1. Marooned

ONE

MAROONED

Faktil quo Laus

Faktil's lungs burned and the salt water stung his nostrils as he regained consciousness. He suppressed the urge to tug in a deep breath, despite the shock of the cold water and the desperate need to breathe. Thank the goddess, his training kicked in or he would've inhaled a lungful of water. That would've been a show stopper. Faktil struggled to reach the surface, the question of how he got here taking a back seat to survival. His lungs burned as his arms and legs churned through the water, fighting against the undertow trying to tug him deeper. Stars erupted in front of his eyes from the lack of oxygen. Then instinctually he tugged in a breath, realizing he'd broken through the surface, and those were actually stars in the sky above.

Coughing and sputtering, he choked up water and possibly a lung, then pulled in another desperate breath. It took several breaths and almost being dragged under again before he got his bearings.

Goddess, what in perdition happened ?

Faktil treaded water, glaring in confusion at the ocean and then the sky above.

Did I crash?

That was a stupid question. He must've crashed on the planet, that was the only explanation.

Faktil dove down, trying to peer into the water. Except it was a waste of time. Inky blackness was all he could see. His cruiser had obviously sunk well out of reach by now, but a warrior had to try.

"Torment!" he snarled when he surfaced again.

This didn't make sense. Faktil's brow furrowed in confusion. He'd just been aboard the Jurou Biljana cruiser. Or maybe he'd been approaching the reptile ship. That part he could clearly picture.

So how did I end up here?

He'd been maneuvering his stolen cruiser through the enemy fleet. To suddenly find himself in a foreign ocean was insane. No habitable planets were nearby the fleet. They weren't even near Earth's solar system, though that was probably the closest hospitable world.

I can't possibly be on Earth. Faktil's eyes widened as the notion gripped him. That would mean he really was off course. He took another deep breath of the obviously breathable air. What were the odds?

"Oh, something got fouled," he muttered.

Faktil brushed his wet hair out of his face and winced at the tender lump on his temple, then resumed treading water again. He'd hit his head at some point. That probably explained why things were foggy.

Disoriented is better than dead.

At the moment it didn't matter how he got here. If he didn't find dry land he was as good as dead. He'd die from dehydration with nothing but salt water all around him. Or he'd get attacked and eaten by some creature. Faktil pulled his tail close, coiling it around his waist rather than letting it drag behind him like a tasty morsel.

Focus! He couldn't let his mind run away with him. He needed to remember his training.

Faktil peered into the night looking for anything on the horizon. Luckily the moon was full, so he had a great view of…

Absolutely nothing. Faktil's stomach sank.

It would put a real kink in his tail if he was fortunate enough to reach a habitable planet and survive the crash, only to die stranded in the middle of a foreign ocean. Faktil kicked, turning in a circle, studying the horizon.

Is that something? He wiped the water from his eyes.

The moon reflected off the water, practically highlighting the dark mass a metra ahead.

It has to be land. He was almost certain he saw trees and a large hill or mountain peak.

Faktil started swimming toward the mass. The tide made progress painfully slow. No matter how hard he swam, the dark land mass seemed just as far away. Eventually his toes hit porous, sharp rock beneath the water and he dared to look up to gauge his progress.

Thank the goddess!

The shore was only a score of paces in front of him. Eagerly, he swam, then waded, avoiding the dark rocks, and finally collapsed on the shore.

"Thank you," he muttered, practically burying his face in the sand as he worshiped the beach .

Naomi

"Storm! Shit! Storm! Fuck!" the parrot squawked as it landed on the foot of the bed.

"I never should've taught you to cuss, Bandit," Naomi groaned as her eyes cracked open and she focused on the bird in the moonlit room.

She hadn't actually taught Bandit to cuss, not intentionally. It was something he picked up all on his own…from her. She had a potty mouth, but it wasn't like there was anyone else on the island to offend. Still, she felt like a bad bird momma when Bandit cussed. If they ever made it back to civilization, her Potty-Mouth-Polly wasn't going to go over well.

Naomi panned to the nearby window. There was no flicker of lightning or crack of thunder, though that didn't necessarily mean it wasn't storming. She pulled herself out of the old twin bed, plodded to the window, and peered out. The tangled branches of the banyan trees and the fronds on the palms were calm. If a tropical storm had hit the island the trees would be whipping around like they were possessed, except the sky was tranquil.

Her gaze swung back to the parrot fluttering around the one-room cabin. The red and green plumage covering Bandit was standing up. Something was definitely wrong.

"It doesn't look like a storm. Do you mean danger?" she asked her feathered friend, her only friend.

Ever since the hurricane last year, storm and danger were synonymous to the parrot. She couldn't blame Bandit. It had been a very bad storm and much of the island flooded. Frankly, after surviving that hurricane, storm and danger were synonymous in her mind, too.

