7. “Well, that’s not ideal.”
SEVEN
“Well, that’s not ideal.”
The shiftgem gate hung in space and twinkled in the ship’s light. A myriad of colors played across the surface, and I marveled at the display. “Is that why the gems are called shiftgems? Because they change colors?”
“They can change their state from crystal to an odd metal in the right conditions. That’s how it got the name evolvulite. The gates did give the stone its common name, though. They really do look like they’re shifting colors. But as far as we can tell, the effect is from the various crystals activating and glowing as we get close. Light refraction.” Waldren got up from his seat and showed me how the straps for the co-captain’s chair worked, securing me into the harness before returning to his seat and doing the same. He then pressed a button on the arm of his chair and said, “Gate activation in t-minus five minutes.”
“What if someone isn’t ready in five minutes?” I asked.
“They’ll comm me. Alban will make sure Palta is secured in her cubby.” He gestured to a monitor on the nearby wall, which showed a diagram of the ship with a series of red, yellow, and green lights. One by one, the reds turned to yellow, and then the yellows turned to green. He pointed at one area within the crew quarters. “He already contained her before I sent out the five minute warning.” He pressed a few buttons on the arm panel and a section of the monitor outlined in white. “That’s her sector.”
While small, the cubby was marked, and it was colored green. “Green means ready?”
“Correct. The ship has validated the settings and occupants of those sectors, and when the sector turns green, it’s been locked down for the flight through the gate.”
At one minute before his countdown ended, everything on the ship was marked green. “Now what?”
“Magic,” Waldren replied, and he pressed a few buttons. Two control stands rose from the floor within his easy reach, along with a set of foot pedals. “I have numerous control mechanisms on the ship, but these are my favorite. I have more fine-tune control in case I need to do evasive maneuvers.” The ship rumbled, and it eased back from the gate. “Hold on tight. This is going to be a wild ride.”
At a few presses of a button, an electronic voice began a ten second countdown. The ship’s rumble intensified, and at the count of one, he moved the ship forward. According to his body language, he expected something bad to happen, as he tensed as the glowing archway drew closer.
White light enveloped the ship.
Squealing alarms indicated Waldren was right to worry. Before I could do more than squeak, he cursed, hit some buttons on his armchair, and manipulated the controls. In the time it took me to draw three breaths and register we were no longer in space, the ship’s systems quieted.
Rather than the expected inky void, a sandy beach loomed in front of us with a band of trees in the distance. White capped waves crashed on the shore.
I marveled that Waldren had somehow managed to control the ship despite the utter change of environment. “How did you do that?”
“The ship’s autopilot was enabled, the ship detected the changes in gravity, initiated hover thrusters, and per my programming, came to a halt. That process can destabilize the ship, so I did some adjustments to level us out so the hover can work properly. Because things like this can happen, pilots enter the gates at a speed suitable for sustaining flight in most habitable atmospheres, so it was a matter of checking for risk of imminent collision, adjusting some settings, and stabilizing the ship’s course. That could have gone a lot worse.” Waldren focused on one of the monitors, and he tapped on the armrest of his seat. “In bad news, I have no idea where we are.”
“Uninhabited space?” I asked, a chill sweeping through me.
“I only load complex star charts and planetary coordinates for sectors of space I think I will need to go or have been. I don’t usually make use of gates like this, and nobody has a chart listing for that specific gate because it can literally go anywhere—it just tends to favor one set of gates, and with a ninety-five percent chance of going to that gate, most are willing to risk it. I’ll be able to evaluate our position once the planet’s night begins; I do have a complete star map of known space for identifying our position so I can load up the relevant charts—if I have them. The star maps are usually enough to get us going in the right direction.”
“You can do that with star maps?”
“I can, yes. The flight system has star views from all angles, so it’s possible to identify a general location with a clear view of the stars from a planet,” he replied, and he unbuckled his harness, came over, and showed me how to unbuckle mine. “But now we have more than a few issues. First, if the planet is inhabited, we need to figure out who lives here, inform them of the gate mishap, and clear ourselves of legal issues. That won’t be a problem, as I registered us as using the shiftgem gate.”
I wondered if that would be truly good enough if somebody took offense to our presence. “The odds that this is an inhabited world?”
