ray's place

Once inside, she was met with the glorious warmth and stillness of the centre, lit only by the greenish glow of the exit signs. Outside, the weather raged on like a beast knowing its prey was just out of reach. She shuddered at the sudden shift in temperature, keen to lose her thick coat and reacclimatise to heat.

She wandered through the visitor’s centre, which marked the public-facing part of the building, with the ranger offices through the back. Usually the building would be locked at this hour, but Lilah knew she was coming and had left the front open.

With the wind beating at the windows and the trees outside blocking any other lights, the usually joyful welcome centre, full of bright colours, huge murals of local wildlife, and, of course, a gift shop was now dark and shadowy.

Still, Dani continued. This was far from her first night at the centre and would be far from her last. If anything, the eeriness made her smile. Lilah told her once that, during closing one day, she’d screamed after mistaking one of the t-shirt manakins for an intruder. She’d shot up another meter in height before she was able to get it under control.

Dani nodded in reverence to the manakin in question as she passed it.

When she got to the back, she jabbed in the key-code she shouldn’t know and used her shoulder to open the glass doors to the offices. The rangers’ office was at the end of the hall. The door was open, spilling yellow-gold light into the hungry dark. From where she stood, it looked like the gentle glow of a fireplace and it beckoned to her.

Despite Lilah knowing she was coming, and knowing her ETA, and there being no one else in the building, Dani made a point to make herself known as she walked down the hallway and knocked on the door to the rangers’ office, peaking her head in to spy her girlfriend.

Lilah, who’d been feverishly typing at her desk, looked up and immediately grinned, whatever stress that had her brows planted was gone. Dani’s chest glowed at the sight.

“I thought I said in the delivery notes you could just leave the order at the door?” Lilah said, standing and making her way towards Dani, who’d dropped everything in her hands on the nearest available surface (a small round table near to the centre of the room) and was shirking her coat, enjoying the blessed heat.

“Well, we like to go above and beyond for our most loyal custo-” She said, but before she could continue, she felt Lilah’s hands slip around her waist from behind and turn her around. The taller girl’s lips found hers and any other joke was forgotten.

Lilah pulled back, her arms still firmly wrapped around Dani. She was dressed in her usual work clothes, all shades of greens, browns and kakis. Her long hair was braided back away from her face, and Dani could feel where the keycard at her hip dug into her stomach.

“Your skin is so cold!”

“I know!” Dani said. “I was only out there for a second and still I feel like I need to defrost.”

“Let me help.”

She laughed as Lilah enveloped her. Her girlfriend rested her head on Dani’s shoulder and Dani rolled her eyes, smiling as she ran her nails up and down Lilah’s back.

“Long day, love?” She asked.

“A million years, if you’d believe it.” Lilah replied, her voice muffled by Dani’s shoulder.

“I do. I’ve brought Thai.”

Lilah hummed, it was a sweet, low sound that unravelled Dani from the centre. “You always know how to make it better.”

“It’s my job. Now, get off me so I can reheat it.”

Lilah whined as Dani shrugged her off. She grabbed the Thai and took it over to the small kitchenette. It was a skeleton kitchen (the more elaborate being in the shared cafeteria) but the rangers were content with a kettle, fridge, and microwave, seeing the rest as an unnecessary expense. It made Dani think of the barista her firm hired to make their coffees, the elaborate “back-up” espresso machine they had for when the barista had gone home for the day, the instant hot and hold taps, the snacks left out in the kitchen. Looking at the kettle that needed a pep talk in order to work and the microwave that looked like a vintage prop in what was otherwise a newly-renovated facility, she smiled.

Lilah said her boss James had insisted they didn’t waste money on “any new-fangled fancy appliances” during the renovation when their old stuff “worked just fine”. She’d been surprised to find most of the rangers agreed with him.

“We don’t spend a lot of time in the office. We pop in and out throughout the day. If we can make tea and reheat our lunch, that’s really all we need.”

She put the Thai in the microwave and turned around, resting back against the bench top. Lilah had wondered back to her desk and was bent over her laptop, frowning again.

“So,” she said, shaking Lilah’s focus. “What made your day so bad? Was it the intern?”

Lilah started some meandering protest but Dani cut her off. She’d heard this before. They’d recently hired an intern who was more useless than pulling a name badge on one of the trees outside and putting it on the payroll. At least the tree would add some value.

Lilah, with a level of patience Dani would never mirror, routinely took time out of her schedule to help him, telling Dani she wished she’d had a superior look out for her when she’d first started.

Dani, whose first boss had thrown her in the deep end and told her to learn to swim or drown, thought there was a difference between mentoring and hand-holding, but had given up pushing the point. Lately, Lilah’s tack had changed and Dani’s seen her become more and more agitated at and about work.

She’d realised, long after everyone else on her team except their boss, that their intern TJ was not stupid or naive, he just didn’t care. And that, to Lilah, was the true cardinal sin.

“Ugh,” Lilah groaned, leaning in her chair and lolling her eyes back. “He’s useless! I can’t stand him. And no matter how much we raise it with James, he doesn’t do anything. According to him, TJ’s only here on student placement so we should just see out the semester. But I don’t know if any of us can last that long.”

The microwave pinged behind Dani and she started unloading it.

“You should just shift and scare the shit out of him. Or better yet, leave him at the top of a tree and let him find his own way down.”

Behind her, Lilah laughed.

“Tempting. But I’m not that mean.”

“You could be, that’s my point.” Dani said. “I feel like you’re not using your abilities to their full potential. The way I’d abuse that power to get my way -“

“You say that,” Lilah said. “But you’re such a bleeding heart, love, you wouldn’t know how.”

“For TJ, I’d find a way.”

She took the Thai, now pleasantly steaming, over to the round table. It was intended to be a lunch table though most of the rangers preferred to eat outside (except for the truly terrible weather like today). Most of the time it was empty, and the chairs around it were decorative.

“Now, come eat.”

---

Lilah looked up at her girlfriend from her desk. They’d eaten and caught up about their respective days, talking at length about nothing in particular in the way they often did. Just Dani’s presence had a way of calming her heart, refocusing her. She’d spent a long day gritting her teeth, her body near-constantly on the brink of a shift. Everything TJ did and said seemed to drive her closer and closer to explosion. At one point, she’d had to exit the building and shadow herself in the trees in a desperate attempt to stave off a rapid shift.

By the end of the day her body was exhausted and her mind drained. The moment TJ left for the day was only second best to Dani’s arrival.

She walked through the door and suddenly, the stresses of her day were no longer these huge herculean beasts, they could be picked up and tucked away in their proper place and left alone. She wondered if Dani knew the implicit effect she had, or if she walked about the world oblivious to the fact she made it that much easier to live in.

After dinner, she’d apologised. There were a few tasks that needed doing before she logged off. Dani didn’t mind. She’d wandered back to the car and grabbed a book to read. It was a rare sight and she was surprised to see she hadn’t used the opportunity as a chance to continue with her own work. That was until she admitted to Lilah that her laptop was on the fritz and she’d had leave it with IT overnight.

So instead of working, Dani was curled up on a chair in the corner, quietly reading, letting the time pass by unbothered. She could have been at home, showered, in bed, prepped for an early start in the morning. Instead she was here, keeping her company.

“Ok,” Lilah said, almost regretful to break the peace. Dani looked up from the page but otherwise didn’t move. “I just need to check one thing and then we can head.”

“Whenever you’re ready, love.” Dani said and returned to reading.

Lilah nodded.

She’d told TJ a week ago that there was an 8th birthday party happening tomorrow and he needed to prep for it - arrange the itinerary, flag with the high-ropes course staff, allocate a ranger to lead the “wilderness adventure”, organise the goodie bags, ensure waivers were signed before the day, clean and decorate the events room, etc. The usual motions for when they hosted children’s birthdays. In an ideal world, that wouldn’t be the job of the rangers to organise but apparently all the funding had gone to the building upgrade rather than hiring any other staff.

She’d reminded him the yesterday and he’d waved her off (almost causing another shift). She just needed to check that everything was good to go.

She looked on the ranger allocations tomorrow and found they were all fully allocated for the day (including herself) but there was no one on the birthday. Her heart stopped and then picked up again in double-time. She closed the spreadsheet and looked at the high-ropes bookings - fully booked, no birthday group. She closed her eyes and forced a shaky breath in and out of her lungs, she could feel her body heating up.

“Shit.” She muttered. She thought it was quiet but it was loud enough that Dani frowned and looked up again.

“Everything ok?”

“No.” Lilah said, she stood up from her desk, blood pumping loudly. The signs were creeping up on her but she was took angry and stressed to notice. “I have to check something.”

She stormed out of the office without another word, barged through the welcome centre with a fury and entered the public cafe. On the other side of the cafe was a door leading to their private functions room. It was a beautiful space, with walls of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the trees. For children’s birthdays, should be brightly decorated with goodie bags ready and waiting for the kids. There should be the “Ranger for a Day” badge awaiting the birthday girl alongside an adventure passport for each of the kids.

It had better all be there.

She slammed her hand down on the door handle and opened the function room to find it a blank and empty canvas - not even a single chair had been pulled from storage. Outside the stormy weather picked up ferocity and the trees were raging in the wild winds. But all Lilah could see was her own reflection staring back at her, deadly. The blood was pounding in her ears and her skin pricked. He hadn’t done it. Any of it. She told him, time and time again and he hadn’t done it. She’d been patient. She’d explained the process. This was the only task she was actually willing to give him on and he still hadn’t done it.

She took a few steps into the room. It was big enough for small functions, big enough that the thud of her books echoed on the floor and bounced off the walls. By the time her slow walk had taken her to the centre of the room, her clenched fists had left deep crescent moons where her nails dug into the skin. Her jaw was tight, despite the cold in the unheated room, she sweated beneath her uniform. She could feel her body begging for release and it was all she could do not to let it.

“Nice room.” Came Dani’s voice from the doorway. “I don’t think I’ve been in here before. Oh wait, yes I have, right? For the Christmas party. It looks so different empty.”

Lilah didn’t look at her, she could only stare forwards as her anger compounded. But she could hear Dani make her way into the room and walk towards the window. From her periphery she was aware of Dani spying out the drop below.

In order to attract more bookings, the events room overhung a small depression in the landscape. The room was suspended about 15 or so metres over the drop counter-levered by the rest of the building on the ground. The effect was that anyone in the room would feel as though they were truly immersed in the wild.

“It shouldn’t be empty.” Lilah managed, jaw tight.

“What?”

“It shouldn’t be empty.” She repeated, this time louder, with more force. Her fingers tingled. “I told TJ. I told him so many times. We have a birthday tomorrow and each time - EACH. TIME. - he blows me off, like ‘it’s fine, Delilah, I know’. But guess what? He’s done shit all. They’re coming at 9am tomorrow and the room’s not ready, none of the rangers have been told and we’re all at capacity, the high ropes is fully booked and won’t be able to take a group of 20 kids at the last minute - obviously!” Her face was getting hot. “And I just know he hasn’t had any of the waivers signed by the parents. And now I have to stay back even later to fix it! What a fuc-“

She grew. Only a metre or so but it was enough to shock her out of her rant. Her heart trembled as her blood got hotter and hotter. Despite herself, there was a cruel relief in the sensation.

