ALYVOS

As I carry my light, fragile burden onto the Fool, I notice things about Iris.

I notice she’s a little too thin compared to Fran or Cat, because I can see her ribs through the tatters of her clothing, and her collarbones are so prominent they look painful. I notice she’s covered in caked filth and her hair is matted and should probably be cut from her scalp it’s so badly snarled. I notice the deep scars where her eyes once were have been cauterized, and in a rather haphazard fashion. Given that every ship is equipped with medical supplies and surgical machinery, it’s clear that this was just another form of torture by her captors. I notice she sits with perfect, utter stillness, expression bland, her hands clasped against her waist as if this is an everyday pleasant sort of jaunt instead of a rescue.

I notice she has the cutest, tiniest little nose and a dusky-colored mouth that I can’t stop staring at. I know I shouldn’t, because she’s been badly used, but I’m already feeling incredibly possessive towards her.

And angry. I’m so keffing angry right now. Not at her—but at the szzt that held her, and the conditions she’s been kept in for so long. I’m angry that she’s been hurt and tortured and she’s covered in her own filth and yet…she has the mildest demeanor ever, as if none of this bothers her in the slightest.

I’m angry that she’s not angry.

But maybe she’s in shock. That, I could understand. The hysterics will come later, when she’s safe.

Carefully, I take her through the narrow halls of the szzt junker. I move slowly because I don’t want to jostle her trembling form, or knock her feet against a wall that she can’t see. She deserves so much better than she’s been given, and I vow she’ll never have reason to fear me. Once I know that she’s safe in med-bay, I’m going to return to this keffing ship and finish the job that I should have done before. I’m going to make sure those aliens never harm another human for as long as I live.

Just the thought fills me with an almost unholy anticipation. Soon.

I take her through the docking tunnel connecting the ships, and the moment the air changes, I can feel her stiffen. Her head lifts a little and she looks less relaxed, a bit warier. “I’m taking you to our ship. You’re safe. It’s called The Lovesick Fool because a nice, silly name doesn’t make people think of pirates.”

She nods, and I wish she’d say more, but she doesn’t. It’s disappointing. I want to know what’s going on in that head of hers, what she’s thinking. I’m hungry to hear her thoughts in a way that I’ve never been with another female before.

Something deep inside me instinctually recognizes her as mine. I’ve heard other mesakkah talk about it. How when they meet their female, they just know in their gut that she’s the one. That the connection is lightning fast and soul-wrenchingly deep. Always thought that was garbage until now.

Now, I think I’d dismember the next person that tries to lay hands on her.

It’s not romantic. Not yet. She’s too fragile, too wounded. But that’s all right. I can wait, now that I’ve got something to live for. I’ve always had something to fight for, but this is different.

Everything’s different.

“Iris,” I murmur, because I want to feel her name on my tongue, and I want to see how she responds to it. “You’re going to stay on my ship for a while. Well, it’s not my ship. I’m not the captain. I’m the muscle. But I’ll make sure nobody messes with you. The rest of the crew are good guys. They’re mated, too. They have females, so you don’t have to worry about them. Well, except for Sentorr, but he wouldn’t touch you. I don’t think he’s ever looked in a female’s direction twice. When he falls for a female, it’s going to hit him completely by surprise, I think.” Kef me, I’m babbling like an idiot.

She just sits in my arms so calmly, her head slightly cocked to indicate she’s listening to me.

I grit my teeth at that serene silence. “You can say something, you know.”

Iris licks her lips, as if trying to think of what to say. I’m fascinated by that small flash of pink tongue until she speaks up. “Thank you, Alvos.” Then I’m fascinated by the gentle, rolling sound of her voice.

“You don’t have to thank me for saving you.” When she’s silent again, I bite back a sigh of frustration. “I’d like for you to speak up, please, Iris. I don’t want you to be afraid to talk around me.”

She hesitates, then nods. “All right. I’ll try to speak. I’m sorry.”

I growl low. “Or apologize. Don’t keffing do that either.”

Her brow wrinkles and she turns her head in my direction. “Kef-fing?”

I can feel my ears get hot. “Not a human word. Sorry about that. It’s, uh, cursing.”

“I see.”

She’s still so bland. I know there has to be fire inside her. She went through hell and back. I just need to be patient and figure out how to coax it out.

I step into the Fool and immediately, the air quality improves. I take a deep lungful with appreciation and continue on towards med-bay with my burden tucked in my arms. “We’re going to meet Tarekh in med-bay,” I tell her as I continue on. “He’s going to look at your wounds and make sure everything’s all right. We’ll get you patched up.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll be in good hands with him.”