Waldren eyed one of the monitors, and after a moment, he said, “The atmospheric conditions are suitable for human life, with an oxygen density of 20.1%. That’s a little lower than what we like but plenty sufficient. Veloc prefer 21.5%, which is a little higher than what humans prefer, which is 21%. 20.1% is a little lower than what is comfortable for a Veloc, but they won’t have to wear masks to survive. They’re just going to be a little uncomfortable. Veloc would not choose to live here, which is a good thing—most species wouldn’t choose this planet despite its status as habitable.” He pressed a few buttons and grunted at whatever result he found on the monitor. A glare warned me the man disliked what he read. “We’re outside of the comm range to any spaceports for my ship, which means we’re on the edge of explored space, and I’m not picking up anything on the common communication frequencies.”
“Well, that’s not ideal,” I muttered, getting up from my seat to inspect the monitors and the various bits of information they spit out. The atmospheric intel intrigued me, as the ship reported the entire atmospheric conditions. “How does it get the data so quickly?”
“I invested in an exterior sensor system. It retracts during space travel, but once I had the ship hovering, I activated it. The atmospheric tests don’t take long to run. The next test is longer, and we stay on board until it completes.”
“Atmospheric biohazards?” I guessed. From viruses to toxins, there could be things in the air that didn’t get picked up on the basic readings capable of killing people in a hurry. “We were learning about those systems in school, but we wouldn’t actually be trained in deciphering the data until next year. We started with direct hazards first, registering unidentified life forms and generalized identification of what might try to kill us. If the teeth are sharp and pointy, it will probably try to kill us. If a single human can fit in its mouth without chewing, it will probably try to kill us. If it has sharp and pointy bits, period, it will probably try to kill us. That applies to plants and animals.”
Waldren snickered. “That is a good way to stay alive for a little longer, I do have to admit. Your schooling didn’t seem to indicate Veloc are possessing of sharp, pointy teeth, however. They also have long, pointy claws.”
“Veloc are definitely top-grade predators I shouldn’t pet.” I regarded him with a grin. “But now that I’m aware of how soft they are, I’m making it a mission to see how many different Veloc I can pet without losing my life.”
“Considering you have successfully petted one, you’re ahead of most humans.” Waldren held up three fingers. “When honest, I’ve petted this many unwilling Veloc, one of which is my brother-in-law. I demanded to pet him. To be a complete jackass about it, I demanded that he make certain his feathers were soft enough to be worthy of my sister. My sister loved it. Her Veloc? He tolerated me petting him, and the instant my sister looked the other way, he tossed me into the nearest river. I deserved it, but I threaten to pet him again—or take him into space so he’s trapped on my ship and I can pet him at my leisure.”
Something about the banter put me at ease, and I wondered at the man’s change of behavior without the Veloc around. “So, we’re agreed. Veloc exist to be petted, much like cats.”
“It’s a dangerous venture, but the reward might be worth the risk—especially since it’s their fault we are now in this position.”
Were they at fault? In a way, I supposed they held some responsibility. From my understanding of the situation, they were the driving force behind my restored hearing and new tail. I would find some way to repay that debt, although I would focus more on Waldren.
The Veloc all seemed like the kind to go across the universe for the sake of another as their default, where the man had come despite his misgivings and hesitancies. In a way, I understood both sides.
Waldren’s position made his presence more of a sacrifice and a duty, where the Veloc found their work to be a reward as much as it was a responsibility.
As I’d gotten Waldren to relax, I decided to hold my course and do my best to maintain the jovial atmosphere despite being lost on some planet possibly skirting explored space. “We could charge each Veloc on board with mandatory petting as compensation for being stuck on a possibly unexplored planet.” I giggled, turning my gaze to the beach before us. “What sort of planet would a shiftgem gate send us to?”
“Whichever one it wants, which is the issue. The gems have some ability to communicate with each other over vast distances. We haven’t figured out how , but the gates obviously communicate with each other somehow.”
I nodded. I’d heard the theory before, but nobody truly understood the underlying workings of the gates, how’d they’d been formed, and what made them work. “So, I guess we need to evaluate what we discussed, our various feelings on the matter, and how the shiftgems might interpret that.”
With narrowed eyes, Waldren eyed the monitor. A moment later, a flood of information appeared. “Ah. Yes, good thought. The atmospheric conditions are a little questionable for us , but they’re ideal for Palta. They come from a high mountain environment with lower pressures and sometimes lower oxygen content. Cats of her species would be quite comfortable here. But how would the shiftgems have been able to locate a planet with ideal atmospheric conditions for a specific species of cat?” Frowning, he regarded the monitor again, and an image of a cat similar to Palta but with a paler coat appeared, including information on atmospheric and biologic requirements for the survival of the species. “It’s an almost perfect match to the conditions they prefer in the summer with the exception of elevation. And having the conditions in a lusher environment gives them a better chance of overall survival.”
