11. Roark

The more I learned about huu-mans the more fascinating they became as a species. There were many things that intrigued me—too many to keep track of. For example, the fact some of them chose to go to expensive specialized schools called “caw-lege.” At home on Osheania, we had our own schools, but attendance was required and cost nothing. It was our society’s way of ensuring people could get into whatever career they desired. The most similar thing I’d discovered in huu-man culture was something Ushuu had called an “internship.”

They had seasons on Earth, and every area on the planet had different temperatures and weather. And yet—instead of evolving in the north so they had more fur to keep themselves warm, huu-mans came up with inventions and clothing to combat the chill.

Ushuu showed me pictures of many things.

Many things that helped me understand my own little huu-man better.

Things that helped me appreciate him in entirely new, unexpected ways.

Huu-mans displayed their personalities through their choices of clothing. A lot of them relied solely on accessories and colors to project what sort of mate they desired. They hung out in flocks, with huu-mans who wore similar clothing, who liked similar things, who listened to similar music.

Most fascinating of all, however, was the custom huu-mans called “pets.”

We had animals on my home planet. The Fruhg for example. Large amphibious creatures that lived in the country and made this awful ribbit sound when you got too close. Their webbed feet and flippers had never struck me as anything other than necessary for their survival. I’d certainly never found them cute. I couldn’t imagine taking one inside my home and keeping it as a companion.

And yet, huu-mans did that very thing.

With a whole variety of creatures.

So many I couldn’t recall all of their names, though visions of furry four-legged beasts had haunted me all week.

Did Huu-goh miss “beanies,” “coffee,” and “phones”?

I wondered if he’d even had any of those things.

What about his family? Did he have one? As an orphan, the thought had simply not occurred to me until Ushuu brought it up. Did he miss the holidays widely celebrated across his planet? Did he miss “autumn” and “summer” and “TV”?

The idea of seeing Huu-goh dressed in one of the fluffy marshmallow-looking outfits Ushuu had shown me made me ache something fierce. He had called them “puffer coats” and I’d been enamored .

Did he wish he had a dawg?

Or a kaat?

As I finished packing up work for the day, these thoughts plagued me. All week, as I’d worked throughout the day, Huu-goh occupied my thoughts.

My mind would drift from reality, and I would imagine what his life had been like before he’d been taken. It was easy to forget the threats outside the ship, and even the course we were on, when Huu-goh filled my head.

I despaired for him on more than one occasion. Because learning about his culture only made it more obvious that I could not give him even a fraction of what he’d lost from his home planet. There were some things, however, that I could.

I made a detour to the lab where I’d been spending my nights, determined to give Huu-goh something he could keep. A hobby—or…I don’t know. Things to occupy his time while we remained space-borne. I’d been half-tempted to bring him with me all day, but I knew while that would be fun—for both of us—it didn’t give him any sort of autonomy to be forced to follow me around.

He needed his own things.

When Huu-goh had hit the light switch it had frightened me. But I’d tried to put those thoughts behind me. Moving forward was the only way to outrun the shadows in my head—and I had goals that were more important than the fear that lived beneath my skin.

That didn’t erase its existence, but acknowledging it was there, and that I was choosing to move past it, helped.

The second we’d been plunged into darkness together, memories of my teenage years on this very ship burned through my retinas. For a moment all I’d smelled was blood. I could hear the wheeze of Captain’s chest. Could feel the wet-damp blood on my hands, the weak tug of his tendrils trying to soothe me, even though he was dying.

When the lights came back on, and I’d processed that I was not there—but here, with Huu-goh, I was reminded once again of the fear I’d felt when I’d taken him onboard. When I’d locked him in our rooms, terrified he’d be hurt the same way I’d seen others hurt before.

I hated losing control, and for a moment I had.

I’d been just a boy again.

Terrified.

But then he’d comforted me. He’d comforted me—and I’d let him. And for the first time in my life it hadn’t felt like I was dealing with those memories alone. I’d always found him fascinating. Always admired his tenacity and his bravery. But that feeling had only exploded when I had my thoughts back in order and I’d realized that not once—during that entire encounter—had Huu-goh shied from me.

There was trust there.

Affection too—that I didn’t need him to have spots to read—all over his face. And I’d vowed to myself that I would do everything in my power to make him happy. It wasn’t the first time I’d made that promise, but it did strengthen my resolve. Enough so that while I was exhausted—operating on next to no rest at all—I had never been more determined in all my life to see something through.

