Saturday, June 17, 2017

Star Talker: Part 2: What's a goat?

Three Lo'Rahni males stood just inside the doorway of the vault. They were tall, the whole lot of them two meters tall or better. They were humanoid, for the most part. They had skin the color of deep cinnamon similar to the Terrans who descended from the desert regions of Earth, only with a shimmer of gold that gleamed in the bright fluorescent lights. Each had a set of horns sprouting from their foreheads, protrusions of bone that curled and twisted in the fashion of a Terran ram. The most striking feature of their species, aside from the amber eyes, were the additional set of arms each sported.

The one in the center was the shortest of the three, muscular. His hair fell in black braids around his shoulders, his horns spiraling back around his head like a crown. He raked his golden gaze over me and snorted.

"I didn't know Terrans hissed," he said, crossing his lower set of arms.

"They don't," said a thinner man to his right. I recognized him as one of the scientists from a delegation we'd met with several months ago.

The first man chuckled. "A little warrior then?"

"A bit plump for a warrior," said the final man with a snort.

I jabbed the knife in his direction. "Fuck you, you hulking goat!"

He blinked with surprise. "She speaks our language?"

The shorter man furrowed his brow. "What's a goat?"

"A goat is a horned animal on Terra, used for milk and meat," said the scientist. "That is Selena. The Terrans' translator."

The shorter man grinned. "How useful. Take her and put her with the other females."

The rude one strode toward me. I slashed with the plasma knife. He cried out as I made contact with one of his arms. I backed away, holding the knife up, clutching the Arkiv to my chest. My back met the hard flesh of a man. I yelped and whipped around, knife high. Large hands gripped my hips while a third gripped my wrist and the other easily pried the knife from my fingers. Why did they have to have so many damned hands? It was the man with the spiral horns and braids.

"I admire your courage, but we both know you can't win this battle, girl."

He tossed the knife aside and reached for the Arkiv. I twisted and bit the arm closest to my face. His brow furrowed, nostrils flaring. His free hand landed sharply on my left cheek. I blinked, pain blooming in my skin. There hadn't been much force behind it, just enough to smart, but I had little doubt he could have easily broken my neck if he wanted to. However, I knew from studying their language and from conversations with their people that he wouldn't despite the bodies decorating the once immaculate floors of the facility.

"I would advise," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "that you cooperate. This could go far worse for you, but, then, you know that, don't you?"

I lifted my chin. "I keep the tablet."

He arched a brow. "You are not in a place to negotiate."

"I'm not negotiating. I am going to cooperate. I'm also keeping my tablet." I gripped it tighter. "It's my work. You can't read it or likely translate it. You have no use for it."

He snorted. "You think we couldn't find another Terran translator to decipher your little computer?"

I stared him straight in the eye. "There are roughly seven thousand Terran languages, modern and extinct. Have fun figuring out first what language my notes are in, and then trying to find another linguist who is not only familiar with Terran languages, but with the subset of languages my notes are in. The odds of a non-Terran linguist being able to translate it are infinitesimal, and given what I saw on the cameras a few minutes ago, I really doubt you're going to get you're hands on another Terran linguist."

There was an uncomfortably long silence.

"I thought you were a xenolinguist?"

I looked at the scientist. I suddenly remembered his name was Korath. "All exoplanetary linguists are xenolinguists, but a girl has to have hobbies."

My captor closed his eyes and winced as if I had given him a headache. "Fine. You keep the tablet." He tossed me over his shoulder, gripping my ankles with one hand and planting the other on my ass.

"Is this really necessary?" I said, now eye level with the toned muscles beneath his black trousers.

He gave my ass a little pat. "Let's see, you attacked my man with a plasma knife and bit me, and I haven't beaten you yet. You really going to complain?"

I stayed silent. Mostly because the "yet" hung in the air like a menacing promise.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


  1. I wonder what the captors are planning to do to her...

    Rebel xox

  2. Whoa! I have to go find part one. I'm with Marie, looking forward to part three.

  3. Great story so far. Enjoying it a lot.

  4. interesting and I can't wait to see what comes next