“More prey and habitat options,” I muttered, joining him in reading the screen. “But how did you access the data so quickly?”
“I have a link, too. I’ll be the one primarily teaching you how to cope with the link installations. It can be overwhelming. I tapped into the ship’s database with the link so I wouldn’t have to dig out a keyboard and start typing.”
“Convenient.” I pointed at the section involving their diet. “But what are the odds that the planet will have the appropriate fare for her species?”
“The odds are really high. Andean mountain cats have a surprisingly adaptable digestive system. If it’s an animal of the right size, for the most part, they’re willing to eat it—and can get away with it. Should the planet have a viable large island the cats can’t escape from without human intervention that can be stocked with good prey, this could work to preserve the species.”
I’d been aware of people manipulating new planets, especially ones on the lower threshold for being habitable, as animal sanctuaries. “And if this planet hasn’t been discovered before?”
“Well, we will be very rich, I won’t be at all worried about buying you a pair of your own cats, and you could invest in your own ship without even thinking about it. Discoveries of new, habitable planets bag a huge bounty. If we have, though, we’ll have a problem on our hands.”
I could think of a lot of problems. “Getting back to explored space is one of those problems.”
“Exactly. If we’re lucky, we’ll find an undiscovered shiftgem gate.”
“And if we’re not?”
“Well, I hope you enjoy keeping us company, because it could be years before we find our way back to known space—if we ever do.”
After a few minutes of running system checks, Waldren informed the Veloc on board we had undergone a slight locational mishap. His wording over it reduced me to tears of laughter. By the time the Veloc all showed up, cramming into the bridge along with Palta, I struggled to breathe and chortle at the same time.
“Please do not mind Camellia. She finds me endlessly amusing, and it seems she views my way of speaking beyond hilarious.” Waldren’s typical scowl returned, and he claimed Palta from Herserael, cuddling with his cat and sitting down to better attend to her. “The gate has decided we’re visiting a new planet, habitable but less than ideal for most oxygen-breathing species. The general oxygen level is a little below ideal. However, the planet, at first estimate, seems ideal for certain breeds of cat, like Palta.”
The Veloc hooted their laughter, and Albon recovered first, stating, “The gate must have read her desire to preserve Palta’s most charming species. Your desire as well, when you are honest about it.”
With a shrug, the man replied, “I’ve been saving up to acquire a permanent companion for Palta. It just happens all the male Andeans have not been to her standards thus far.”
I eyed the viewport and the beach. “Didn’t various coalitions dump a bunch of endangered Earth species on habitable but non-ideal planets after the exodus?”
Waldren grinned at me. “All of those planets are recorded, and I have them registered in the system. They also have global comm satellites, so I would have been able to identify our location had this been one of those worlds. That’s a very good tidbit of knowledge to have, however, and I’m impressed you were aware of the exodus planets.”
“Well, we’re a backwater world, but we did track what happened to the other branches of homo sapiens . Part of our training is to go check in on those worlds to see what has happened to them after so many years.”
“It’s amazing to think that progress can happen so quickly but then stall as we reach the limits of our creativity and ingenuity. We have only managed to progress science so far, and there are so many barricades preventing progress.” Waldren gestured to the entirety of his ship’s bridge. “We have conquered many forms of space travel, but we have not conquered traveling at the speed of light. We’ve gotten close, but most organics simply cannot handle the forces exerted on the body. Instead, we have shiftgem gates.”
“Which surpasses the speed of light by a hefty margin. Sure, we didn’t conquer traveling at the speed of light, but we can travel millions of light years in the blink of an eye. That’s something special.” I pointed at the beach. “I’ve seen pictures of beaches before. I’ve heard the sound of waves on the sand. But I’ve never been on a beach.”
“Ah, right. Your home is located in the heart of your major continent, far from any beaches.” Waldren eyed the beach. “We’re probably two days from determining if it’s safe to go take a walk on the beach, but if it is, we can do that. I will be taking the ship onto land if there’s a suitable landing spot to preserve energy.”
“The toxin tests take a long time to run on this ship?” I guessed.