I can feel the tension slide over her and she bites down on that dusky pink lip of hers. She swallows, and I’m fascinated by even the tiniest of movements she makes. When was the last time I noticed how anyone swallowed? Kef me, I’ve got it bad.

“You’re leaving me?”

Her voice is utterly calm, but I can feel the tremor that moves through her.

I’m torn. I want to hurt those szzt again, so badly I can taste it. More than that, I want them to know why I’ve come back to give them another round of pain. I want to see the spark of life die from their eyes. But Iris is holding herself tense now. Even if she doesn’t say it, she wants me to stay at her side. Because I’m already feeling possessive and protective of her, I can’t help but change my plans. “I’ll stay with you.”

She nods, but I can feel some of the tension ease from her.

The door to med-bay opens and Fran comes out, snapping an ammo cartridge into a darkmatter blaster. “Oh, Alyvos. You—” She blanches at the sight of Iris’s ruined face and staggers backward. “Oh my god.”

I shift my weight, holding Iris tighter against me, as if I could somehow protect her from the look Fran is giving her. It’s one of pity and horror, and I recognize that expression. It’s one I saw for so many years. People would ask me about the war. I’d tell them where I served, and then that look would come across their face.

I hate that look. I glare at Fran. “This is Iris,” I tell her, my tone deadly. “She’s staying with us for a while.”

Fran regroups, giving herself a little shake. “Of course.” She switches to English. “No one told me there was another human coming on board. Are there more?” She glances behind me and lowers her gun to her side but doesn’t holster it. “Where’s Kiv?”

“Still on the junker, taking care of business.”

“Alone? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her voice goes sharp and she lets out an irritated breath. I can tell that her attention goes from the wounded female in my arms to focus on her mate. She gives her head a little shake and pushes past me. “I’m going after that man. I swear he’s going to be the death of me. Nice to meet you, Iris, but I have to go give my mate backup.”

I want to point out that we wouldn’t have left Kivian alone on board if there was a hint of danger, but it’s also probably a good idea for Fran to join him anyhow, just in case. Besides, the captain’ll appreciate the sight of his small human mate brandishing a blaster and covering his backside. I watch her go and glance at Iris’s face to see her expression. She’s gone back to blandness again, her hands clasped tight in front of her.

“We’re going into the med-bay now,” I tell her. “Tarekh’s probably going to be there with his mate, Cat. If she makes you feel uncomfortable, you let me know and I’ll make her leave.”

Something flickers over Iris’s face. Surprise. “You would?”

“I would,” I tell her solemnly. “You just say the word.”

“Okay,” Iris says softly. “Is it…that bad?” One trembling, filthy hand goes to her face and hovers at her cheekbone, as if she’s afraid to touch the badly sealed wounds herself.

“It’s fine,” I say abruptly. Because what can I say? Her eyes were gouged out by males who acted like animals and cruelly cauterized, ruining the chance of regenerative tissue being reattached later on. They deliberately marred her beauty. They wanted to break her. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, because I can’t not. In my eyes, she is. I see beyond the ugly marks and the harm they’ve done to her.

Her mouth curves faintly. “Are you blind, too, Alvos?”

My heart skips a beat at that smile. For that, I’d do anything. For her, I’d move asteroids and fly through black holes, unafraid.

I’m hers in that moment. Completely and utterly hers.

* * *

If Cat’s startled by Iris’s appearance, she doesn’t show it. She’s snuggled up in a blanket on Tarekh’s lap and remains in his chair even after the big male gets up to run medical scans on Iris. Tarekh isn’t surprised to see her, which tells me that Kiv probably sent him a private message while I carried her back to warn him that we were incoming. Neither one is chatty like their usual selves. Cat’s normally sly and loves to tease Tarekh, and the big male is usually full of laughter and easygoing. Today they’re both silent, and I imagine Cat’s going to struggle with what she experienced for a while.

It’s just a reminder to me that Iris needs time. I’ll give her all the time she wants, then. If it makes her feel safer to remain silent and calm, she can do that.

Tarekh examines Iris, and I watch her vitals as intensely as he does, maybe more so. She’s malnourished, vitamin deficient, and dehydrated. I’m not surprised, given the conditions we found her in. Her body’s fighting off an infection, and the long, ugly wound in her thigh needs stitching. She’s missing the tip of one finger, one toe, and another toe has been broken. Her muscles are extremely weak and she’ll have to spend time each day in med-bay while the computers run her through a few physical therapy machines, but it doesn’t look like there’s anything fatal. Tarekh gives that prognosis and I breathe out a sigh of relief, which makes my buddy give me an odd look, his tail twitching.

I don’t explain myself. I don’t have to. I’m sure he can guess how I’m feeling.