She looked at Dani whose eyes were wide. Obviously, she’d noticed too. It’s hard to miss when your girlfriend is suddenly double your height. Lilah’s head now only just missed the ceiling.

This was all still new for both of them. Lilah was unused to being seen in a shift, to looming so far above anyone - let alone Dani. For Dani’s part, she was determined to prove the sudden shifts - Lilah’s unexplained and unexpected growth of anywhere between a few inches to a few metres - didn’t bother her. But Lilah knew. She knew Dani. Already she was on high alert.

Her girlfriend was taking small steps towards her, hands out in either a placating or defensive gesture (maybe both).

“Li,” She said, caution flooding her tone. “I know this is stressful, and really frustrating. But this isn’t your fault. You don’t have to fix it. Let TJ deal with the consequences of his mistakes.”

Lilah put her head in her hands. She hated this part - the pounding in her head. She needed to get it under control, but she was struggling to focus. Whenever she attempted to calm herself down, the image of TJ’s smug indifference and the eventual conversation she’d have to have with parents in the morning would set her body alight again.

“But why should a child on their birthday have to deal with the consequences of his mistakes? How is that fair?”

Her head hit the ceiling and instinctively she dropped to her knees.

She felt a tiny hand on her thigh. She opened her eyes and there was Dani, already so small, looking up at her. While she was doing her best to keep them level, her girlfriend’s eye betrayed her.

“Li,” She said again. “It’s not fair, but that’s how we learn. That’s how he has to learn. Let’s just calm down and -“

“No,” Lilah interrupted, more forceful than she meant and Dani took a step back. Lilah swallowed. “Wait, sorry, Dani, I meant-“

Before she could finished, her body took over and she started to grow again. Except this time wasn’t a small burst. This time she just kept growing, watching in horror as the space around her grew tighter and tighter. She had enough control as to fold in onto herself to stop her from crashing through the roof, but if she couldn’t stop it, there was not much she could do to prevent that from happening. Plus, what would Dani -

Behind her pounding headache, her thoughts stilled.

Dani.

It was all Dani could do to scramble away in time, her back pressed into the glass corner where two of the windowed walls met. Lilah lifted her head as much as she dared to check she was ok. Her chest was moving rapidly and occasionally, Dani’s glance shifted to the drop outside but Lilah watched in relief to see she was unharmed.

But there was no guarantee that would last.

“Dani, are you ok?”

Before her girlfriend could reply, Lilah’s head swum and she doubled back down, pressing her forehead into the floorboards of the events room. She could feel the walls pressing in as her body hungrily devoured any available space.

“I’m fine!” Dani said in delayed answer, though her voice was strained.

Lilah turned her head (now unable to lift it) and saw her hand was now pressing against Dani’s body, sandwiching her against the glass.

She needs to get out of here.

They were suspended over a drop in a room that was not designed to carry this kind of load. Of course, at this size, the drop would mean nothing to Lilah, but for Dani…

And then what if the room could hold the weight? She might crush her girlfriend if she couldn’t get it together.

“Babe, you need to leave.” She managed. “You need to get out, I can’t stop.”

This was as large as she’d ever shifted in the human world. Usually a bad shift would see her double in height, sometimes triple. But now, she was almost half her natural height and didn’t look to stop.

“Ummm, ok.” Dani swallowed. “Well, love, that might be an issue. You’re blocking the exit.”

The realisation calcified her stomach. Of course Dani was right, if she focussed on it, she could feel the doorway pressed against her other shoulder.

“No-no-no,” Lilah began to mutter, feeling her breath go shallow.

“It’s ok!” Dani called up, though it was obvious to both of them she was lying. “We’re both fine. I’m sure I could find a way to squeeze thr-“

Despite the constantly creaking and groaning of the forest outside, they both heard the new sound. It was the terrible complaint of the building below them. In the stilled silence of the moment before, the two shared one knowing glance. Dani, pale and still, looked so small against the writhing dark behind her.

The building creaked again, this time louder. Closer.

When the floor shifted beneath them, Lilah reached out.

As the private function room collapsed over the gap, Lilah continued to grow to her full size, while in her fist, Dani seemed to shrink smaller and smaller. Naturally, Lilah brought her hand to her chest and curled herself into the foetal position protectively around her cargo. It was all over in a few seconds when Lilah felt her side land roughly on the earth below. Thankfully, the drop was clear of any mature trees that would have done significant harm. Other than the awkward ache of a fall, she was fine. Thankfully, she couldn’t feel any glass in her skin, the full-coverage of her uniform offering her blessed protection.

Now outside, the wind whipped at her like a pack of frenzied animals descending on a fresh kill. The trees, dark and much smaller now, were bending their canopies this way and that, bullied by the fierceness of a clear winter night.

The cold, biting and hungry, was almost a relief against her burning hot skin and her lungs happily welcomed the air as relief. There was truly no feeling quite like returning to her natural height. She’d tried to explain it to Dani before. Even though she never felt constricted when she’d shift to human size, returning to normal height felt like stretching after a long day bent over hard labour.

Still holding her fist to her chest, she used the other to prop herself into a seated position. Doing her best to shelter Dani from the onslaught of wind, Lilah opened her hand. There was Dani, her suit crumpled, her hair a messy. There was an immediacy to her stare as she re-oriented herself with the world. When she looked at Lilah, her expression was unreadable.

“Are you ok?” They said in unison.

Lilah waited for Dani, who very quickly waved her off.

“I’m fine.” She said. “I just fell out of a collapsing building and, if not for your quick reflexes, would have died, but I’m fine. Are you ok?”

Lilah looked back at the welcome centre, at the gaping hole where the function room used to be. It was now about level with her head. Around and beneath her, the remnants of it were scattered - bits of glass, concrete, wood and other infrastructure lay broken and useless. Off in some of the nearby trees were other pieces of it carried off in the wind.

It was then that the horror sank in, and her eyes boiled over. She couldn’t help the rapid, frantic sobs that escaped her chest.

---

“Hey! Hey, love.” Dani tried by she was fighting a losing battle against her girlfriend, the wind, and her own panic wanting to tamp her voice dow. The shaking of Lilah’s fist was making her disoriented. “It’s ok! You’re ok. I’m ok. Ok?”

But the wind stole the words away. Her hair whipped around her face in wild tendrils. Lilah’s fingers curled around her, making her heart race.

“Oh my god, I’ve destroyed it.” Came Lilah’s pained voice, ignoring or not hearing Dani. “What if someone was here? What if I couldn’t reach you in time? What if…”

She descended into another fit of sobs, but this time Dani’s stomach lurched as she was pulled suddenly flush against Lilah’s rapidly moving chest. In the moment, Dani’s mind first went to the image of a small teddy bear being cradled by a child for comfort. As much as the idea softened her heart, the combination of the movement, being suspended in the air and Lilah’s haggard breathing covering her from above had her feeling nauseous.

Plus, she knew they still had to deal with it.

Lilah’s thumb stroked the back of her hair, though it was neither as soft nor as considered as her girlfriend’s usual touch. They were still getting used to each other at different scales and these were the situations where the newness really showed.

Dani grit her teeth and endured it, promising herself she’d raise it when cooler minds prevailed.

Right now, needed to stop this before it got worse.

She pressed on Lilah’s tightening hold around her centre forcefully and it was enough to get Lilah’s attention.

“Dani?” She asked, though she seemed to already know to let up as Dani felt the vice loosen just slightly.

Dani had to do everything to top her teeth chattering in the cold.

“I’m fine!” Dani repeated, with a more level voice than before. She still felt the same level of panic but was better prepared this time. “I’m ok!”

Lilah studied her with a terrible scrutiny, but when she was satisfied, she looked at the space where the private function room used to be.

“But-“

“It’s a building.” Dani stopped her before she could spiral. “It’s just a building. Actually, it’s part of a building. And you know it’s insured to high heaven.”

“But-“

The giant fingers twitched around her making Dani’s heart rate soar.

“Lilah, look at me.” She almost had to yell to get her giant partner’s attention.

She had to crane her neck to meet Lilah’s stare. Her girlfriends eyes were raw and her cheeks smeared with long wet trails. Dani hated that she couldn’t hold Li close and tell her it’d be ok. She couldn’t let her girlfriend collapse into her arms, she couldn’t run her fingers down her back. She was too powerless to cup her face and make it all go away. She couldn’t fight off the feelings, but she could fix them.

“Here’s the plan.” She said. The words alone had a soothing effect on her own heart. They let her brain settle and work through each thought. “Are there cameras?”

“Not on this side of the building. They didn’t think it mattered - the only thing this side is the drop.”

“Ok, good. We need a cover. We’ll keep it as close to true as possible. You were working late. TJ forgot to do the one thing you asked him to do and so you were preparing to (as always) pick up his slack. The room collapsed, and…”

At this point, Dani wasn’t even talking to Lilah, she was just piecing a story together and Lilah happened to be there.

“And people are going to believe I survived that unscathed?”

Dani shook her head. She chewed her cracked lips.

“No, of course not” she hummed. “Maybe you were in the room and you looked up just in time to see  one of the trees falling towards the building, uprooted by the wind. You escaped just in time.”

“But there’s no tree here?”

Dani looked at Lilah. “There are plenty of trees here, Li. If you could push one over onto the centre that, plus the wind, would be enough of a cover-up.”

Lilah pulled back, her face guarded.

“Dani, some of these trees are over 100 years old. I’m a ranger, I’m not going to kill one just to cover my tracks.”

“But-“

Lilah’s eyes flashed. “No."

Dani bit down on her tongue. There was no use pushing this. She knew it would be a hard line for her girlfriend. Dani didn’t love the idea of pulling up a tree for no reason, she knew how much Lilah cared about nature, but there was a reason - hiding the secret of giants from all of mankind seemed like a good one, even if it was environmentally questionable.

But this wasn’t the time to push Lilah or upset her more than she already was. She needed to pivot.

“Fine.” She took a long breath and shrugged. “Then we rely on uncertainty and bad weather and we call it an unfortunate Act of God.”

Lilah frowned. “And that would be enough?”

Dani pursed her lips, “The tree thing would be better but,” She added as Lilah’s fist inadvertently tightened around her. “You’d be surprised how often these kinds of things happen. When emergency response get here, you’re going to tell them you felt the room giving way under you and you sprinted for the door just in time. You’re lucky you were able to react. Actually, we may even be able to claim worker’s compensation -“

“Dani.”