"Danger! Shit! Danger!" Bandit amended, practically careening into the black pipe jutting up from the cast iron cookstove.

"Okay. Relax, Potty-Mouth-Polly. You're going to hurt yourself." Naomi patted her shoulder, encouraging Bandit to land.

The bird landed, gripping her shoulder tight.

"Easy. Don't maim me." She reached up and tapped Bandit's talons until they loosened, then ruffled the bird's chest. "Now, what's wrong?" She peered back out the window. "Are those wild pigs back?"

"Bad pig," Bandit hissed. The vehemence almost made her snort. "Bad pig, No-me," as he tended to call her.

It wasn't quite dawn, and the moon was still bright, so she could see pretty well. Her gaze roved from the tool shed, over the firepit in the middle of the packed-dirt courtyard, to the outhouse. She then surveyed the edge of the tropical forest that surrounded the little compound. There was no movement, and the wild boars weren't known for their stealth. The last time they raided her camp, they knocked over the drying rack and made off with a whole day's catch.

Naomi cast a sideways glance at Bandit perched on her shoulder. He was mimicking her, peering out the window with comically large worried eyes. She suppressed a snort. Bandit had a gregarious personality. Without him, she'd have been very lonely over the last year. Her thoughts drifted to the day she discovered she was stranded on the island.

Naomi startled awake in her kayak.

I can't believe I dozed off. She groaned in disbelief as she unfolded herself. I was lucky I didn't roll the kayak.

At least that would've instantly roused her. She couldn't believe how foolish she'd been. There were worse things than a rousing dip in the water.

At that thought, Naomi quickly looked up. She sighed in relief seeing the rocky shore. Thankfully, she'd washed into a tide pool instead of out to sea.

Thank you. Her shoulders eased.

This leisurely trip around the bay was supposed to be relaxing, but not fall asleep mid-paddle relaxing.

That's just crazy!

Fuck! Maybe I've got heat stroke. Naomi quickly patted her skin and put the back of her hand to her forehead. She sighed when everything felt fine. I'm just tired.

Apparently working the last two weeks straight exhausted her more than she realized. They were preparing for reaccreditation and there had been two big corporate events at the hotel. As acting manager, it was her job to see to their every whim. But rather than letting her do the job, the executives had to give input on every detail for the different events. Then there were the high-maintenance clients. Her favorite was that the ballroom was too hot and too cold, both complaints received at the same time. And what was her reward for all her hard work? Yesterday, at the end of the day, she got notice the manager job she'd been busting her butt for went to some man from an affiliate property. It was no wonder she'd nodded off on her little trip around the bay. She was sick and tired of the bullshit—the emphasis on tired.

Well, I'm damn lucky I didn't wash out to sea.

Naomi incredulously shook her head, reeled in the paddle that was thankfully tethered to the kayak and started paddling. The tide was high enough the bottom of her boat didn't scrape the rock much as she maneuvered out of the rocky alcove. She paddled south, keeping close to the shore. She traveled at an easy pace for half an hour but didn't recognize where she was at all.

Shit! How far did I drift? Her brow furrowed.

The current ran in a north-westerly direction, so as long as she traveled the other way around the shore, she'd eventually reach Hilo Bay again.

Boy, how wrong she'd been.

Naomi rounded what was too big to be a mere hill, yet too small to be a full-fledged mountain, and continued paddling. The compass on her bracelet said she was now going north. She studied the coast, her view unencumbered. In the distance the shoreline dodged to the right again.

This must be a peninsula.

She paddled on for another hour, and as the midday sun hammered down on her it started to sink in just how lost she was.

But she didn't know the half of it. She still thought she was up-coast on the mainland.

I'll stop at the first promising sign, she told herself.

Naomi continued up the beach, not seeing any signs of civilization. Eventually, she reached the other end of the coast. She got out of her kayak and walked the blue boat across the stretch of sandy beach poking out into the ocean. She reached the other side of the narrow beach, and was about to plunk her kayak back into the water when she froze, her gaze riveted to the shoreline.

"It's… It's…" She started to hyperventilate, her heart thundering in her chest.

This wasn't a peninsula, it was an island. She could see the stretch of coastline where she'd awoken, and the summit at the south end.

"Oh god!"

Naomi blinked as she focused on the view outside the cabin window. Somehow, she'd drifted way off course, landing on one of the many small islands that made up the Hawaiian archipelago. The best she could figure, this was a wildlife preserve. In college, she'd spent the winter holiday on Kure Atoll with her friend Michelle. Michelle was studying to be a wildlife biologist and volunteered to help with an albatross nesting survey. She was studying business, but she'd volunteered to go and help with clean-up. Clearing out the trash that washed ashore was hard work and the accommodations were far from glamorous.