I was learning Huu-goh’s language as swiftly as I could, but the process was a slow one. Some rules in the language made absolutely no sense, and some words were almost impossible for me to pronounce. Ushuu ended up laughing at me more often than not, and while I appreciated his help and enjoyed his amusement, I never let it take time away from my lessons.

I wanted to know how to speak fluently now , not later.

At this rate, by the time I learned, we would already be back on Osheania where temporary translators were readily available, and I could contact A&R to purchase the permanent alternative. I refused to think the process was pointless, however, because—like we’d already discovered—removable translators were not a foolproof system. And for all I knew, it could take months to get implants delivered to our planet.

“Captain,” Ushuu, greeted me as I paused in the doorway. I huffed, amused as always by our little game.

“I was wondering if you could help me?” I inquired, more than a little giddy.

“Anything you need.”

After I explained Huu-goh’s cleverness to him, and the nanobots I’d seen him fiddling with using a doctored fork, Ushuu made a thoughtful sound.

“He’d be better off in here with me if you’re wanting to give him a purpose.” His eyes turned to crescents. “But you’re right. Maybe some things of his own would make him happy.” He spent the next twenty or so minutes putting together a box of items for me.

Some things I understood, and others I didn’t.

“I bet he’ll find this interesting,” Ushuu beckoned me closer. I hadn’t noticed lately—I’d been so busy learning—but the surface of his gray skin was fading with age, and his spots were paler than they’d been a few years ago. “It’s not functional, but if he’s anything like I was when I was young, he’ll enjoy picking these apart.”

Inside the box was a set of old translators. They were out of commission now, I was certain. Based on the dust alone, and the broken pieces, I figured it’d been a long time since they’d been useful. I was surprised Ushuu had them at all, considering the fact that they didn’t work out in space.

“Thank you,” I replied, excited—but still a little stuck on his fading spots. How had I never noticed before? Had I really been so distracted lately that I hadn’t paid attention?

I feared we were nearing the last of our flights together.

Ushuu stroked a hand over my shoulder, gave my bicep a squeeze, and then wandered off to grab what I’d requested. With his back turned, I let my smile fall as my hearts ached. Huu-goh would like it here with Ushuu. There isn’t a single thing that Ushuu cannot teach him. “Think about sending him over,” he said as he set the box down on the table in front of me. “I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know,” I said—because I did know. I moved to pick up the box, but he held a hand out to stop me. It shook a little, not from nerves but from age.

“I’ll ask him if he wants to,” I responded, already knowing that Huu-goh would. “If he does, I’ll bring him by after lunch in the afternoon if that works for you.”

“I’ve always wanted an apprentice.” Ushuu’s gaze met mine.

He had always been small for a Sahrk, though his intelligence made up for whatever he lacked in size. A formidable foe. Even as old as he was.

“Your mate,” Ushuu made a thoughtful sound, tapping the box with one claw, before removing his hand so I could pick it up. It was heavier than it looked, rattling in my arms. “He is a clever one.”

“Too clever,” I puffed up with pride.

“There is nothing of harm in that box,” Ushuu reassured me. “But there are dangerous things in this room. Dangerous things, I am certain with his level of intelligence, he will be smart enough to work around.”

I nodded, appreciating how candid he was with that information. He was giving me an out. He knew me better than anyone. Knew how hard the captain’s death had hit me. Knew that even before that, I’d always spent far too much time with the worries of the future clouding my thoughts.

A lot had changed.

My worries were not gone. In fact—they were worse—the more I grew to care for Huu-goh. But my love for him was stronger. And I refused to keep him prisoner. I wanted to see him thrive. To see the things he could create. To give him every opportunity I could. And sometimes that meant he might touch or be around dangerous objects, and I would have to be at peace with that.

And there was no better gift I could give the person I loved than time with Ushuu.

“We would be honored,” I said softly. “And I trust you.”

Ushuu’s spots were a pale, beautiful pink, shining with affection as he leaned in close to bump our snouts together.

“Thank you,” he said. “I am proud of you, Roark,” Ushuu added. “It is one thing to jump into water without knowing the dangers that lie beneath the surface. It is another to be afraid of such things, but to dive in anyway.”

I nodded.

“You cannot stop bad things from happening,” Ushuu murmured, his eyes still meeting mine. “And it is incredibly brave of you to choose to love even after what you’ve seen can happen.”

I pressed into the embrace, tendrils slipping free to melt with Ushuu’s as his words washed warm over my body.

“You’ll be alright,” Ushuu promised before stepping back, his tendrils untangling from mine. “And so will he.”