“Fine, goodie two shoes. I’m going to say I found you in shock. You’re going to admit you have no idea what caused it - you suspect the bad weather over the last few days. You’re going to say you were looking forward to the clear forecast tomorrow and you’re going to make a throwaway comment about how nature is wild and unforgiving. The police and insurers will realise there is no obvious or provable blame and National Parks shouldn’t have an issue making the claim. It should be enough. But!” She looked Lilah right in the eye, nearly daring her girlfriend to look away. “Before any of that, you need to shift back.”

---

It took nearly 30 minutes of gentle coaxing and breathing for Lilah to shift back, which was faster than usual but not great from a timeline point of view. But Dani needn’t have worried. As far as emergency response was concerned, a ranger and her partner almost died in a wild weather incident. There wasn’t any discussion of blame, and if there was, what would they say? At least as far as the two of them were involved. The insurance company would want to speak to Lilah, but Dani would prepare her for that, she’d teach her the right things to say, how to act. When to joke and when not to. She’d make sure they’d have no reason but to pay out the claim to rebuild and with that, Lilah’s guilt would vanish. Dani would fix it.

From where she was sitting, ambulance blanket over her shoulders, she caught Lilah’s eye as her girlfriend was being interviewed by the police. Lilah nodded and smiled.

Dani let out a long breath.

One day.

One day she’d be able to control it.

One day they’d be better prepared.

-

The Informant

Sabine’s ship communicator flashed a bright red and she didn’t know whether to smile or groan when she saw the ID. She decided on both. She ignored it for a while, focussing on navigating to the jump point, hoping the call would die.

On the back of her neck, the hairs pricked.

Let him wait

But when it began bipping incessantly - angry at being ignored, like a toddler pulling at her pant leg - she finally answered.

“With all this cold calling, Jay, I’m beginning to think you’re sweet on me.”

Jay’s voice erupted with something between a cough, a bark, and a laugh. Sabine could imagine the volcanic ash pouring from his thick, scarred lips, and between his black mandibles, as he sat in his office, looking over the bright lights of Blue Marine, the casino empire he built from nothing to cover an entire moon.

No doubt, there was a Nethulyan cigar between his pincers - Sabine could almost smell the smoke through her ship’s speakers.

“Ah, Saba,” He said with a wheeze. “You know me, can’t be tied down. But if I were to go for one of you gross, fleshy humans, you’re first on my list.”

“Every girl’s dream. Though really, Jay, being first hasn’t exactly done me any favours.”

“The Irixes still on your tail?”

She couldn’t help but tense her fists around the ship controls. She fought every instinct in her begging to turn around, to check no one was sneaking up on her. Rationally, she knew it was impossible for the Irixes to be on her ship, but it didn’t stop the slow wave of goosebumps washing over her skin.

“Yeah, yours isn’t the only list I’m top of.” She muttered, reworking her route to accomodate an approaching comet. “Hugo got life.”

“I heard. Took every lawyer within 20 systems to stop him getting a sunset. Well, that’s the business, ain’t it?” She heard Jay’s mandible’s click together over the line - his equivalent of a mother’s disappointed tut. “Lotta money in the Go’oran trade, but it’s a risky market and the competition’s killer.” This earned another laboured laugh, chuffed at his own joke. “Hugo’s top dog. They’ll be lost without him for a while.”

“And they’re channeling all that loss into finding my arse and roasting it on a spit.”

“Come on, Saba. That’s not their style. They’d much rather spaghettify you in a black hole.”

“Which is why I’m getting as far away from Keridian as I can.”

“This is what happens when you take jobs with the authorities. No protection, no thank you - just a lowballed cheque and lot of enemies. Never met anyone more crooked than a judge, I’ll tell you that much for free.”

“About the only thing you’d do for free.”

“I have something you might like.” His voice peaked in a tease, like a used ship salesmen slapping a claw on a vessel that wouldn’t even reach orbit.

“I’m lying low.”

She knew there was no point hinting with him. It wasn’t that he was daft. He’d pick up a hint, but he’d prefer to crush it between his pretty orange pincers than take it seriously.

“I know, but I’ve always said the best way to get over an old job is to pick up a new one.”

“We’re talking about one of the biggest crime families in the galaxy, Jay, not one of your exes.”

“Eh,” He offered in response, taking a long drag of the cigar. She knew he was rolling his head on his neck, unconvinced. “You want a job.”

“I want quiet.”

“Quiet’s boring. You want something that makes you curious.”

“Isn’t that what kills the cat?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Earth thing.”

“Ah.”

Her navigator flashed, warning her she was approaching the jump point.

“Look, Jay, I’m about to make a jump and I’m not calling you back.”

Jay clicked his mandibles again and voice became unusually sober.

“I need you to take this job, Saba. I don’t trust anyone else. Consider it the Favour.”

Sabine ground her teeth together and veered her ship off-course, pulling out of the high-trafficked bottleneck leading up to the jump point.

Jay wasn’t a good person but, really, neither was she. He was one of her first clients when she entered the trade and they quickly formed a profitable partnership. Sabine was good at getting information and Jay was good at using it. It wasn’t a question of morality - they’d both happily take money from the sinners and the saints - but there was an unspoken honour code to these things. Once you commit to a job, you finish it. And a favour is always repaid.

She put the ship into an idle orbit around a nearby moon and stood up. Pacing, she took groups of her braids and begun weaving them together into one large plait. She couldn’t speak. It was like she’d been caught snitching by the Moth-Ean cartel and had her jaw sealed shut.

“You still there?”

Sabine rubbed her eyebrows.

“I can’t believe you’re calling in the Favour. With the Irixes sending word to every contact in the Quadrant. I’d be surprised if my face wasn’t slapped on every Keridian bounty board available.”

“Stop acting like this is your first time in hot water. You want safe, Saba? I could’ve given you a job working tables at Blue Marine. The Irixes are no worse than the Tooras, or the Solaris Siblings, the Li Party, or any of the other targets you’ve had.”

Sabine sighed and shook her arms in an effort to rid them of the tickling nerves shivering within. He was right. This wasn’t the first time people had tried to intimidate her and stop her from working - if they killed her or chased her off, that’d be a win for them. She had to keep going like they didn’t scare the living shit out of her.

But, there were very few people as deadly as Hugo Irix. It’d taken more time, resources, and personal sacrifice than she’d like to admit to become a trusted member of his circle, learn the key nodes of the Irixes Go’oran trade network, and systematically turn them in with enough evidence to get Hugo a life sentence in maximum security.

The look she’d shared with him as she stepped up to testify….

“What’s the job?”

“There’s my Saba! I was afraid I’d lost her. Don’t worry, compared to Hugo, this is child’s play.”

Sabine doubted that. Knowing Jay, he wouldn’t use the Favour on something simple. He had a better eye for value than that. She didn’t interrupt him though and he kept going.

“And it’s far enough away from Keridian that the Irixes won’t follow you. They have very little presence.”

“Out of Quadrant?”

“Boundary. Have you ever been to the Quasar Cafe?”

***

Sabine approached the Reeka woman from across the adjusted bar, weaving past other mixed size gatherings. As she passed, she heard snippets of conversations, locking any interesting details away in case they became relevant later.

Mostly, the folk who occupied the mixed size bars wanted to keep their business to themselves. It wasn’t illegal, per se, to mix with other species of such varying sizes, but it definitely wasn’t the norm. The hushed chatter of business deals or awkward flirting floated around her like the gentle thrum of a ship engine.

There was the shabby business woman whose eyes never left her cradled glass as a large, brick wall of a Hexigal slid a black bag across the table with his pinky. It would take her both arms to lift it. As it was nudged, the bag squirmed but made no sound.

“As promised.” Grumbled the Hexigal. The woman neither moved nor spoke.

Then there was the over-confident human, teething a martini olive as the reptilian skin of the large Olura (nearly double his height) opposite him shifted from a deep blue to a brilliant chartreuse. A blush if Sabine could hazard a guess. Or, at least, close enough.

Next to the Reeka, a Zidirin (half Sabine’s height) and a Vojuk (5 times and then some) spoke in low tones over a game of mahjong. Seeing the familiar Earth game in a Boundary Bar half a galaxy away almost made her do a double-take. How did it get there? Where’d they learn it?

Despite the sea of curiosities that flooded the bar, the Reeka woman stood out, and not just because she was four times Sabine’s height. Reekas were a colourful and extravagant species. Jaunty, gaudy, vivacious. It was said Reeka weddings often ended in funerals when someone inevitably laughed, drunk, or danced themselves to death.

Sabine had never met one before. The few she’d seen were only in passing as they rarely ventured outside their territory. Her skin was a pale green and her hair a vibrant candyfloss pink. And despite the attention she garnered simply by existing, she was nervous.

Coy.

Her eyes, like polished peridot, kept glancing around - aware of everyone, focussing on none. Her long, slender fingers knotted themselves in the bright orange fabric of her skirt. She’d clearly come straight from work. The clash of orange and red fabric was harsh, even for the Cafe, and reminded Sabine of the uniforms diner waitresses used to wear in the 1950s.

She looked like a fresh hunt, unsure of the cage. Trusting neither the feeding hand, nor the whip. The patter of rain and the rattle of chains were, to her, equally menacing.

Sabine had met with a lot of informants before - blabber mouths who didn’t know the meaning of ‘relevant’ and the tight-lipped types who’d rather have their teeth pulled than give anything up. The opportunists, cowards, good Samaritans.

The ‘What’s in it for me's…

The ‘Maybe if I’d’s…

The ‘You didn’t hear it from me’s…

But for the most part, they looked like this. Baby giraffes on gangly legs, wide-eyed, wondering how everyone else can walk around normally when the ground was shifting beneath their feet.

Most people in the galaxy didn’t know how to turn on a stunner, let alone fire it. Most people couldn’t fly an interplanetary ship, let alone interstellar. Most people heard Hugo Irix’s name for the first time when he was arrested. They weren’t as tightly woven into the fabric as Sabine. The weren’t aware of the back rooms, back alleys, backstabbing.

This kind of informant both comforted and saddened her. Could she even remember a time when the universe shocked her with its real face?

She rolled her neck on her shoulders as she approached.

There was one part of this job which was different from the others. Her first Reeka. Her first… well, anyone this large.

In principle, the big folk handled the big folk. The same went for Sabine and her circles. People kept to their business, and that business only mingled in the most extraordinary circumstances.

Well, Jay, She thought. Consider me curious.

“Vivara?”

The Reeka’s head snapped up, both over-prepared for and surprised by the interruption. Though her gaze went too high - too used to meeting her own kind at eye-level. It took her a beat to realise the empty space ahead of her and adjust. She seemed, if only just, surprised by just how far her eyes had to travel before they landed on Sabine.

It didn’t matter that she was expecting a human, or that she was meeting a stranger at a Boundary Bar in the mixed section - she still looked surprised. She didn’t even attempt to hide her shock and fascination. Like her childhood doll had suddenly sprung to life and called her name.