“That plus we’ll have to get biologic samples, although if everything checks out, we might suit up and go. I have an arm we can use to gather samples of the flora to do a basic surface test for toxins and dangerous substances. Getting a robust enough sample test plus doing an extensive flyby of the area will take up most of a day. Then we’ll need to see if there is viable prey. If so, we’ll have the Veloc earn their keep. The lower oxygen levels will make such a hunt a challenge for them. We’ll lose half a day ridding them of potential pests, as we’ll have to bathe them with various pesticides. Homo sapiens have the advantage. We are much easier to groom.”
Herserael sighed. “You are still upset with us over the flea incident.”
“Palta got bitten, and she is allergic to fleas. I had to purify every inch of my ship against the pests, and you feathered freaks didn’t want to have the pesticides applied to your so-called perfect bodies.”
Somehow, the man managed to shame all the attending Veloc into flattening their crests and bowing their heads.
“All beings, including the homo sapiens , will be properly treated for any pests in the quarantine bay immediately upon return to the ship should the planet prove non-hostile. We will deal with having to oil feathers, using moisturizers, and otherwise undoing the damage from the pesticides. We will also check for any toxicity from the treatments two weeks after and deal with any consequences promptly.” Waldren engaged Alban in a staring contest, using a mix of hisses and a growl to force the Veloc’s attention to him. “I will tell your mate on you if you do not cooperate.”
“Ruthless,” Alban hissed in reply. “You coerce us, bathe us in those… those concoctions…”
“Insecticides, most of which are safe for homo sapiens and Veloc alike, with minimal consequences we’ll address after we’re cleaned of pests. Be grateful. It could be worse. I could be enforcing internal purges of foreign materials while on world. I’m going to be generous and allow you to eat anything you catch as long as you allow me to run it through the scanner first. And don’t you lie to me, you feathered freaks, you like your meat a little ripe!”
“He’s gotten a bit feisty since the shiftgem gate made a mess of his schedule,” I stated, looking him over. Waldren bristled at the Veloc in a way that amused his cat, who did her best to snuggle up to him while he established who ruled over his vessel. “One of my teachers called you feathered murder machines, and I need to confess I still think of you as such.”
My words captured the attention of all the Veloc, and the entire lot of them perked up as though I’d gifted them with the greatest of compliments.
Waldren snickered. “That’s a good one. I might have to adopt that one when they’re being good and need to feel special.”
“It is a badge of pride to be a murder machine for a predator, isn’t it?” I considered the Veloc, chuckling at their body language, which claimed Waldren had laid them all low but believed in some form of salvation, likely coming from me. “If this is a new planet, I can buy cats for myself with my share, right?”
Alban recovered first, and he nodded. “Yes. We get equal shares, and there’s an extra share assigned to ship maintenance and to feeding and caring for Palta, split between them.”
“Well, she is the ship’s cat, and that’s a very prestigious job. Ship maintenance is also critical. It seems fair to me that the ship maintenance comes out of a share and the cats get the rest. They’re morale improvement officers.” I grinned at the memory of the debate that’d broken out in one of my classes regarding the importance of general morale during a long voyage. “I’m of the opinion that morale boosting crew are worth keeping around even if they lack in any other viable skill set for a venture. If the team’s morale fails, the team fails. Not everyone agrees with me.”
Waldren snorted. “You’re absolutely correct. Most sentient species are social. There is plenty of practical evidence proving that seclusion among most sentients equates to mental and emotional trauma to the point it can be lethal. I’ve been evaluated as stable with only Palta for company, but the feathered murder machines lose their minds at the thought of me venturing off into space alone, so they send entourages with me.”
“It’s always useful having your own army of feathered murder machines, Waldren. You’re one of the best armed sentients in the universe. You have how many Velocs willing to murder on your behalf?”
Waldren made a show of counting heads. “Currently, there are four. How many are in the clan, Herserael?”
“We are seven thousand strong, and we should reach eight thousand next breeding season, should all go well.” The Veloc regarded me with a grin, displaying his many teeth. “We are one of the smaller clans, but we hold large territory and we have taken over a small, habitable world by our own strength. We invite other clans to use our planet for hunting ventures, so we make good credits and hold much prestige. But we are small, as we are prone to seducing wayward homo sapien s women, who do not produce entire clutches of children at one time. But our numbers grow, as our crest color has become a more dominant gene as of late.”
“You’re born into a clan?” I guessed.