They were about like this.

Her gaze panned the little cabin, with its cast-iron cookstove, wooden table and chairs, shelves, and metal-framed bed.

This place was meant for one biologist and one biologist only. She stared pointedly at the narrow twin bed. She couldn't bad mouth it, though, the mattress was actually very comfortable, and a hell of a lot better than the floor.

"Bad pig," Bandit hissed again, reminding her of why they were standing at the window.

"I don't see a pig, Bandit."

Naomi quickly reviewed Bandit's vocabulary. The parrot communicated the way a toddler would with a limited list of words. It made figuring out what he really meant a bit like a game of charades. The game was usually entertaining, though not necessarily this early in the morning.

"Do you mean seal?" Naomi tilted her head.

She didn't see a seal, but the last time one came ashore Bandit also called it a pig.

"Bad pig," Bandit reiterated.

"Relax. Easy. I'm sure it will be okay," she said.

Though she was still clueless about what had the parrot riled, it didn't look like the sky was falling or the cabin was under attack. Usually, she'd let Bandit lead her to whatever had him excited, and generally it wasn't a dire emergency. But it was just too early to go on a wild goose chase .

The issue could actually be a wild goose. Or a Nene, as they called them on the islands.

She suppressed a snort at the little joke, then sobered seeing Bandit was still agitated.

"You want snuggles?" She distracted the bird. Bandit let her pull him off her shoulder and cradle him on his back like a baby. "I appreciate you coming to warn me. Mahalo." She ruffled the feathers on Bandit's belly. "You're such a good boy and I'm glad we found each other," she cooed.

"Good boy," Bandit trilled.

"Will a piece of fruit make the problem go away?"

"Fruit Bandit, good boy." Bandit excitedly squirmed as she continued tickling him.

"I thought that might help, fuzz butt," she chuckled.

Bandit showed up shortly after she arrived on the island. She'd been slicing up some mountain apple when the parrot landed and casually stole a piece of fruit. More amused than offended, she watched him steal piece after piece then fly into the trees to watch her while he ate the pilfered treat. When he swooped in for the fifth time, she simply held out the morsel and declared, ‘here you go, Fruit Bandit.' Between thievery and his red feather mask, the name seemed appropriate. That was the start of a friendship that she desperately needed. There was no one else on the island and she'd started going a little loopy on her own.

"I'm very lucky, indeed," she informed the bird with a grin. "I'm going to turn the light on." She covered Bandit's eyes and squinted as she flipped on the switch.

The ceiling fan and light, powered by the solar panels on the shed, were other things she was lucky to have. The island she landed on could've been barren, or she could've been marooned in the middle of the ocean.

Slowly she lifted her hand from Bandit's eyes .

"Peek-a-boo," Bandit cheeped.

Naomi burst into laughter. "That's right, peek-a-boo." She giggled and set him on the table then grabbed a banana off the shelf.

"Oooh ooh ooh, ba-nan-nuh, banana," Bandit happily sang and did a bobbing dance while she peeled the fruit.

Her cheeks hurt she was grinning so hard at his antics. Bandit's commentary stopped as he grabbed and ate the chunk she offered him. Naomi took a bite of the banana then offered him more.

"Well, I need to go to the bathroom," she informed the bird once they'd finished the fruit.

Bandit was instantly up and flapping toward the door. "No! Bad pig!" The parrot blocked the lone exit.

"So, we're back to this." Naomi smirked. "I'm not peeing in here on the floor."

Still Bandit flapped in front of the door. Casually, she walked across the room, grabbed her white button-down shirt off the bedpost and put it on over her tank top. It wasn't really a tank top, it was the top half of her swimsuit, but now it had to play several roles. It also acted as her bra, while the bottoms were now her panties. When she went kayaking that fateful day, the weather was mild, and she'd been wearing a pair of khaki capris and the long-sleeved cotton shirt over her swimsuit. Sometimes, when it was especially cold, she wished she'd worn socks with her sandals, but that was never an okay fashion statement.

"Oh, well," she sighed while pulling on her pants.

Despite how much she whined about being chilly at night in the cold season, she wouldn't honestly freeze to death, not in this part of the world. Plus, the wood-burning stove helped if it got especially frigid .

"I wonder how people in Alaska would feel about what I think is cold?" She tugged on her sandals.

Bandit had calmed and was sitting on the window sill by the door watching her. He simply blinked at the question.

"They'd probably think I'm a wimp." She leisurely walked over to him.

Without saying anything further about leaving, she grabbed the doorknob, swiftly opened the door and walked out. Bandit squawked and quickly followed her onto the porch and across the dirt courtyard.

"Bad pig. Bad pig!" Bandit kept screeching, looking all around.