She wasn’t alone. Much to Sabine’s own surprise, her skin began to buzz when their eyes met. While she’d dealt with larger folk - mostly walls of flesh valued for the way their arms resembled tree trunks - she could hardly call them ‘big’ now. Here, in a way that was entirely foreign, was a towering creature, both impressive and lithe. Powerful and delicate. Features refined and precise. She existed at scale that should be considered brutish, but there couldn’t be a word less apt. Under her rounded stare - innocent, fascinated, unsure - Sabine was hyper-aware of herself. To be swallowed whole in one glance left her feeling like she was naked with a cold wind tickling across her skin. An odd sensation to be sure, here at the back of an intimate, humid bar in a forgotten corner of the Galaxy.

She cleared her throat, pushing the feeling away with a shake of her head.

Focus.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She said as she sat opposite the Reeka, adjusting her jacket in a stolen moment to compose herself.

From her pocket, she produced a small, round device. It looked like a standard communicator, mid-range and unremarkable, but had been modded with far more sensitive microphones to record their conversation. She pressed a small, indiscernible button on the side and placed it on the table between them

She wasn’t late. She’d been at the bar since before Vivara arrived, tucked into a corner and watching to see if anyone was tailing her or if she truly was alone. Only when she was satisfied, did Sabine make herself known.

“The IH472A was a nightmare.” She continued. “But you know how the end of the week is.”

The Reeka woman didn’t say anything. Despite their difference in size, she seemed intimidated by Sabine - scattered and frozen like the shards of glass that stared back at you after taking a bat to a mirror. Not that Sabine knew anything about that.

It didn’t bother her, she knew how these things started. Now she was seated and ready to interview, she felt that initial buzz begin to fade to a dull, distant hum.

She met the large peridot eyes again and smiled her best smile, which Jay thought still needed work after all these years.

What the fuck is that, Saba? Are you trying to fuck me or kill me?

It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested mandibles would make her face more appealing.

I know a girl - very talented. She did Charley’s second pair. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything about Charley’s personality.

“I’m Sabine,” She said. “Thanks of meeting with me, Vivara. I know this all must be overwhelming.”

At the mention of her own name, Vivara’s green cheeks deepened in colour. It was as if it shook her from her trance and made her aware of how much she was staring. Her shoulders ever so slightly relaxed back onto her chair and she untwisted her fingers from her skirt to tuck a loose strange of pink hair behind her ear.

“Sorry,” She muttered, her voice lower than her pointed, elfin features suggested. “I’ve never been to a place like this.”

She gestured around her with jagged movements. From her jumpiness, her waitress uniform, and the neat curl of her pink hair, that was hardly a revelation. But she suspected there was more in the comment.

Sabine nodded. “That’s ok. I’ve been to enough Boundary Bars for the two of us.” Liar. “They’re aren’t as scary as they seem. Jay’s people chose the Quasar for your benefit more than anything else.”

She frowned. “Really?”

“Yes. They figured you would want a place where no one would recognise you, but that wouldn’t require you to leave Reeka territory.”

“I appreciate that. Can you imagine if people knew I was going to a Boundary Bar.” Vivara’s laugh was breathy, and the sound of it made Saba’s buzz spike. “I feel like I’m so out of my depth here. But if I went into your Quadrant, I don’t know if there would be anywhere I could even fit through the door. And if I could, where I wouldn’t be gawked at.”

There was a harmony in the way she spoke, a natural fluidity that took her from one word to the next. Sabine could see the version of her that existed prior to her being involved in this mess. Open. Free. Unburdened. She decided not to tell Vivara that even here, in the Quasar Cafe, where Reekas were regulars and mixed meetings were the norm, she still drew the attention of everyone present. Every now and then, the focus of the mahjong players on the neighbouring table was broken by a glance in her direction. She didn’t blame them, even Sabine had been shocked when she saw Vivara first arrive.

But it did make things difficult for Sabine. With everyone so aware of the beautiful Reeka in the room, either consciously or subconsciously, they’d be suspicious of why someone like her would be in a place like this. As she chipped away at the wall of strangerhood between them, Sabine worked through options. What legitimate reason would she have for being here? With her of all people.

“You’d be surprised.” She said. “The galaxy is much more diverse than you might think.”

“Are most people in your Quadrant as… - sorry, there’s no other word - small as you?”

For reasons unexplained, Sabine felt her blood go hot. There was something about that word, small, that brought the difference in size between them back to the forefront. She’d never been described as small before, being above average height for a human woman. She’d been called weak - even short by a few of the taller species - but never small. Small felt all-encompassing. An assessment. A metric of how little space she took up. Small could be dismissed with a flick of the wrist.

It set her jaw.

“You’ve definitely never been over the border have you?”

Vivara’s cheeks deepened again. “Sorry. No. I haven’t. I don’t really know what I’m meant to do here.”

Sabine rolled her head on her shoulders, enjoying the way the space between the vertebrae popped as she did.

“There’s no rush, we can start when and where you’re most comfortable.”

Saba read the files Jay sent through a few times when they arrived. This wasn’t even her first interview on the matter. Before arriving at the Qasar, she’d spoken to a few cursory people. But this was her most important.

Jay’s son, Jayron, had, without his father’s knowing, began dealing with a powerful Reeka crime syndicate, with the intent to establish his own Blue Marine in Reeka territory. However, before Jay could put a stop to it, Jayron disappeared.

His last known location? Back booth of a diner, served by the only waitress on shift - a green-skinned Reeka with bright pink hair.

Which is why they were there, meeting at the Quasar. Jay didn’t want a Reeka investigating, having little knowledge of their networks and who was on whose payroll. And he didn’t trust the authorities, particularly when it came to inter-quadrant cases.

“I don’t really know if I’ll be of any help.” Vivara rambled. “I didn’t even know anything was wrong until your friends contacted me.”

Saba’s lips twitched at the implication she and Jay’s network were just a group of friends. That she was there for any reason other than professional obligation. It was sweet - the kind of naivety she was always so hesitant to tarnish.

If she could be honest, Sabine never really liked Jayron. Where Jay’s over-confident irreverence painted him as a seasoned and savvy businessman, those same traits were brash and childish in his son.

“Let me be the judge of what is and isn’t relevant. All I need from you is what you remember.”

“Ok.” Vivara nodded. Then she frowned. “So, what are you? A bounty hunter? A private eye?”

“Sometimes.” Sabine shrugged. “I like to think myself as professionally curious.“

She paused. Behind Vivara, she noticed another Reeka walk past and sit himself down at a nearby table. He had bright orange skinned and blue hair, and when he glanced in their direction, his eyes were cerulean. They flicked between her and Vivara. There was a squint in his gaze and tension in his shoulders, and his fingers danced on the rim of his glass. He wasn’t, as some might assume on first inspection, here for leisure.

He was here for Vivara.

There you are.

She knew they’d send someone. Nothing like a Boundary Bar to make everyone think they’re more discrete than they actually are. That was the real reason for the Quasar - information. Some from Vivara herself, and the rest from what her presence would tease out, like mice from the walls.

The last thing she wanted was to make Vivara aware of anything that would make her even more nervous. Sabine’s priority was to diffuse suspicion and collect the information she needed without putting Vivara in any further danger.

In this instance, she had the advantage of anonymity. The Reeka networks didn’t know her name or face. They had no reason to suspect this was anything more than two people having a drink together.

Just then, a waitress walked past them and Sabine waved her down. She was another Reeka woman with deep blue skin and black hair. While her clothes were dark, her smile and demeanour were bright.

At her approach, Vivara’s eyes found the floor - as if she were embarrassed that another of her kind would find her in a place like this. Even though, to the waitress, they were the least interesting patrons she’d served that week, let alone that night. She worked the mixed section of a Boundary Bar between different sized territories, while striking, Vivara was far too vanilla to be anything more to this waitress than a passing thought.

“Welcome folks!” The waitress beamed. “Can I get you anything to start?”

Sabine smiled, “Just the house for me. Vivara?”

She looked over at her informant. The floor must have really taken her because it took Sabine repeating her name to get her attention. And even then, she seemed to refuse to meet the waitress’s eyes.

“Ummm, the same, I guess.”

“Easy!” The waitress said, unperturbed. “And how long have you two been together, if you don’t mind me asking?”

That got Vivara’s attention. Her head shot up, her face, neck and chest flushed a deep forest colour. But before she could protest, Sabine interjected.

“Actually, this is our first date.” She made a point of sending a coy look at Vivara. “A mutual friend set us up. And we picked the Quasar because… well, you know.”

Vivara couldn’t have looked more lost if she tried. The poor thing could only stare, embarrassed, as Sabine took charge of the conversation.

The waitress placed a hand on her chest as she cooed. “Of course, aren’t you lucky! I wish I had friends like that. Well,” She said with a knowing smile. “I’ll get your order sorted. Have a good night, girls. Sing out if you need anything.”

When she was well out of sight, Vivara leant across the table, her size more pronounced the closer she got and Sabine found herself leaning back and away despite herself. She could feel Vivara’s breath wash over her.

“Why’d you say that?” Her whisper was harsh and it sent an unfamiliar thrill through Sabine’s veins.

“What?”

“That we’re on a date!”

Sabine shrugged. “It’s always easiest to go with what people believe. Why would I waste the effort trying to conjure a new lie that would barely convince her. You’re so obviously nervous. You’d sweat less if you were trapped in a tin can on Venus - that’s a planet from my system.” She clarified when Vivara frowned. “-You can barely look me in the eye and you’re stammering through every sentence. And that’s normal.” Sabine added softly. “She thinks you’re acting like that because we’re on a date. Let’s roll with it. We’re on a date and you’re telling me a story.”

Vivara pursed her lips. “Usually my dates are taller.”

Sabine felt her eyebrows raise on their own accord. “And mine are more articulate.”

Vivara’s shoulders sagged.

“Sorry,” She said for the third time that evening and guilt wound it’s way around Sabine’s heart and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll tell you everything.”

Sabine’s eyes stole a moment to glance at the shadowing Reeka man. He was typing into a communicator. She raised a hand to Vivara.

“Not yet. Let’s start again. We’re on a date.”

“Right. Yes. Wow, it’s been a while since I was last on a date.”

“You’re joking.” Sabine wasn’t even acting. Even if Vivara turned around and told her exactly where Jayron was and all the contacts involved with his disappearance, that at would be the second most surprising thing she could have revealed that night.

Sabine didn’t date often either. She told herself it was because she was busy, or that it was risky. That she didn’t want to bring innocent people into her world, and that the people in her world were too far gone to ever be in a healthy, trusting relationship. Scavengers and bottom-feeders don’t thrive in partnership. They always end up eating each other.

That was her experience at least. A couple of flings that either burned out pathetically or exploded in a violent supernova. And now, she could hardly claim to be the most appealing piece on the market with her back in the firing line of every Irix contact in the Quadrant. The few beds she was welcome in would turn her away now.