“I know,” I nodded. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I did my best to control my spots. “I’ll be back tonight?” I offered, eager to learn more. “Maybe you can help me come up with more ideas to please him.”

Sighing in amusement, Ushuu shook his head fondly. “Take a break tonight. Besides, if you want to please him, why not accept one of the invitations? You could speak to him then. Get a reprieve from the stress on board. Hell, you could let it be a ‘date’.”

Human mates went on things called “dates” when they were courting. It was something Huu-goh would understand, and might even appreciate.

It was a lovely idea. I blinked, thoughts whirring.

Every time we stopped at Sha’hPihn to collect our cargo and refuel we received an influx of invitations to galas, balls, and parties. Many had a steep price to attend, and I had no doubt the interest in us Sahrks coming had to do with the exorbitant ticket fees and donations that were expected at the events.

I was not unused to being treated as a giant pink wallet—it was exactly what had happened when I’d bought back Huu-goh’s rights. Many species looked at Sahrk and saw money signs dangling over our heads. I had been invited to hundreds, maybe thousands of events but this was the first time I’d ever been tempted to attend, for one simple reason.

There were translators at those parties.

And for one night…

For one perfect night Huu-goh and I would be able to speak to one another.

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I leaned down to give Ushuu another happy nuzzle, giddy now that I had a plan. “You are brilliant as always, old man,” I grinned.

He snorted, slapping me on the back. “That’s why you pay me,” he shrugged, downplaying his own brilliance with a grin of his own. The smack was lighter than it should’ve been, and once again, I was reminded of his age.

I’d have to talk to Naideen when I got home to make sure there was room for Ushuu at the manor. It was the least I could do after all he’d done for me over the years.

“ Brilliant !” I repeated as I gathered Huu-goh’s box against my chest, headed toward the door, and tapped the buttons on the access panel with my tentacles. With a woosh I was free, striding down the hallway with purpose as Ushuu’s idea settled in the back of my mind.

“Captain,” one of the two subordinates I passed in the hallway greeted. Bahrn. A young recruit.

“Evening, Bahrn,” I replied on autopilot, my head in the clouds. He stiffened, saluted, and beamed at me.

“He knows my name!” he said to Giren, the recruit who stood beside him.

“Of course he knows your name, idiot. He knows everyone’s name.”

I hid my smile, though I was amused as I continued down the winding halls toward our rooms.

There was a reason I’d followed in Captain Strongfoot’s footsteps and hired half my crew young and scrappy. He had taught me, in many ways, that a person’s worth was not determined by their lineage, but by the opportunities they were given, and the people who believed in them.

Plus, the young were endlessly entertaining. Full of life in a way I hadn’t been in years. Until Huu-goh became mine, anyway.

However, even my adorable subordinates could not hold my attention for long. No. As always, my mind flitted back to my mate and the plan I was piecing together. Ideas slipped like puzzle pieces into place.

There were many moving parts to it, of course.

His safety would need to be my number one priority. Sha’hPihn wasn’t like the rural planets we’d visited before. It was full of as many unsavory people as F’ukYuu was. Though they liked to hide their depravity behind gemstones and storefronts—it was dangerous in its own way.

But…Huu-goh would adore it.

I already knew that.

And there were things we could get him there—that I couldn’t get him back home.

Perhaps I could buy him a new journal so that he could fill it with more of his findings? The thought made me giddy. He could have a HoverPad of his own too. A communicator. Clothing he’d chosen himself. His pick of any hobby he desired.

And I could get the damn collar off of him.

We’d need to go to a jeweler to do it—but?—

Oh.

Suddenly, memories of how he’d lit up when he’d seen the gems on our first off-planet visit came to mind. Yes . I could replace it with something he’d love. Something that was a symbol of his freedom—and not his sacrifice.

Something Huu-goh thought was pretty.

Something that made his pearly teeth smile.

That made his dark eyes dance.

Something that made him feel valued, the way he deserved to feel.

Covered in his colorful clothes—clothes he’d picked on his own—Huu-goh would find solid footing in a way he hadn’t before. He’d get to choose for himself. Autonomy that I hoped would make his life brighter—and maybe, just maybe, at the ball I could tell him what he meant to me. We could speak candidly like we should’ve the day we met.

I would get to know him on an entirely new level.

And maybe then, I could summon the courage to tell him how glad I was that he’d picked me. That he’d crossed the line that I’d been scared to. I could tell him how I admired him. I could hold him. Could touch him, the way we both craved—and speak to him at the same time.