Bobbing his head, Herserael said, “Veloc society is complicated. You are eligible to join any clan you match colors with. For example, my father has an emerald crest, an azure tail, golden feet and legs, and a crimson chest. He ultimately joined the Emerald Crests, but he is welcome at any clan matching his colors. It works well for us, as every hatchling ultimately has a choice of several clans, which include crest, tail, chest, arms, legs, talons or claws, and feet. Homo sapiens are welcome in any clan they have a tie to. Family members of someone mated to a Veloc, much like Waldren here, are held in high regard. He has suitors often from other clans hoping to build an alliance with us.”
If looks could kill, Waldren would have slaughtered his Veloc family member within moments. “I do not have any suitors, thank you.”
“You have not accepted any suitors, but they litter the ground you walk upon, and they show off their feathers and baubles in hopes you will pay them any attention,” the Veloc replied without any evidence of the man’s wrath bothering him. “Perhaps the gate wished to spare you from their adoration for a while longer.”
The way that Waldren blanched implied the Veloc hadn’t been far off the mark. Interesting. “Were you hoping to delay the inevitable, Waldren?”
“There’s only one thing worse than being forced to go on a hunt with the Veloc, and that’s being hunted by them in packs—and not to be the main course for dinner!”
I laughed at the thought of the man being stalked in large groups by a bunch of predatory females out to continue their species. “But homo sapiens and Veloc are biologically compatible, right?”
“Veloc are biologically compatible with most species. In the case of males selecting a homo sapiens mate, his reproductive system will, over the course of a year or so, adapt for compatibility with his new mate. Most Veloc won’t engage physically with their new partner for at least a year or two. There might be irresolvable problems with any children produced,” Waldren explained. “In the case of female Veloc, it’s usually a six month process, but she won’t engage for at least a year for the same reason. The last thing a Veloc wants to do is lose a child due to impatience.”
I hadn’t heard that part about Veloc biology, and I marveled over the patience of the species and their care for their families. “That’s so strange. Not all homo sapiens are compatible, but Veloc can breed with just about anything.”
Alban’s soft hoots drew my attention to him. “ Homo sapiens’ reproductive compatibility is a strange thing. As neither of you are aquatically adapted, you should have no problems with reproduction should you opt to grace our clan with offspring. Even the aquatically adapted can reproduce with minimal genetic therapy. It is a pity you will never master the art of reproduction quite like a Veloc. We are truly supreme beings.”
I could understand the reason for his pride; unlike most species, Veloc possessed dominant genetics, resulting in almost every child being born a Veloc regardless of parentage. The rare times another species came from a union involving a Veloc, the child was typically female and carried her Veloc genes, often having Veloc children.
I’d read about a live birthed Veloc born from non-Veloc parents, who’d adapted to preserve his mother’s life. His claws and teeth had grown in sufficiently slower to allow for nursing, although by the time he’d turned five, only a few things differentiated him from his Veloc kin: he had his mother’s furred tail, and he was roughly half the size of other Veloc.
“I read a study about an Azure Tail who doesn’t have Veloc parents, although I don’t know how old that study is.”
“Oh, that’s new enough,” Alban replied, and his crest rose. “He’s now a precocious teen who has discovered women of all species are interesting. He’s more in love with the stars, though, and the current apple of his eye is a spaceship. His family is horrified, but the rest of his clan has sent him off on an adventure with some Azure Feet. They’re pirate hunters with a specialty and love of killing planet busters. He’s doing quite well, and the Azure Feet will keep him steered clear of romance until he’s fully grown. We aren’t sure if he’s slow to reach his full stature or if he has active feline genetics. There is feline in him, as his parents are a sentient feline species. I will refrain from telling you more of them, as you will surely want to pet them.”
“There are feline sentients?” I blurted.
“The universe is a strange and marvelous place, and among the billions of stars we have not yet reached or studied, there are habitable planets—and where there is life, there is chaos. From that chaos comes the many species we know and have yet to discover.” Alban gestured towards the beach. “That beach could be home to hundreds of new species we know nothing of. That is chaos in its purest form. But there is order to that chaos, as they all survive and thrive together.”
I considered his perspective, marveling at the dichotomy of it. Order and chaos, surviving and thriving together? To me, that sounded about as convoluted and impossible as efficient government.
Had my situation been left to the planet’s rulers, I never would have made it to the mercy ship in the first place. “That reminds me. How did the mercy ship get clearances for me to come and go as I pleased? It’s a lot of paperwork to leave.”
