top's Hrasi symbols were totally indecipherable to me, but I could read English just fine. 'For Freedom - Yusuura'.
           Nothing could've stopped me so well. The Yusuurans that I'd fought for had done this? The same people my friends willingly worked for? The same people as the ones who had Amara? What the hell was I doing? No time for thought, I reminded myself, and continued down the hallway.
           Plainly a fight had taken place at the hallway's end, which had corpses opened up all over the floor. Four out of five were the crew's, but the other was always a nondescript man in common civilian clothes. There were three more usable clips for the gun, but that was all. I stepped past the carnage and down another hall that had open elevator doors. Not terribly 'with it' at the time, I got into the elevator car and touched the crew quarters deck button. There had to be someone there.
           Stupid me. The car jolted once, then plunged downward. I yelled in terror for five seconds, then was thrown to the ceiling and back down to the floor like a ping pong ball. Thank the gods for emergency braking in elevator shafts.
           On cue the doors opened, amazingly enough. Even more amazing was that there was air on the other side of the lock. Crates and robotics hung from the ceiling in the Endearing Spirit's spacious cargo bay. Even a luxury ship had to carry something. The simple thruth is that things are more important than people are, especially in times of war.
           Reacting to my relatively loud entrance, a collection of six Hrasi soldiers turned around. Royal soldiers - they were setting the Freedom Coalition up! Naia was between them, unbound and still in her white dress. At first sight of me she lunged into the guard on her left and tackled him. All the other guards seemed surprised, if anything. Each pulled out normal projectile firearm and fired wildly at me, but their bullets slowed down the moment they got out of the barrel.
           Allow me to explain. It is very, very, very lethal and stupid to have loose objects on high-speed aircraft, no? Imagine how nasty it gets when something sharp is sent flying as a starship goes into some large fraction of light speed. This sort of thing still happens, and yes, you get the results you might expect: breached hulls, dead crews, and overall badness. To combat this human scientists developed velocity-inhibiting fields that actually limit the speed of anything inside them to a preset value. In the cargo bay the velocity limit was maybe half of freefall, so I easily dodged the bullets those fools with projectiles were shooting at me.
           In return I shot back at the soldiers with Lla'suh's energy weapon. It was much more effective. Essentially mass-free energy bolts flew out at them and sent the three Naia wasn't attacking sailing through the bay engulfed in flames. I bolted towards Naia, who had since lost the initiative and was being beaten into submission. "Hyaa!" I cried maniacally, charging with gun extended, and shot one of the soldiers as he flew backward from a kick. Another twisted away from Naia at the anguished howl of his comrade and I shot him too.
           "Shoot me and the woman dies!" The last soldier snarled, spinning behind her and picking her up. Underestimating Naia was a bad idea, though: she clawed him in the groin with a kick and winded him with a backward elbow to the chest. Naia jumped away from him even as he fell and I shot the last of them. With that the gun powered down, exhausted, and I carefully reloaded the chamber.
           "Aaron!" Naia yelled distraughtly, "Aaron, you're not dead!" Then she picked her ears up and tried to regain some composure, switching to English. "I mean, that's wonderful, but how?" I responded in kind.
           "I'm not sure. I was with a friend and her husband, and we made dinner together. I had something called jhesa and then -"
           "You didn't!" Naia exclaimed, ears drooping and face muscles tightening concernedly. "Dammit Aaron, I told you not to. You're lucky it didn't kill you outright!" I shrugged.
           "Anyway, I wake up in a medical bay, go outside to see everything very bloody, and then fall down an elevator shaft." Naia looked side to side, nervous, and was a moment in answering.
           "Oh… Well, I couldn't have asked for better timing. I'm sure I wouldn't have liked what they had in store for me."
           "Naia, these people… are Yusuurans. Our Yusuurans."
           "No they're not. They're pirates pretending to be Yusuurans . This is all part of the Haigh's plotting, trust me. We'd better find a way out of here soon." I looked around.
           "Escape pods? Or does this ship carry fighters?" Naia nodded at a small, blocky excuse for a fighter in the corner.
           "There's a diplomatic transport. It should be able to take us to Takhar before running out of fuel. If we hurry we can escape into the asteroid field before they finish undocking." Naia stared at me expectantly, as though I was going to do something. "Well, you're a pilot, aren't you?"
           "Yeah," I complained, "but they'll send fighters to chase us."
           "Like I said: you're a pilot, aren't you?"
          