She couldn’t remember the last time she made someone blush. She could barely remember how. And she could hardly take credit for Vivara’s nervousness - for her flustered sentences, her dry-mouthed rambling, her fidgeting fingers. The darkness in her complexion and the avoidant gaze were far more attached to what Sabine did than anything to do with who she was.

That was fine. That was the life she chose. If choice was the word.

But Vivara? Was she falsely interpreting the stares of other patrons? Were Reekas just that otherworldly that Vivara’s smooth, lush skin, gemstone eyes, and bouncy fairy floss bob were just average?

Vivara shook her head. “No, I don’t date often.”

“I can relate.”

“I mean, I get a lot of… approaches.” Vivara clarified and Sabine smirked. “Particularly at work, but the kind of clients I get at the diner are hardly the kind of people you’d want to spend any time with.”

Ah, there it is.

The Reeka man was looking at them again. Sabine made a point of laughing, and began weaving her braids together, eyeing Vivara with intent.

Vivara, unaware of their observer, let out a breathy chuckle. She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“Is it warm in here, or just me?”

“It’s warm.” Sabine smiled, granting Vivara escape from her own flushing cheeks.

“Ok, good.” Vivara fanned herself with her hands. “I was going to say, you usually have to work harder to get me to blush like this.”

At that moment, their waitress returned with two glasses of a clear spirit - one that fit in her hand and one she pinched between her fingers. Of all things, that’s what made Sabine’s palms go clammy.

“Here you go!” She beamed, placing the glasses in front of them with a wink. “You let me know if I can help out with anything else.”

“Thanks.” Sabine smiled and Vivara echoed it with a low mumble.

Any time she became aware of the crowd at the bar, Vivara closed up. Sabine couldn’t let that happen. She needed her to feel confident enough to speak.

She took a sip of the spirit. It was harsher than she was used to, burning the back of her tongue like she was swallowing lighter fluid. She did her best to hide it, but it made her eye twitch.

Vivara seemed to have no issue. She sipped at her glass as if it were water. She met Sabine’s eyes and laughed.

“Strong?”

Sabine coughed. She didn’t need to, but it did the trick. Vivara laughed harder, resting a gentle hand on her chest. The sound of it, the music, made Sabine’s tongue feel heavy.

“Much stronger than the stuff I’m used to.”

Vivara raised her eyebrows, “Really? I was about to say it’s a bit weak.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Vivara shook her head and her pink hair bounced around her shoulders. “No. What we serve at the diner is a lot more intense than this.”

“I think that would probably kill me.” Sabine muttered. Half of her meant it, wondering what kind of battery acid Reekas drank casually at a diner. The other half of her leaned into the hyperbole, itching for another hit of the Reeka’s laughter. She got it and with it, her whole body flooded with a warm hum - much faster than what anything in her glass would achieve.

“I can’t imagine you at the diner.” Vivara said. “This is strange enough.”

Sabine was too focussed to be offended by that. This was her in. Vivara was talking more openly, more naturally. Their conversation was so boring that any inquisitive ear would have turned away.

“Who do you usually see at work?”

Vivara’s expression became serious as she caught on. It wasn’t ideal, but Reekas weren’t known for their stoicism. All emotions were as easy to read as an alphabet picture book. Her brow settled lower over her eyes and she took a swig of her glass.

Her unoccupied hand returned to burying itself in knots in her skirt.

“It’s a busy place.” She started. “Loud. The tables are always full and we’re always understaffed. We get a mix too - families like it because kids eat cheap, lonely folks like to disappear in the noise, people come during their lunch break or after work. We’re open early until late.”

“Regulars, or mostly strangers?”

“Both. Definitely some I know by name, but also plenty I don’t.”

“And in the case of the night two weeks ago?”

Vivara shook her head. “They weren’t regulars, but they didn’t stand out either. They just struck me as normal businessmen. From the way they dressed, I assumed they were workers from a nearby office. Probably higher paid than most. I’ve been working at the diner long enough to know who will and won’t tip.”

“And this group looked like they would?”

Vivara rolled her eyes. “No. The richer they are, they less they tip and the more they expect you to perform. I knew as soon as they walked in that this group was going to be trouble.” She stopped, and bit her tongue. “But not trouble like -“ She waved her hand mostly in Sabine’s direction. “That.”

Sabine smirked. That. Could she blame Vivara for painting everyone associated with Jayron’s disappearance as that? Victim, perpetrators, investigators - they were all, in their own way, trouble.

“Gotcha.” She nodded. “Wealthy, put together. Enough to make you groan, but nothing to set your alarms off.”

Vivara nodded. “That was until I arrived at their booth to take their order, and I saw… well…”

“Jayron.”

“Yes. Though I didn’t know that was his name. When I said we usually serve a mix, I meant a mix of Reekas. It was the first time I’ve ever seen anyone from another species in person.”

Sabine had to make a concerted effort to stop her jaw from dropping.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.” Vivara’s face flushed again. “I didn’t realise my life was so sheltered.”

Sabine whistled. “So, I must really be a freak of nature to you.” She laughed at Vivara’s appalled expression and waved down her building defence. “Only a joke. You’re doing great for a first timer.”

“Thank you.” Vivara said though she looked bashful, embarrassed by her own naïveté. “If I’d known other species were so pretty, I’d have ventured out sooner.”

Sabine felt her own face warm and suddenly her jacket felt too tight. She couldn’t stop her furrowed brow.

Vivara leant in closet and a tension curled in Sabine’s chest.

“We’re on a date, right?” The Reeka offered in explanation.

The tension released and Sabine let out a long breath. She admonished herself for the small twinge of disappointment she felt now knowing it was just part of the act.

Unaware of her own effect, Vivara continued her account.

“I was so rude when I saw him.” Vivara groaned. “I didn’t know what to do. I just stared. And the others at the booth seemed to think that was funny.”

At that moment, their waitress walked past their table. In response, Sabine made a show of leaning over and placing her hand lightly on Vivara’s. She laughed and pulled her braids over one shoulder.

“Oh my god!” She crooned. “That’s so funny. You have to tell me more about it!”

In the back of her head though, she hyper fixated on the smoothness beneath her fingers, the warmth. The size of the hand beneath her own. Every minute pulse and flinch was on display below her. She could feel them in intense detail.

Vivara stared down at the offending hand - at where the two strangers touched for the first time. The waitress passed and they both pulled their hands away.

Sabine’s gaze flicked to the orange Reeka man. He was, or at least pretending to be, distracted by a game on a high screen above the bar. A few patrons were equally captivated. By the sounds of the spectators, the local team was losing. Sabine didn’t recognise the sport - probably Reekan in origin - but she did recognise the way the man’s head flung back.

“Ummmm,” Vivara said, bringing Sabine back into focus. Vivara was still staring at the space where their hands had met. Her cheeks awash. “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying.”

Sabine smiled. “You saw Jayron for the first time. Can you tell me more about that? How did he look, what were they talking about, how many people were in the booth? Those kinds of details are really helpful.”

“He looked… well, it’s hard to tell because he’s so different. But I’d say he looked overwhelmed. Constantly looking at the others, but I don’t know if it was for reassurance or out of fear. He’s about half your size and he was sitting up on the table, which I don’t think he liked. I mean,” She gestured between the two of them. “At least here, there are mixed sections and we can sit here as equals. But at the diner, the power imbalance was scary and I wasn’t even part of it.”

“That’s probably why they picked the diner. Crowded, loud, full of a species so much bigger with no one else to relate to. They would’ve wanted to isolate him.”

Vivara shivered. “That’s so scary. They stopped talking when I approached and I must have looked so stupid! My usual waitress spiel died as soon as I saw him. Then one of the four men prods Jayron with a thick finger and says, I don’t think she likes our pet, Little Jay…and I laughed!” She buried her face in her hands. “It just came out of me. I laughed. He was in trouble and I just laughed.”

Sabine buried the feeling of secondhand humiliation. But it mingled with her exasperation. Of course Jayron had to pick a Reekan syndicate for his first grand venture. Of course the desperation to out-do his father led him well out of his depth. Led to him going missing. Led his father to getting involved. Led to her getting involved. Vivara getting involved. How long would that list get before he was found? If he was found. And, if he was, Sabine knew he’d just go off and do it again. The cycle would start over.

And beneath all of that, there was her sadness for Jay, who knew his son didn’t have the gumption to take on his empire, and yet encouraged him to dream.

Behind Vivara, the Reeka man sipped his drink and watched the game. Then he paused mid-sip when his communicator flashed. He returned the glass to the table and inspected the new message. After a moment, he began typing furiously.

Once, and so briefly you could argue it didn’t happen, cerulean met obsidian and then both glanced away.

Fuck.

“It’s ok.” She said to Vivara, identifying the easy exits she’d scouted when she first arrived. As always, she had back-ups for the back-ups. “It’s a normal reaction to laugh when we’re stressed. Maybe part of you knew something was amiss, and for your own safety, you played along.”

Vivara glanced up from her palms. Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded, almost desperate for the out Sabine offered. “Yeah. Maybe that was it. I think I suspected something. All conversation died when I came to the table again with their orders but later, I heard more of what they were discussing.” She chewed her cheek. “I don’t usually make a habit of eavesdropping, but for some reason - nosiness, fascination, or fear - I was paying extra attention to whatever I could catch whenever I walked by.”

Sabine nodded, she found herself pulling in closer. This would be the lead. Maybe here would be something she could work with.

“And?”

Vivara took her glass and downed the rest of her drink in a way that would surely burn a hole in Sabine’s throat if she were to do the same.

“It was only snippets.”

“It usually is.” Sabine said, there was an anticipation curling and writhing in her stomach.

“I heard just a few phrases in passing. I remember ’next shipment’, ‘Florean Sector’, ‘Marcho Galvoni’, and ‘each pretty pincer’. But I don’t know if that’s helpful?”

Sabine steepled her fingers and pressed them to her lips. She nodded, committing the snippets to memory. She knew she had the communicator recording everything, but trusted her brain better.

Next shipment.

Florean Sector.

Marcho Galvoni.

Each pretty pincer.

They weren’t answers, but it was enough. She’d worked with less before.

Jayron, you fucking idiot.

“And when they left,” Vivara continued. “I didn’t see Jayron. I remember, despite the rush, looking for him as they left and being confused. But then,” She shrugged. “I didn’t see him when they entered, and the cafe was busy.”

Sabine frowned. “Did they have any bags with them?”

Vivara’s eyes widened like an angel first encountering sin. “Oh yes, they did. I remember. Just a brief case.”

“Would it have..?” She left the question unfinished. Vivara was already nodding.

“I think so.”

“And their colouring? The men in the booth?”

Vivara frowned, and for a second Sabine wondered if there was a better way to phrase that question. Vivara didn’t correct her, but that didn’t mean much.