“You need a bit of fixing up, but nothing that a good meal and some nutrient injections won’t cure. As for your eyes…” He hesitates.

“I know,” Iris says. “They’re gone. I can’t see anything.”

Tarekh raises the scanner, moving it over the scarred tissue and hollow sockets. “Normally this would be where I gave a patient a nice pep talk, but I don’t have anything good to say about what they did to you. Even the cauterization…” He trails off. “There’s nothing that can be regenerated. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for trying,” Iris says in that sweet, simple tone of hers.

I clench my jaw as Tarekh gives me a frustrated look. I hate that she’s so complacent about all of this. She should be fighting mad. I could understand that. I could understand fear. Instead she’s just…placid.

“I’ll give you a salve to reduce the scarring and another one for your thigh. Rub it in twice a day until you’re out and I’ll add you to the ship’s bio-logs so we can monitor you and make sure you’re not hiding any other health issues. But you’ve got no parasites or pathogens, so that’s a plus. Love, will you hand me one of those plas-gowns behind you?” He glances over at Cat.

“She can have my blanket,” Cat says, and unwraps it from her shoulders, offering it to her mate. “I’m not cold.”

I turn back to Iris, frowning. Is she cold? But as Tarekh gently drapes the blanket over Iris’s thin shoulders, I realize he’s covering her near-nudity. Then I’m mad at myself that I didn’t think of such a thing. I should have realized she might be uncomfortable.

“You can sleep here,” Tarekh begins.

“No,” I interject quickly. The med-bay is a small room and usually cluttered with Tarekh’s junk. It’s not comfortable and I want her to have a nice bed and pleasant places to sit and relax. I want her to be able to stretch out and get comfortable. “She can have my room. I’ll sleep somewhere else.”

“All right,” Tarekh says easily. Then he switches to our native language. “You know that’s how it started between me and Cat, right?”

I scowl at him. Cat just smirks in my direction and gives me a sly wink. “I’ve got some extra clothes that’ll fit you,” the human female says. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Iris.”

“Like the flower. Pretty.” Cat hops to her feet and heads out of med-bay. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Tarekh’s tail flicks a little slower and he turns away from Iris. He puts away some of his tools and digs out new ones. “Let’s go ahead and get that leg wound cleaned and stitched up.” He moves to the machine and starts punching something into the interface. As he does, I study her. Her name means “flower”? It suits her and is as lovely as she is.

She turns her face toward my direction, seeking something. “Are you still here, Alvos?”

“I’m here.” She gives a little nod and chews on her lip, as if she wants to say something but is afraid. “What is it?” I ask. “Are you in pain?”

Iris swallows hard. “Are you…going to stay?” Her face pales. “You don’t have to, of course. I’m sure you’re busy. I was just curious…”

“Of course,” I tell her, and take a few steps closer. “Do you want to hold my hand while he works on you?”

She immediately sticks her hand out, and I see that it’s trembling. Of course she’s nervous. I imagine anyone cutting into her after what she’s been through is terrifying. I put my hand in hers and give it a squeeze to let her know that I’m here. Iris immediately clasps both hands around mine, and to my surprise, she uses the fingers of her other hand to trace my knuckles. “You only have four fingers,” she murmurs. “I thought your hand felt different.”

Tarekh looks rather busy across the room, digging through a box of supplies. I rub my thumb over Iris’s skin, not caring that she’s filthy. “My people have three fingers and a thumb, yes. Same with our feet.”

“Your feet have three fingers and a thumb?” That teasing smile curves her mouth again and then immediately disappears once more. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I—”

I chuckle, though the sound is forced. I don’t like the terror that comes across her face, as if she’s just made a grave error by making a joke. I need her to know I’m not upset, though. “My feet are ugly, but not quite that bad.”

“No, they’re pretty bad,” Tarekh adds, returning to her side. He pulls down a pointed-looking attachment from the wall and guides it toward her. “All right, Iris. I’m going to have to open the wound so we can get rid of the infection before it spreads to your bloodstream. I’m going to sterilize the area first, then numb it. Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathes, and her hands tighten on mine, though outwardly she’s as placid as ever.

I give her a squeeze back to let her know that I’m here.

“You’re going to feel something wet across your thigh first,” Tarekh says. “Then I’ll numb it with a small, painless injection.”

I’m pleased that Tarekh’s taking the time to explain what he’s doing before he touches her. He’s a good guy, my friend. I’m buying him a round at the drink bubbler at the next cantina, that’s for sure. I rub my thumb over Iris’s soft, strange-colored skin again. “If he hurts you, it’s okay to get angry at him,” I tell her, hoping for a reaction. Laughter. A smile. Something. Anger, even.

But she just remains perfectly still, waiting.