"I don't understand. I'm looking for it, but I don't see what you're talking about." She tried speaking logically to the bird.

The courtyard was lit by the moonlight, but still, there wasn't anything there. She peered into the trees where it was much darker, yet saw nothing.

"Bad pig! Bad pig," Bandit continued until she reached the outhouse at the edge of the clearing.

"When I get done, we'll figure it out," she promised then quickly went into the outhouse to do her business in peace.

Faktil quo Laus

Faktil lay on the sandy beach catching his breath.

"Ow," he barked as something nipped his calf. "Oh hey!" Something then snapped at his tail, while another pinched his arm.

His gaze swiveled to see what was by his arm and caught sight of a round, reddish-brown creature smaller than his hand posturing aggressively with its pincer claws. His eyes widened, spotting another, and another, and another in the dim light. Faktil leapt to his feet and turned in a circle. There were nearly two dozen of the hard-shelled beasties coming at him from every angle.

Apparently, I've been lying here long enough that I look like a good meal. He chuckled as he dusted the sand off. Though, he probably shouldn't be laughing given the dire circumstances he found himself in.

"But I survived, so that puts me ahead," Faktil reasoned. "Sorry you're out a meal." He leapt over the advancing horde of pinching menaces.

"Ow. Whoa!" One of the crabs managed to catch his heel just as he was clearing the mob.

As he danced away from the rotten little beast, it occurred to him he'd lost his boots somewhere.

Did I kick them off while trying to swim free of the wreck?

Faktil's brow furrowed in confusion.

What happened and how in Vrag's name did I get here? he questioned while heading toward the edge of the forest, hoping to evade the crabs on the beach. The Jurou Biljana must've discovered I was trying to infiltrate their ship.

A very long chase must have ensued. The two-man cruiser he piloted hadn't been equipped with rift drive or hyper-speed tech, so it would've taken at least three days at top speed to reach Earth.

That's a lot of time to forget.

Faktil rubbed the bump above his temple, just inside his hairline. It was crusty from dried blood. He must have hit his head hard if he couldn't recall several days.

Panic struck and Faktil's gaze shot to the sky. If he wrecked, there had to be a cause.

Please tell me I didn't lead those slaving bastards straight to Earth. His heart thudded in his chest .

"No. I wouldn't have done that." He adamantly shook his head.

Maybe I was chasing an enemy cruiser. That seemed far more logical.

His breathing eased, knowing that even in the face of danger he wouldn't have been so foolish as to lead the reptiles here. It had to be the other way around. He would've hunted the enemy over the span of days and taken them out, even if it meant ramming them with his own cruiser. His gaze shifted from the sky to the ocean, praying that somewhere in its watery depths there was a Jurou Biljana cruiser and its dead scaly pilot.

Regardless of how he got here, he needed to hail his people and report in. He reached for his bicep only to discover his comm wasn't there. Frantically he surveyed himself. Apparently, the only thing he managed to salvage was the vestment wrapped around his waist. He didn't even have a single weapon strapped to his belt. Faktil turned back toward the spot he'd come ashore, hoping something, anything lay there. Except there was nothing but a few crabs still canvassing the sand.

"Shit!" he snarled, tossing up his hands in frustration and disgust.

My evacuation had to be an unexpected emergency . It had to be, otherwise he'd have a disrupter and blade attached to his belt and his communicator strapped to his arm. Except that didn't seem to fit with a chase spanning several days.

Faktil frowned as he scoured his brain for even the faintest memory of what might have happened. He hadn't been knocked entirely senseless in the crash. He remembered who he was, his presentation season, his sisters, parents, and friends like Thorac.

"I just can't recall the crash. "

Well, I'm here now. He had to make the best of the situation since he had no way to reach out to his people.

His eyes widened as he remembered something. Faktil reached up, hunting for the special bead woven into his hair. The subitis was small, but a handy bit of equipment for emergency situations like this. The nano-tech could reprogram any communication device, even primitive human technology.

"Thank you," he let out the relieved sigh, feeling that the bead was still there. He was damn lucky their allies shared the bit of tech with his people. It was going to save his tail.

Now I just need a communicator. From what he understood it was common technology among humans.

Faktil turned one way then the other, looking up and down the beach. Granted it wasn't yet dawn, but he could see well enough to note there was nothing in either direction. That made acquiring the human technology more than a little difficult.

"Are you kidding me?!" he snarled at yet another obstacle.

He huffed then froze as something through the trees captured his attention. Maybe he'd spoken too soon.

Is that a light? It certainly looked like it, and it hadn't been there a moment ago.

He tilted his head and took a step between the winding branches of the trees to get a better look. Sure enough, it was a light coming from somewhere inside the rainforest.

Where there's artificial light, there's civilization. He headed toward the source.