“One had a deep red complexion and neon yellow hair. Another two were so similar I’m sure if they weren’t twins, they were at least siblings - pale blue skin, mustard hair. But the one who was doing most of the talking was all white - skin, hair, eyes. He was mean - cruel. I struggled to look him in the eye.”

What does that make me? Sabine thought as she could count the few times during their conversation Vivara had actually met her gaze.

She noted the descriptions. This last seemed unique enough for a Reeka that she could get a lead or two. But before she could follow-up, the shadowing man stood from his table, drained his glass, grabbed his communicator and began walking toward their table. She froze and admonished herself when Vivara noticed.

“What?” She frowned, beginning to look around.

“It’s nothing.” Sabine lied.

But then ‘nothing’ stopped beside Vivara at the mixed bar. The two of them together were an impressive sight - all-encompassingly large, dominating her entire view with their bright, saturated colours.

Noticing his presence, Vivara seized. Her whole body when rigid and her gaze once more returned to the floor. Her green face was ashen and Sabine thought she might faint.

But, despite Sabine’s assumption about their shadow, he paid Vivara no mind. Instead, his bright sea-blue eyes bore into Sabine in a way that sent an electric bolt through her nerves and left them sizzling like powerlines in the rain. Now, more than any time before, she was aware of the difference between them - the sheer gap in size, strength, presence. If she were to be cornered by him, there would be little she could do.

She didn’t recognise him but the look in his eye was knowing, which unnerved her even more. She was well-known in some circles. Mostly in circles where being well known did more harm than good.

“Sabine Ducote?” He asked and she didn’t grace him with a reply, simply opting to maintain his stare. If he knew her name and face, this was just performance.  “I thought it was you, but had to check with a few contacts to confirm.”

Vivara’s pink curls bounced as her head swung frantically between the two and their silent standoff.

“What’s happening?” Her voice was rising in urgency.

The Reeka man placed a gentle but firm hand on Vivara’s back, making the larger girl freeze. Her eyes when to Sabine’s with some silent plea for comfort. Assurance. Sabine wondered if this was what Jayron looked like at the diner.

“Don’t worry.” She said and knew it was unhelpful. She wasn’t willing to give anything away yet.

“I agree.” The man smiled. His hand still lingered on Vivara’s shoulder and the Reeka woman’s expression was as if she thought it would leave a stain. “You have no need to worry, love. Your girlfriend though?” He smirked down at Sabine who, was calculating whether reaching for her communicator or her stunner first would be wiser. “Well, see for yourself.”

He placed his communicator on the bar between them. It was huge next to Sabine’s own and what she saw on it made her feel as if all her bones had suddenly dissolved - that she’d flop onto the floor to be mopped up by the waitress later.

There, on the display, was her face - her white, thin braids, her dark skin, the scar across her nose. It was a candid photo but she couldn’t place where it was taken. It was too zoomed in to gauge any location. What she did recognise was the Irix sigil stamped in the upper left corner of the photo.

Bounty brand.

Across the bottom of the photo was her name. Another instance where the Hugo prosecutor’s screwed her over. Instead of using her case alias, they, in front of Hugo, called her to the stand by her full name.

She swallowed when she saw ‘PRICE NEGOTIABLE’ underneath her name. Open priced bounties were beyond rare. This would send every money hungry hunter in the Galaxy after her, even well outside Keridian territory.

“Hugo sends his regards.” The Reeka man grinned.

But before his hands could move to the stunner tucked under his coat, she had hers drawn and ready. One quick pull and there was a pretty new red freckle between his surprised brows. His cerulean eyes rolled and as his body crumpled to the floor, his hand slid off Vivara’s shoulders, causing the larger girl to shriek.

Around the bar, all eyes turned to them and Sabine sighed. Her heart pounded. She was in deeper shit than she or Jay could have ever imagined. As patrons began to stir, uncovering the cause of the interruption, Sabine snatched her communicator and quickly deleted the bounty message from the Reeka’s.

“What’s happening?” Vivara’s voice was wavering and panicked.

Sabine looked at her and peridot clung to her gaze desperately. Her chest aches at the sight. She didn’t have time to explain. Their Reeka shadow knew nothing of Jayron business as Sabine assumed, but was instead there for her - for the mess Vivara had nothing to do with.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she reached over and stole a precious second to place a sure hand on Vivara’s again.

“I’m sorry.” She said, and meant it. “Thank you for everything. I hope you never have to see me again.”

And then she bolted, leaving Vivara in a stunned silence as fellow patrons and staff of the Quasar swarmed around her. They were intrigued more than anything, and did not share Vivara’s horror at the lifeless form beside her. It was, after all, a boundary bar.

As she ran towards the closest exit, Sabine heard their waitress tut her tongue to a couple she was serving.

“Been there.” She said.

Sabine didn’t have time to think about anything except getting as far away from the Quasar Cafe as possible.

Though lingering in the back of her mind was a stupid thought she couldn’t quite shake.

All things considered, not a bad date.

______________________________________________________________

(@biggnansmol - thank you so much for donating! I'm sorry it's been a while coming. I hope you enjoyed xx

I loved this prompt and wanted to put a different spin on it. And let's be real, if it's a story by me it will have two key components: awkward gay flirting and batshit insanity. And added bonus if it's in space.

I had so much fun with this one. Someone sent me an ask recently about there not being enough wlw stories in GT - happy to make another contribution with these girls.

Potion Roulette was a rather simple game. It was popular across the East Continent and most alchemists, brewers, and apothecaries were familiar with it. Though the more professionally-aligned of the craft looked down upon the game, they couldn’t deny it was profitable. It was a good way to shift potions that were close to expiry (or, in the case of ‘Spiked Potion Roulette’, actually expired), to sell off more expensive merchandise, or, as was often the case, to test out something a little more experimental. 

The rules are as such. The players approach a potion seller with a sack of gold and any conditions, rules, or exceptions (in this case, all those listed by Jade) and the seller will, in their turn, provide potions respective to the number of players and value of gold. 

It was commonly understood that a good game of Potion Roulette required at least 5 gold per player - 10 if you were really looking for fun. As the party were including a blank - that is a potion with no effects - they settled on 7 gold per potion. At that range, they could get good quality, mid-range varieties without the usual risks associated with the cheap stuff. 

After acquiring the potions, the players - each blindfolded - take turns choosing a potion. Then, when all have been chosen, the players drink their potions at once and then...well, who knows after that. 

Thankfully, in Halambad, there was no shortage of brewers, though they ranged across a spectrum of reputation. Despite their protests, Kip and Almara eventually agreed to purchase from guild-aligned sellers only. Though that didn’t stop them from seeking out the most interesting of them. 

Ti-afren was a Bog Elf. The Bog Elves are, in Kip’s opinion, strange and unsettling. Though they have a natural gift for brewery and “tapping into the essence of things”, which makes them powerful brewmasters. As such, ‘Ti-afren’s House of Drink, Slink, and Stink’ was known amongst those in the know as the place to go for all things odd. And not long after entering, Kip and Almara left with a crate of six identical opaque silver bottles, shining in the afternoon sun. 

They had no idea what they contained, or what they would do, only that one did absolutely nothing. 

 *** 

They all gathered around, empty potion bottles were strewn about the campfire, silver flickering white in the firelight. To Quinn, it almost felt like ceremony. 

Kip pinched a small piece of parchment from the crate and unfolded it with delicate fingers. Though he couldn’t make out what it said, Quinn could see that scrawled across the page in a jagged, pointed script were Ti-afren’s notes. 

“Ok.” Kip said, Quinn watched the half-elf’s sparkling eyes squint as they quickly scanned across the page. When he came to the end of it, he closed his eyes briefly and hummed. It was like whatever he’d read was honey on his tongue and he was savouring the taste. “This will be interesting.” 

“Enough jest,” Oberon rolled his eyes. “Out with it, Elf.” 

Kip tutted. “No theatre with you, Oberon. Oh well, I suppose you are right - enjoy it, it doesn’t come often.” Before Gallon could demonstrate his dislike for that remark, Kip continued, occasionally glancing back at the parchment for reference. “It says here that the potions should take 10 minutes after ingestion to take effect.” 

“Love that.” Almara nodded appreciatively. “Ti-afren knows what he’s doing. I do enjoy a bit of suspense.” 

“I don’t.” Jade muttered. She’d been nervous ever since Kip and Almara had returned with the order. She’d been the most hesitant to down her potion. “I don’t like any of this.” 

Almara draped a long arm over Jade and held her close. “I know, love. But I think a bit of uncertainty is good for you.” 

Jade just crossed her arms. 

Quinn had a similar twisted feeling in his gut and he was yet to determine if it was nerves, excitement, or the potion not sitting well in his system. Maybe it was all three, or another option he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t sure. 

Regardless, the energy around the group was intoxicating, made even more electrifying by the natural magic that thrummed through the glade. He imagined what his mother would think of him in that moment - playing a dangerous potion drinking game with armed mercenaries, unsure of what would happen. The image of her expression caused him to grin. She’d always kept him so close, under the strictest supervision. No unvetted friendships, no journeys on his own, nothing that would present any risk to him. The only night he’d been granted any space at all was his betrothal. And maybe she was right to be cautious, because look what he’d done with it. 

His smile broadened and a heat bloomed from his centre. He’d taken action. He’d made the decision. There was no way he was going back West. And so with that commitment in his heart, he said. 

“What’s so interesting, Kip? What are the potions?” 

Kip looked up, and seemed momentarily caught of guard by his smile, his forwardness. After a second’s recovery, Kip’s expression was conspiratorial, he rested a gentle hand on Quinn’s thigh and laughed. Quinn hoped the night would hide the heat in his cheeks. 

“I knew you’d have fun, my Prince.” Kip said in a voice that flowed like liquid gold. “We have a good mix of things it seems.” With his free hand, he re-read the list of potions. As he did, Quinn felt his whole body buzz. “Ok, first up, we have Jade’s nasty little blank.” 

Jade’s dour face twisted into a scowl. It was the angriest he’d ever seen her. From Quinn’s observations over the last few weeks, she’d always been the voice of reason. The party respected her as their leader, they accepted her judgement and followed her call, she broke up the fights, and usually put up with Kip’s hyperactive tongue. But here, stripped of surety, she was a lot less tolerant. 

 Kip seemed to notice too and quickly moved onto the rest of the list. “Ok, looks like we have a set of twin potions - at least that’s what I gather from their names.” He frowned. “One is The Upgrade and the other is The Downgrade.” 

“That last one makes me nervous.” Oberon chuckled. He elbowed Gallon in the ribs. “Bet you get that one, brother.” 

Gallon huffed and elbowed him back - hard enough that Oberon lost his footing and landed on his arse. They both laughed. 

“Did the brewer include a list of effects?” Jade asked through a tense jaw. 

“It doesn’t look like it.” Kip said, scouring the page as if that information were hidden somewhere and he just couldn’t find it. “Ti-afren just provided the names, I’m afraid.” He even looked it - just a little. “We’ll find out effects soon enough.” 