---v---

           That damned Naia. She always knew exactly what would hurt the most, and invariably chose it. I'd thought being a waiter sucked? Hah. The last leg of the trip had me begging to go and wait tables by the second hour.
           Now I was locked in some damned floor compartment. We'd found passage on Ahn-Kuhn #12, an industrial ore freighter that was so ubiquitous among Hrasi shipping lanes that it didn't even get its own name. Perhaps it would be better to say that Naia had found passage for herself. I'd been thrown into the shadows during cargo loading and told to stay out of the crew's sight. The only way to do that was to hide in the floors where there weren't any cameras.
           I banged my head on my 'ceiling'. I was cramped into the small space between the hauler's power core and the power distribution grid; there wasn't even room for me to rub at the lump swelling on my head. It wasn't fair that I had to be smuggled. I always got the short end of the stick.
           I'd been asleep for hours now. Something had woken me up: a sound. I listened to the noises the ship was making, curious as to what had roused me. There was nothing but the clatter of feet from up above, the hum of the power core, and the howling of dust on the hull.
           Abruptly the bulk plate above my leg ripped off and a furry white head poked down into my crotch upside-down.
           "You okay Aaron? I heard a clang…"
           "I'm fine, Naia," I growled, "I just bumped my head." She looked at me sympathetically, then reached in an arm to rub my face blindly.
           "I'm sorry," she pouted. I snorted.
           "Sorry. I'm stuck between a nuclear fission drive that's probably irradiating me enough to leave me sterile and cancerous and a power grid whose discharge could easily fry me. You're sorry? I'll be lucky if I survive, while you get to mingle with generals and eat gourmet feasts and-"
           Naia slammed the bulk plate back into place, leaving curses to bounce off the walls of my private little cell. "Damn Hrasi bastards…" Another few days and the room was going to start to smell. "Hey! Let me out of here! I need out, damn you!" The plate lifted a few inches.
           "Hey, don't yell. You'll attract too much attention. I'll let you out tomorrow, alright?" I tensed up, whispering so I could try to contain my rage.
           "You've left me in here for three days now!"
           "Sorry." The plate dropped back down with finality. I sighed and tried to curl back up. At least the fission plant kept things warm, I guess.
          

---v---

           Fast-forward a day. I was hallucinating, imagining sounds and light, imagining that the fission plant was overloading, imagining we were under attack. When there was rapping above my head I flinched and pulled back, hearing instead gunfire.
           "Anyone there?" A cautious feminine voice whispered.
           "Get me outta here," I moaned, really not even caring if it wasn't Naia. Just so long as I could get a breath of air. Nothing happened for long enough to make me despair that I'd been dreaming again, but then the plate under my legs drew up.
           "It's me," Naia hissed softly, "We're in the Hharras system now. That conversion we just went through was our last. You feel okay?"
           "I feel sick… You can't just stuff me in a damn box for three days and throw me through eight conversions like that. I've seen you guys go through conversions before; it doesn't mess you up like it does with me… ugh, I need food. And water. And a shower, and a toilet, and new clothes…" Naia coughed and growled disgustedly.
           "You soiled yourself? I thought you were an adult," she coughed.
           "I've been down here for four damned days and I can't move! Not that you cared to listen when I mentioned it repeatedly."
           "I'll get you some new… oh, what the hell, I'll just take you back to my quarters." She pulled me by the legs, brought me up out of the recess in the floor. I got my first look at myself in days; it was a pretty nasty sight. "Follow me," Naia hissed in disgust, turning her nostrils away and beckoning me out of the engineering bay.
           The halls were clear as the two of us stole down the main corridor, up to the habitation deck, and down to the farthest passenger cabin at the end of the hall. Not a single Hrasi showed, for some reason, nor were there cameras. Naia locked the two of us inside. She quickly shooed me into the cabin's single shower / sink unit, and left me to my own devices.
           I stripped my clothes off in the showering room and threw them into the disposal chute. Hot water sprayed from the showerhead and I just stood in it, washing away three days of filth. It felt good. Soap dispensers lined the walls: I got entire handfuls of soap to run through my hair and over my body. Lots and lots of soap, rubbing away grime and dirt and sludge until there was nothing to wash off but old skin, which I happily sloughed away as well. By the time the soap had cleaned away I was half-conscious, struggling to simply keep my chin up enough that the water rinsed through my hair.
           It was a very few seconds after the hot water ran out that I jumped out of the shower, wide-awake and freezing. I pounded open the washroom door and sort of danced out into the cabin with my naked self all exposed. Naia chuffed at my discomfort as I winced. Oops. There went modesty.
           "Don't laugh," I growled, teeth chattering from the cold, "It's not funny that I'm freezing, or that you're a pervert that won't give me a damned towel." Such words only served to further amuse her.
           "Here's your towel," Naia called, pulling one from under her bed and throwing it to me. I picked it out of the air, wrapped the towel around my waist, and crossed over to her cabin window to stare out at the stars. For a spacer, three days without stars is forever. Naia came up behind me and laid a paw on my bare shoulder. She was warm and soft-furred; I could feel that she'd trimmed her claws razor-sharp, but they didn't press hard enough to cut.
           "So, this is the famed home system of the vile Hrasi?" I asked her softly.
           "This is it. The sun is Hharras, or 'guardian', and its eleven planets are its charges. The habitable one, Haras, is our homeworld, the place from which we draw our name. Hrasi: 'those of Haras'. It's also were we're going."
           "That I guessed," I murmured. "What will we find once we're there?" She patted me and wrapped her tail about my leg.
           "Help. I know some of my father's old friends. And if all else fails, you could easily pass off as any number of humans…" Oh, wonderful. That did a lot to reassure me. Killing innocent people has never been a favorite pastime of mine…
           "I hope so. I really do hope so, Naia. We should've met back with Amara weeks ago, and this is not helping matters. We shouldn't be here, it's too dangerous by far." Naia pulled me back to gaze at me critically.
           "You know of another place where we can find any sort of political help? Only in the lap of civilization, the one philosophical hotbed where there are people besides the militant conservatives, my friend. Like it or not, this is where we're safest." I gulped.
           "That's the problem. This is the last place I want to be." She shook her head and hugged me.
           "Then you're smarter than you know," she coughed, perhaps a bit sadly.
           "What's that supposed to mean?" Now she sighed.
           "It means… It means get some clothes on. We're landing soon."
          
           End Part 9