Page 25 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
He speaks too fast—way too fast—for Mila to catch it.
No gestures, no slow articulation. I step in.
“Slow down. The Gekkaris are what you’d call hard-of-hearing. Their communication relies on skin color changes and subtle sound vibrations they feel through their ultra-sensitive skin. They do have ears—those slits on the back of their heads—but hearing isn’t their strong suit. Over the years, Mom has developed a form of sign language paired with sounds they can pick up and recognize. But if you want to talk to them, you need to speak clearly. Slowly.”
“Of course,” he mutters. “I’ve got an implant that can decode every known audio language in the galaxy—and I land on a planet where people speak in color spots and hand signs. Just my luck.”
“Welcome to the Gekkaris,” I say with a wide grin.
7-Ayden
This day is going to be the end of my sanity.
It’s been months since I last felt the warmth of a woman, and years since I started dreaming of a girl who’s completely off-limits. I’ve been avoiding her like the plague. And now here I am, alone with her—and she’s wearing an outfit so tight it might as well be a layer of lavender paint stretched over every inch of her skin. When she stepped out of her room dressed like that, I nearly had a heart attack.
And this endless ride? Don’t even get me started. I tried to sit up front just to keep her delicious curves out of sight, but of course she insisted on taking the controls of the hoverpod with a confidence that floored me.
And then came the physical contact. That prolonged, torturous contact. It didn’t take long to realize I had absolutely no way of hiding my body’s reaction, pressed up against hers. Hopefully her innocence spared me the embarrassment and she didn’t pick up on my... enthusiasm. Which I had to go deal with behind a tree. Yep, that's right. Ayden—elite agent of the Galactic Sentinels—hiding in the bushes to relieve the pressure like some hormonal teenager. How dignified.
Once I finally got my body and brain back under control, I retraced my steps and found her chatting with a Gekkari.
Just like I’d read in the reports over the years, they’re a humanoid species with traits similar to geckos. Small, completely hairless, and honestly, a little unsettling at first glance.
“Ah’den? He’lo! Mi’la!” the Gekkari introduces herself.
Mila? Must be female—I don’t see any male anatomy on her naked body.
“Hello, I’m Ayden,” I say. “Samantha offered to show me your village and introduce me to your people. I hope that’s okay?”
My blonde guide jumps in before anyone can answer, giving me a crash course in Gekkari etiquette. Sam communicates with them through sign language. I had noticed the two of them exchanging gestures earlier.
“You have to speak clearly and slowly with them,” she explains.
Great. I’ve got an implant that translates every audio language in the galaxy, and I happen to run into the one species that communicates through skin color changes and hand gestures. Lucky me.
“Welcome to the Gekkaris!” Sam says with a glowing smile.
Am I hallucinating, or is she enjoying this? Where’s the little Sam who used to blush and stammer when I spoke to her? Looks like she’s grown up and found some confidence.
Fantastic.
When she was younger, her dreamy personality intrigued me—drew me in somehow. Now, at seventeen, those sensual curves of hers are driving me insane. If her shyness isn’t holding her back anymore, I’m in serious trouble. I already miss the days when she couldn’t string two words together around me. I have no idea how I’m going to keep my distance now.
I follow the two of them into the heart of the Gekkari village. I pass several individuals, none of whom seem male—but I know that doesn’t mean anything. Plenty of species have internal reproductive systems or hidden organs that only appear during mating. No way I’m asking which category the Gekkaris fall into. Not them—because I don’t want to offend—and definitely not Sam, because there is no version of that conversation that doesn’t end in mortification.
I don’t even dare pull out my handheld scanner. I’m sure the Confed agents who negotiated the colony setup years ago did their due diligence. Still, it was dumb of me not to study the planet before coming here. That’s on me.
“If you look closely, you’ll see some trees have their leaves pulled up and tied at the top. Those are their homes!” Sam explains.
I glance up at the forest of mauve and violet trees and spot the ones she means—shaped like teardrops, forming little canopies way above the ground. One of the Gekkaris is already halfway up a thick trunk, climbing like it's nothing.
“They have tiny flaps on their fingers,” she adds, “which gives them insane grip. They can climb pretty much anything. Come on, I’ll show you my hut. The Gekkaris wove me a climbing net.”
We head off to the right, and the difference is immediately obvious. The trees beyond this line are untouched, their branches fanned out. But two near us have makeshift rope ladders leading up to the top.
“This one’s mine,” she says, pointing to the closest. “The other one is Mom’s. We’ve only had separate ones for about a year. Her place is pretty cramped, and she likes to store all kinds of things in there.”
I do some quick math—these trees are at least ten feet wide, which makes for maybe eighty square feet of space up there. Probably less, depending on how much of it’s taken up by leaves.