Jade paled again and her arms tightened around her chest. Almara crooned and ran her long fingers through Jade’s short hair. In the dark, Quinn could see the tips of her fingers glowing. He wondered if that was just something she did, or if she were using magic to calm Jade’s nerves. 

“What about the rest?” He found himself asking. Kip looked gratefully up at him. 

“We have The Heart Trap - I’ve been the victim of enough of these to have a good idea of what it is.” Kip shook his head as if recalling a memory - or many. He continued. “The Truth Sleuth - not quite sure what that is, maybe a truth serum? And, finally, The Delusion Illusion Solution - Ti-afren does love a triplet rhyme. I can’t say I blame him, I’m guilty myself.” 

He folded the parchment again and put it in his coat pocket. That was that. The potions were known, they’d been drunk. All they had to do was wait. 

Around the group, eyes scanned, trying to guess who’d drunk what, and when they’d take effect. 

Turns out, when you’re waiting, 10 minutes is a long time. 

 *** 

Oberon was first. 

One moment, he was standing among them, a wicked grin on his face and eyes flashing. The next, his whole face went slack, his dark eyes glazed over, and he began to twirl in place, like a village girl during midsummer festival. 

“Dance with me!” He pleaded no one in particular as he laughed and flung his hands around. 

The look on Kip’s face was nothing but unbridled delight. He tapped Quinn on his thigh. 

“I’m guessing that’s The Delusion Solution. Quick, Quinn.” He said. “Remember all of this. Exactly what he says, how he moves, what he does. This is too good for only us to witness - we will turn it into a song.” 

“Hey!” Almara tutted, her arm still slung around Jade who watched Oberon with fear. “Potion Roulette is a safe space, Kip. We agreed to that years ago.” 

Kip sighed. “But -“ 

At that moment, Gallon perked up. However, instead of lumbering over to Kip to punish the bard for mocking his brother, he just stared at Kip, turned, and then dashed into the woods. They all looked on after him a while, puzzled. 

“We’ll see what eventuates of that.” Kip mused. Then he turned back to Almara. “My darling, I’m a poet surrounded by muses! I can’t help when inspiration strikes!” 

Quinn hadn’t been listening. He was focussing in on his own body, wondering when he would know the potion was taking effect. A cold thought hit him and he groaned internally at the possibility that he’d been given the blank. That would be just his luck wouldn’t it? He blamed his mother. It wasn’t logical and it wasn’t fair, but he did it anyway. 

“I don’t care about your inspir-“ Almara stopped. Her face blanched and she looked like she was going to be sick. 

Behind her, Oberon continued to sing and frolic around the fire. 

Kip’s face was awash with concern. It was one of the most genuine masks Quinn had yet to see him don. He took a step towards her, but Almara stuck out an arm telling him to stay back. With a swift movement, she push Jade to the side before collapsing on her hands and knees. 

“What-“ she began but the rest just came out as a long string of pain and curses in a language Quinn didn’t recognise. 

Then Quinn had to blink a couple of times to make sure he was seeing clearly because she began to grow. Every second that passed saw her shoot up bigger and faster until at last it stopped. 

Still bent on all fours, she panted, her periwinkle skin coated a film of sweat that shone like glitter in the flickering firelight. 

Kip and Jade looked up at her - Kip in wonder, Jade in horror. 

Quinn was stunned. She was still shorter than him - that much he could already tell - but on sight only he guess she’d come up to his chest if they were both standing, which would make her about 12-13 feet tall. It was odd, seeing her like this. He could make out the details of her face, the intricacies of the jewellery that decorated her horns. He could see her as he’d been able to see his own people back West. 

When the pain had past and the shock of the transition wore away, she let out a long breath and laughed, running her fingers through her long hair. 

“This is…” She paused, pressing back up onto her knees and examining herself. “Incredible! Ok, stand-up, Quinn. Let’s see!” 

Quinn grinned and got to his feet. 

He was right. He still stood over a head taller than her, but that didn’t seem to dampen her spirits. She looked up at him beaming. 

 “Definitely The Upgrade.” 

Quinn nodded, “I’m biased, but I’d say so.” 

She laughed. Then her gaze turned down to Kip and Jade, who stood with their necks craned. “What do you think?” She asked. 

“It’s fantastic.” Kip appreciated. “You really are a force of nature, love.” 

Almara winked down at him before turning to Jade. Their leader was looking worse for wear. With each new effect, she became more and more skittish. It struck Quinn that maybe for her getting either a potion or a blank was undesirable. They meant she had to either give up control or try to maintain it amongst chaos. The way she looked at Almara though was a whole different emotion.

“Jade?” Almara crooned down at the ranger. “What are you thinking right now?” 

“I’m afraid and confused!” Jade exclaimed. The remaining group stared at her. Her eyes bulged and she frowned, seemingly thrown by her own words. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

Kip squinted his eyes at her and hummed. 

“Interesting.” He purred. “Jade, who do you like more, Gallon or Oberon?” 

“Gallon.” Jade replied without hesitation. She blushed. “Wait, what? I-“ 

Kip laughed, “I was right! It is a truth serum.” 

Jade put her head in her hands, “I hate this game!” 

And she’d never said anything truer. 

Quinn looked at Almara who was studying Jade. There was a fey gleam in her eyes. “That’s fun.” Was all she said, but before she could do anything more, Kip crossed his arms and tutted. 

“You are such a hypocrite!” 

Almara feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I know for a fact that you do.” 

“Whatever.” Almara grumbled. She looked between Kip and Quinn. “Only two left.” 

Kip considered this. “Well, we don’t really know what drove Gallon out into the woods.” He said, running a thoughtful hand through his sea-green hair. His bright eyes met Quinn’s and at that moment, the giant was glad he wasn’t in Jade’s position. “Do you feel anything?” 

Quinn shook his head. “No. Though I don’t really know what to look for.” 

Kip nodded, “I don’t feel anything either. There’s just the blank, The Heart Trap, and The Downgrade left. Based on Almara, I guess we can assumed what The Downgrade would be.” 

His gaze became unfocused and his eyes wide, as if he’d only just realised what that would look like in practice. 

“Well,” Quinn intervened before the thought could spiral. “Maybe that’s why Gallon ran off?” 

Kip came back to himself. “That would make sense, we should probably find him.” When no one made any move to act on that, Kip continued. “Well then. Quinn? Are you desperately in love with me?” 

The bard’s question was so blunt Quinn choked on his own breath. 

“What?” He stammered out, his neck grew hot. He winced when he felt Almara’s knowing eyes bore into him. “No! Why would you even ask that?” 

Kip shrugged, “The Heart Trap sounds like a standard love potion. Not the most original of Ti-afren, but they are fun because they’re always messy.” He paused, contemplating. “My feelings for you remain the same.” 

At that moment, Quinn desperately wished Kip had been the one to get the truth serum. Then he could ask what those feelings were. It was impossible to know what the bard really thought. 

“Well then -“ Quinn began but he stopped. 

His skin grew impossibly cold and his lungs were sucked of oxygen. In that moment, regret flooded him. 

Why had he agreed to this stupid game? 

What was happening to him? 

His stomach churned and twisted, like a wild animal trapped in a snare. His vision continually shifted in and out of focus as he stumbled on his footing. Almara grabbed his shoulders to steady him. 

Huh, strange. 

She must have grown taller, because now they were eye to eye. 

A ringing grew in his ears and his brain felt like it was sizzling in a cast iron skillet. He couldn’t focus, he heard a distant voice call out before the world fell away. 

“Quinn?” 

 *** 

“Quinn!” 

He was being shaken, and none too carefully. The owner of the voice was close, face not too far from his own. Quinn was sitting upright, resting against a tree. 

 No. None of the trees in Halambad are this thick. 

The owner of the voice he’d heard returned to both metaphorically and literally shake him out of his thoughts. 

“Wake up, you annoying little - Gallon, please, a little personal space? Ugh, Quinn!” 

Quinn finally had it in him to open his eyes. What he saw made him desperately want to close them again. There, in front of him, was Kip. The half-elf's beautiful, golden face, painted with freckles, was the same size as his own. The bard’s hands cupped either side of Quinn’s face as his cerulean eyes searched him for some sign that he was ok. 

Quinn reached out with his own hand and brought it to rest on Kip’s shoulder. It fit. It wasn’t too big, it didn’t crush him. Quinn didn’t have to think about how much pressure to apply. There was his hand on the shoulder of the bard, his thumb resting perfectly in the curve of his collarbone. 

It took another moment for Quinn to panic. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, heaving through lungs desperate for air. “I don’t understand.” 

“The Downgrade.” Came a voice from above him. 

Quinn’s eyes scanned upwards to find Almara looming above him, a frown plastered on her much larger face. 

Whatever Kip may say after the fact, Quinn definitely didn’t scream. He didn’t. 

He didn’t. 

“Yes,” Kip grumbled once Quinn had recovered. He used gentle hands to move Quinn’s face around, still scanning for damages. Quinn could feel the calluses on the half-elf’s fingertips, caused no doubt from years of fiddle playing and sailing. “Looks like you lucked out. I think you might be alright now. How do you feel?” 

“I don’t know.” Was all he managed to reply. 

 It turned out that Quinn had only been out for about an hour. However, in that time, quite a few things had progressed. 

Oberon was no longer dancing. Apparently his hallucinations had changed and he was going around knighting anything and everything. While he was unconscious, Quinn had been knighted three different times in three different kingdoms. Kip had at least been smart enough to wrestle Oberon’s sword from him as soon as he’d noticed the change. Now, the knightings were all done with the bow of Kip’s fiddle - something the bard was less than thrilled by. 

Gallon had also returned. Instead of running away due to the effects of The Downgrade as they’d all assumed, he’d run off to “collect things” as Kip put it. He’d returned to camp with arms full of fine clothes and jewellery, bottles of expensive wine and perfumes and had placed them lovingly at Kip’s feet. 

“Where’d he-“ 

Kip pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“He stole them from the market.” He turned to the orc, who’d been standing very closely behind Kip throughout the whole conversation. Upon turning, Kip found himself surrounded by a wall of thick, green muscle, eye-level with Gallon’s chest. He paused a moment to appreciate the view before he met the orc’s big doe eyes. “I’m flattered, but you will return it all in the morning. I don’t fancy another trip to the Halambad jail. You aren’t ready for what you’d have to do to get out.” 

“Ok.” Gallon grinned and brought his face down towards Kip’s, but Kip pushed it aside with a frown. 

“Not when you’re like this, Gallon. It’s no fun.” Then he placed his delicate hands on the orc’s chest and gave him an encouraging push. “Go on. Go gather more fire wood, we’ll need it tonight.” 

Without any rebuttal, Gallon was off again into the woods. Gallon, whose main interaction with Kip was calling him stupid or threatening to kill him, put up no fight whatsoever to the order. 

