Page 58 of Taken to Heimo
15
Svera
Krisxox is still staring at me like I’ve gone completely mad when the doors to our escape pod are pried open to reveal a small battalion of Eshmiri reavers standing in a square tunnel brandishing all manner of fantastical weapon.
I’ve read about Eshmiri and seen their holo-images, but I’m still startled by the sight of them. They stand shorter than I do, but their torsos are built like barrels and their legs are short stumps. Their arms are thick with muscles big enough to carry the weapons they hold and they arearmed. I thought Krisxox looked lethal, but these little creatures look positively mad. Especially because they’re allsmiling.
Their faces are mostly eyes and tiny, round mouths full of tiny razors for teeth that sit where a chin should. They don’t have noses, but apparently have gills behind the stiff flaps of the large ears that lie flat against their round, compressed skulls. Those gills filter in all types of air, making it possible for them to survive up to half a solar in deep space without any oxygen. At least, this is what the reports say. I hope not to have to test it.
They regard me curiously, even as they jump and scream in their own high-pitched war cry. It’s enough to make anyone run away screaming.
But I don’t run. Not even as Krisxox grabs my arm and tries to pull me back. “Xok, Svera!” He shouts, lifting a blaster and pointing it at the first male who lifts his own long staff. It’s got a spear affixed to the end of it and I know that if it hits Krisxox even once, we’re completely doomed. It’ll paralyze him, leaving me to deal with them alone.
“You really are going to deserve punishment after this,” he hisses, but I don’t let that deter me as I take another step towards the Eshmiri, hold up both my hands and scream, “Stop!”
The Eshmiri look between one another. There must be at least twenty of them all crowded in the doorway, but there are more in the dark shaft of the derelict ship behind them.
We should have prepared for this. Eshmiri are known to glom onto the underbellies of Niahhorru war ships and raid any incoming and outgoing transporters, picking off the smaller trading vessels — or escape pods just like this one. Their technology is said to specialize in cloaking shields, which allows them to remain undetected by even the most advanced fleets.
“Svera…” Krisxox growls. I can see the flash of his blaster beside my head. A massive thing, he trains it on the Eshmiri holding the disabler pointed at my head.
“Look. We are outnumbered and well aware that you intend to take us to sell us,” I explain to them in Meero.
They all look between one another. Or at least, most do. The rest just stare at me, nod and smile.
I exhale, shaky as I continue, “We are ready to surrender…”
“The xok we are…”
“We are ready to surrender,” I say, louder now. “But we have some conditions. You will sell us, ontte?”
They all nod, smiling wider, now — some are even giggling. “We want to choose who you sell us to.”
Their leadership structure is much of a mystery to the Voraxians, so I don’t know where to train my gaze as the Eshmiri speak all at once and seemingly not to one another. I can’t make out their hushed words.
Finally, two of them shout contradictory things at me in Meero. “Why would we do that?” And, “We want drink!”
I latch onto the latter. “Ontte, excellent idea. Why don’t you all come onboard and we’ll make you some nice tea.” I don’t even know if they have tea on this escape pod. “Then we can decide together where you’ll sell us. If you don’t do this now, then unfortunately, we will have to fight you. My Xiveri mate here is the Krisxox of Voraxia, their strongest fighter. You will kill us and he will kill many of you if we fight now, and then you won’t be able to sell us at all. It will be a losing scenario for us all. Now come.”
I step forward against Krisxox’s snarled orders, and reach for the Eshmiri holding the disabler. I gently push the tip aside and watch as his eyes widen even larger to consume almost his entire head. Cautiously, I place my hand on his shoulder.
“Come,” I repeat. “Let’s work this out together.”
I manage to get all of the Eshmiri inside our escape pod. They cover the entire visible area of the floor. I also manage to find some sort of black drink encased in tubes shaped like vials and dispense them among the Eshmiri gathered. They giggle gleefully as they drink.
Krisxox stands against one wall. He refuses to take a seat or lower his weapon, but the Eshmiri don’t seem to mind. They’re shouting and speaking amongst themselves in Eshmiri, a high pitched language that sounds like laughter and makes me smile inappropriately whenever I hear it.
Perhaps it’s just the fact that I’m sitting in a seat negotiating with my captors while drinking a black syrup from a small vial that tastes like burned garbage or the fact that, as I do all of these things, I’m completely covered in blue seed beneath my shift, or that, I’ve finally realized that the male glowering around at everything against the far wall is, in fact, my Xiveri mate.
“So,” I say with a smile, looking around at this uh…odd bunch. The Eshmiri are wrapped up in scraps of leather and cloth. Some of the colors are matte and familiar, while others shine with iridescence and others vibrate, as if charged. They also all appearmaleand I have to remind myself that they aren’t actually male at all. The Eshmiri only have one gender. Babies are grown in cocoons when multiple Eshmiri get together and…couple.
“How do you feel about selling us back to the Voraxians? We are highly valued members of the society and they will pay an enormous sum to have us returned.”
“How much?” One of the Eshmiri pips.
“At least…” I glance at Krisxox. He holds up three fingers. “Three million credits.”
Whispering erupts, more laughter, too. A disagreement between two Eshmiri is settled when one of them punches the other in the jaw. That one laughs as he falls back into the Eshmiri sitting next to him.