Waldren made a thoughtful sound. “It is a condition of being eligible for the services of a mercy ship. The planet’s government may not bar anyone receiving treatments from coming or going from their planet. But we handled your paperwork for you for this voyage. You’re covered to return should you wish without penalty from your government. I handled the filing, as your world is rather backwater regarding other species. They had trouble enough with the limited exposure to the Veloc they had when we first processed our arrival and got permits to land on the planet to deliver the comm tech to your parents. I’m making Alban replace those toys with better ones, so don’t worry about that.”
The Veloc in question flared his crest and whistled his amusement. “You are an amusing youngling. Yes, yes, your toys were overdue for replacement, and this is the only way you will let us shower you with our affection, as you won’t allow us to put baubles in your crest.”
As I resembled a peacock and had gotten used to the idea of being ambushed by eager Veloc wishing to adorn my hair with jewels, I considered the man, deciding green would play wonderfully with his hair color and conflict nicely with his eyes. “Would you let me help them once with your hair? I want to see what they do to men.” I gestured towards my head. “I am not really a beauty, but they work magic with me.”
“You’re plenty beautiful,” Waldren replied, and he considered my hair. “Green’s a good color on you, though, which surely amplifies their efforts. But if you want to see how they do it for men, I’ll grow my hair out a little so you can see it. I’ll surprise my sister when we return.”
The Veloc all snorted.
“I think they’re questioning our ability to return, Waldren.” I eyed the beach. “At least we ended up on a nice planet, right? And we have four feathered murder machines capable of hunting for us, so we shouldn’t starve.”
“Assuming there aren’t bigger predators than the Veloc out there,” Waldren replied, joining me in observing the beach. “So, we have protocols we use for situations like this. I’m not trying to offend you, considering your education, but I don’t know what you know, nor do I know what you don’t know. I won’t until I ask or we start working together.”
“Assume I know nothing,” I informed him. “I can identify common toxicity traits of plants, which will be useful here, as that’s often a universal feature. Weird plants tend to have similar tricks to our normal plants, it’s just a matter of identifying those traits. Don’t touch until data analysis has been done is a good rule. If you have a biologics analyzer, I might be able to help, though. We started our training with those, and I’ve been using them for years now.”
“Alban, get the field analyzer,” Waldren ordered. “Herserael, see if we have a field kit that’ll fit her. My spare kit won’t. We’re too different in chest size.”
The Veloc scurried out of the room, and I suspected the pair was relieved to have a job to do.
I eyed his chest. “Width or bust?” I inquired.
As I’d opened fire, he gave me the same treatment in looking me over. “I was thinking width, but your bust is substantially larger than mine. My width does not make up for your other advantages.”
I burst into laughter and joined him in staring at my chest. “While I don’t have an overabundance of mammary material, it is definitely present. I’m just going to apologize in advance for the extra clothing expenses. Bras are not cheap.”
“They are when the Veloc you’re living with adore human clothing and love making anything to make their featherless clan members shine. They love adorning breasts as much as they do crests. Your clothing bill will be fine as long as you don’t mind gifts.”
Nobody had warned me that the Veloc were insane and lacked regard for money. “When it comes to bras, I have no problems accepting gifts.” That left me with the problem of my hair, adorned with more baubles than I knew what to do with. “But what about my hair?”
“We have ways of adorning human crests in a manner safe for the equipment,” Gersenalt commented before looking at the final Veloc on board, a bright yellow one with an emerald crest like the others. “Rerenni, you can handle that, as you’re the best for ensuring the comfort of our victims.”
The Veloc hooted a laugh and bounded off, his capped claws making a strange rapid tapping on the floor with each step. “What is that tapping?”
“Rerenni is the youngest of us, mated only a few seasons before joining us on the ship. His beloved wanted him to, ah… expend some energy in the vacuum of space and spare her for a few weeks. In reality, she wants to create a nest, and she does not want him underfoot while she confers with the experienced mothers on how best to set up their nest. He would cover everything in baubles because he likes how stones glitter and shine. Baubles are not ideal for young hatchlings wishing to eat everything.”
I giggled at the thought of the Veloc having to rescue baubles from young feathered murder machines. “That tapping is an expression of excitement?”
“It is.”
“Waldren, can we study the Veloc once we’re done evaluating the planet?”
Waldren snickered. “Sure, Camellia. We’ll turn the ship into a research facility specializing in Veloc. I’m sure they’ll love it.”
“We absolutely will not,” Gersenalt replied.
“My ship, my rules.”
The Veloc hissed. “We will make you pay, just you wait and see.”
“You can contemplate how you think you’ll make me pay while preparing the quarantine bay. With our current luck, we’ll need it.”