Page 9 of All or Nothing
“A multitool,” Uraka muttered. She sighed heavily and looked back at Djelani again, who clearly disapproved. Uraka got to her feet, glaring at Hot Alien Guy all the while.
“If you make any moves I don’t like,” she growled at him, “then I will rip your head from your shoulders before you can blink.”
Hot Alien Guy swallowed, nodding enthusiastically. “Y-yes ma’am. Of course. I really don’t mean you any harm.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ragrets
XOLLEN
THERE WASno way these females were going to believe me, I realized.
Today had taught me that I was hopelessly stupid and naive when it came to anything real, anything that mattered. The big one—Uraka seemed to be her name—had been embarrassingly correct in her assessment of me. What could I do to convince them of the truth? Did the truth even matter here?
There was a very real chance, I was quickly realizing, that my intentions in buying these females didn’t matter. That the only thing that mattered was the plain fact that I had purchased five sentient beings as if they were trinkets in a vendor stall. And that that may be all I ever did for them, since I was destitute now, and didn’t have the sorts of connections that would be of any help to these female refugees.
I swallowed as best I could with the incredible weight of the yvrenii female on my throat, my eyes darting around from face to face. I realized I’d lost my goggles at some point in the fray, and I was starting to feel faint again.
“Come on, Uraka…let him go,” the strange one said softly, tucking a strand of her pale gold hair behind a small rounded ear. The gentleness of her voice made me feel strange: still and level, like I was at peace and…wait, was thiscalmI was feeling?
I had spent years and years on emotional regulators to try and help me find calm. And with a handful of words from a strange alien, I was finding it. My eyes locked on her face, urgently trying to drink in the sight of her.
The name of her people escaped me. Hue-something. She was much smaller than Uraka but plush and soft in a way that made my fingers itch to touch her, to pull her close and feel that softness against me. In the dim lights of the cargo bay it was hard to tell what color her eyes were, but they were curious rather than horrified, white all along the edges and some sort of darkish color in the center. Her skin was a pale tan color, with a fine down visible along her mostly bare legs. Her clothes seemed thin and ragged, and she hugged herself as if she was cold.
After a pause to consider, Uraka heaved a sigh and hauled herself off of me. I rolled onto my side, coughing, then pushed myself into a sitting position.
“What’s your name?” the soft one asked, offering me a smile. My hearts clenched in my chest. She was quite lovely, despite how different she looked.
“Xollen Me’Tirri Be’Faan,” I replied, my voice hoarse in my ears. I coughed again. “And can I ask your name? Er—all of your names?”
The soft one’s smile brightened. “That’s a mouthful. You ever go by anything else?”
“Just Xollen is acceptable.”
“Well, alright then. Nice to meet you, Xollen. I’m Joss. Short for Joslyn Aceveda. But I like just Joss.” She uncrossed her arms, revealing the heavy roundness of her breasts and peaked nipples. I had to clench my jaw to keep myself from groaning at the sight. Joss gestured beside her at the yvrenii. “This is Uraka, and that’s Djelani—” she pointed at the felican, “and Wren and Ghena are still unconscious in the crate.”
“We should check them out in your medbay, slaver,” Uraka growled, glaring at me with all three of her golden eyes, a very unusual color for an yvrenii. “I do not like how long they have been unconscious.”
My immediate reaction was to try and protest that I wasn’t a slaver, but the words caught in my throat. Ihadbought them. If I was being objective and honest with myself I’d participated in the system and given 3 million credits to terrible people who would likely use those credits to do terrible things. I swallowed.
“Of course. Help yourselves to whatever you’d like. I really do mean to help,” I said, trying to pour the earnestness with which I felt those words into my eyes. I scrambled to my feet, brushing dirt from my pants and tunic and adjusting my mask to it sat more flush against my face. I winced when the bridge pressed into where Uraka had punched me in the face.
Uraka grunted. “Who else is on the ship with us?” she asked.
“It’s just us. Everything else is bots and AI.”
She raised a thick honey-brown brow, scrunching her third eye on that side. “Full auto on a shuttle? You really are loaded, slaver.”
“Was,” I grumbled, hating the whining note I heard in my voice. “I only have 128 credits to my name, now.”
Uraka ignored me and went back inside the crate, emerging with the unconscious myauanni female cradled in her muscular arms. “You can grab Ghena, make yourself useful.”
I nodded, shuffling into the dark confines of the crate and carefully lifting the remaining female’s limp, delicate form from off the floor. Even with my paltry strength I was able to lift her easily; likely Uraka had realized just how unfit I was and done this on purpose. As I passed Joss on my way out she offered me a shy smile. “Hey, um—thanks, by the way. For saving us. I know Uraka’s being a hardass about it but I really appreciate that.” I returned her smile, feeling a little better. I wasn’t sure what she meant by “hardass” but perhaps that was a strange saying of her people.
I led the way to my shuttle’s tiny medbay, feeling Uraka’s three eyes on my back like daggers the whole time. Opening the door with a voice command, I gently placed Ghena on the only exam table and pulled the bioscanner from its charging port on the wall. I was struck by just how different Joss looked compared to Ghena when the two females were the same species. Ghena looked nice enough, but I was not drawn to her like I was Joss.
“It’s just the one bed I’m afraid,” I apologized, my grip on the scanner tightening.