“That was,” Quinn began but didn’t know how to finish. 

He’d been struck silent by how large Gallon was. At 9 feet, the orc had always been bigger than the rest of the party, but never anything remarkable to Quinn. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with - an immovable object. Living rock. He understood now why they all got so tense when he was upset. 

“The Heart Trap.” Kip groaned. 

In the background, Oberon knighted Jade as she sat around the last remnants of the fire. She told him she thought he was being ridiculous and that exiled princes can’t knight anyone. He knighted her again for her frankness. 

As he went through all the potions and the members of their party, Quinn eyed Kip. 

 “You drank the blank.” 

Kip clicked his tongue, “I knew that this would happen. I knew as soon as Jade pushed for it that I’d be the one to drink it. She had some part in it, I swear.” 

“No, I didn’t.” She called. 

“She’s telling the truth.” Almara said from above them. 

“Why does that matter?” Kip scowled. 

At that moment, there was a loud dragging sound coming from the edge of the forest and Gallon emerged, pulling an entire uprooted tree behind him. 

“No, you big dumb orc!” Kip yelled, stomping over to him, much to Gallon’s delight. “That’s not what I meant!” 

By midnight, Kip had had enough. And while it wasn’t in the spirit of the game, he’d asked Almara to put Oberon, Gallon, and Jade to sleep. She did and assured him that she’d keep watch through the night. 

As he lay on Almara’s bedroll, her shadow looming over him in a way that still caused his heart to panic, Quinn looked up at the trees, standing so much higher above him and the stars that felt so much further away. 

His stomach writhed. 

“Relax.” Kip said from behind him. He’d set up his bedroll next to Quinn’s. Quinn still hadn’t gotten used to how close - how real - Kip was to him at this size. It made his heart dance. “Remember, it’s temporary. But if I go mad in the interim, you have my permission to kill everyone when you’re back to being huge and brutish.”

_______________________________________________________________________

*** Actually, to Dani's surprise, Athra Estra was going well.   As always, Lilah's parents, Ava and Elijah, were lovely and made an excessive fuss over Dani, which was always a lot but also touching. So far, she'd spent the majority of it with Lilah and her brothers, Jasper and Conrad.   She had to admit that every time she was introduced to one of Lilah's relatives or friends, she was on edge. Dani didn't love being ogled and stared at constantly, but she wondered what would happen if the roles were reversed - if Billie brought home a partner the size of a phone, would she be any better? She had enough self-awareness to know she wouldn't. At least she could appreciate that everyone was respectful and kept a safe distance and never lingered too long. Overall, despite being near constantly overstimulated by the volume and crowd, Dani was having a good time. However, towards the end of the day, Dani was reaching her limit and Lilah noticed immediately. She tucked her tiny girlfriend in her hands and carried her, close to her chest, to a quiet backroom off the kitchen. The closest Dani could equate it to was a mud room with a door to the backyard, hooks and storage for coats and boots, and a small table and chairs to rest at. It was on this table that Lilah gently placed Dani down.   Dani looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you," She breathed. "I promise, I'm having a good time but, you know, it's a lot." Lilah nodded and smiled. "Totally fine, even I get overwhelmed some times when we have so many people over. I'm amazed you've lasted this long." "What can I say, Li?" Dani shrugged. "I'm pretty tough." Lilah snorted, "Yeah sure. Miss 'I need to take an hour-long bath every Saturday night to decompress'. You're a real soldier." Dani laughed and made to reply but was distracted by a figure opening the back door.   The giant woman that entered through it was striking to say the very least. Golden skin, bright copper hair that fell to her chest, eyes so blue you risked being caught adrift in them. Dressed in a long white flowing slip dress, she was like an ancient goddess. When she saw Lilah she smiled broadly and stretched her arms out wide. "Lilah!" She said with a voice that sounded like it should be paired with red wine. Lilah turned and delight spread across her face. "Oh my goodness! Tia?" She stood up and ran to the woman, embracing her totally. "I didn't know you were coming?" "Of course!" Tia said with Lilah's head tucked against her shoulder. Then the giant's bright eyes zeroed in on Dani and something she couldn't quite define passed over them. "How could I turn down the opportunity to see you? When your ma said you'd be back for Athra, I cancelled all my other plans." Dani watched as she wrapped her long arms further around Lilah's waist - coiling around her like a snake and holding her there, pressed close, one against the other - and a feeling she wasn't proud of stirred in her. When she uncoiled, Tia cupped Lilah's beaming face in her hands and brought it so close, Dani thought she might kiss her.   Maybe this is just a giant thing. You don't know. Don't assume. "Lilah, my love, it's been far too long since I've seen your beautiful face and I've missed it dearly." She said, and as she said it, it was like her tongue was drenched in honey. This is fine. "I was afraid the humans would rub off on you, but you are just as lovely as ever." Less than fine. Dani clamped her teeth down on her tongue. The giant knew she was there, and either she didn't care that Dani would hear or was explicitly saying it so she would. She could hear her sister Billie in the back of her head screaming at her to not back down, to take out her earrings and call the larger woman out. And maybe Billie would be the only human actually willing to go through with that, but Dani certainly wasn't. She knew her strengths. If she could take a major construction corporation to court over WHS concerns and win, she could handle whatever the hell this was. 

"Speaking of," Lilah said, letting the comment slide. She walked back to Dani and crouched beside the table so that hers and Dani's faces were aligned. "Tia, this is my girlfriend, Dani." 

Lilah's smile was so wide and excited that Dani forgot every doubt that had just fluttered through her mind. She couldn't help but smile back. 

Until she heard a laugh from high above her. 

She turned to find Tia's eyes stabbing into her, icy and sparkling. Dani felt the stare ripple through her whole body, knocking loose all her muscles and bones until she felt like she was just jelly in the shape of a person. 

Tia had a sharp eyebrow raised and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

"So, it's true." She said with a half-smile, crooning like there could be no other news that would delight her more. She raised her chin. "I thought it was a joke. Dani, is it? Did I hear that right?" 

Dani nodded. "Yep, nice to-" 

"- Speak up, love." Tia interrupted, emphasising the command with a wave of her hand. "I can't hear you from all the way down there." 

Dani frowned and a number of potential responses rose like magma from her chest, but before she could use any of them, Lilah laughed. 

"Don't worry, Dani. Tia's just messing with you. That's just what she does." 

Tia shrugged casually but her eyes were stony and cold. 

"Lovely." Was all Dani trusted herself to say. 

Then, from the kitchen, Ava called out. "Delilah, I need you in here washing dishes! Come help me." 

Lilah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, she always has such wonderful timing." She glanced at Dani. "Want to come?" 

Before Dani could reply that 'yes please, she'd do literally anything to get as far away from whoever Tia was and never come across her again', Tia protested. 

"No!" She said, pressing clasped hands to her chest. "Don't take her away. I'd love to get to know Dani a bit better." 

Dani met her eyes and saw a glint in them. There was something predatory about the way they scanned her up and down. Dani paused. Tia had put the challenge before her - would she rise up to meet it, or would she run? It reminded her of something one of the partners of her firm told her after a run-in with a particularly nasty client. 

'O'Brien, the worst kind of people will inflate themselves to feel big and make you feel small, but it's always an act. All it takes is one well-timed hit to their ego and they run off, tail tucked and whimpering. Know your value, don't back down.' 

She wondered if that still applied in this moment. 

Lilah blinked, taken aback seemingly by Tia's eagerness. Brief glimpses of different reactions flashed across her face in a moment. 

"Oh, ok." She said before looking at Dani, searching for confirmation that she was comfortable with the request. "Is that alright?" 

Dani glanced back and forth between Lilah and Tia and closed her fists. 

"Yep." She forced a smile. "I'd be happy to." 

Lilah's stare lingered on her for a second longer. She was unconvinced, but didn't argue.  

"Ok," She said. Then she kissed Dani, covering the whole side of her face with her lips. "Love you." 

Then Ava called out again and, with a huff, Lilah left the room, leaving Dani and Tia alone.  

***  

"So, how do you know Lilah?" Dani asked, staring up at Tia who had sat down on one of the chairs at the table. The giant had her elbows up and was resting her chin on her interwoven fingers, staring down at her. 

"Well, it's funny story actually." Tia replied, drawing it out slow. "Let's just say, I was you before you. If that makes sense." 

Fantastic. 

Dani had met plenty of exes before, finding that they span a spectrum between the loveliest people she'd ever met and people she'd rather die than meet again. And while it was always unpleasant to begin with, she usually felt like she could hold her ground. Now, her ground was a kitchen table the size of a house, and the ex a towering giant far above her.  

"You know," Tia continued, she undid her hands and brought a pointed nail to draw loosely on the table in front of Dani's feet. "We took a break when Lilah wanted to have her little 'adventure with the humans'." At this, she fluttered her fingers as if she found the whole idea a childish fantasy Lilah just needed to get out of her system. "And, I couldn't believe it because, after three years, she's still playing pretend with them! And what's even crazier is that, a year ago, she comes back and tells me that we won’t get back together because she's met someone." 

Oh no. 

"And not just anyone. A human!" She shook her head in disbelief and her copper locks swayed like curtains in a breeze. Her frown was low and dark and Dani hated that the entirety of if was directed at her. "So, when I found out that the human in question would be coming to Athra Estra, I knew I had to see what the fuss was all about." 

Dani clenched her jaw, planted her feet, and cross her arms. 

I won't be bullied. 

"And?" She asked, tilting her head and swallowing down the terror when she met Tia's stare. 

Tia squinted her eyes, and her long, dark lashes blinked slowly. Her brow lowered and she smirked. Dani watched with dread as an idea bloomed across the larger woman's face. 

"And," Tia drawled. She raised the finger she'd been drawing across the table surface and, before Dani could appropriately react, Tia brought it under her chin. Lilah had done something similar before, but this was different. Very different. Lilah was gentle and soft. In those instances, Dani felt more like her chin was resting on Lilah's finger than Lilah pushing her to do anything. She'd never had any other giant come so far into her personal space before, let alone touch her. Tia's nail held her captive. It dug into her skin and forced her to look up. She swallowed and the nail dug deeper.  

"Well, I can see how a human could be a little bit of fun for a while. Especially one so pretty." She purred through it and Dani couldn't stop her breath from becoming haggard and desperate. Her heart was pounding beneath her ribs. Her hands gripped the finger, trying to push it away but it was no use against the larger woman. Tia tutted her tongue and shook her head. "But I think Lilah will come to her senses soon and realise just how silly it is." 

Dani fought everything in her body telling her muscles to freeze and managed to push herself backwards and away from the nail. 

"Don't touch me." She said, and her voice was softer than she'd liked. She rubbed her neck and the feel of the dent on her skin made her burn hot. She cleared her throat and when she next spoke, her voice sounded stronger and firmer than she felt inside. "Don't touch me. Don't talk to me like that. I really don't care if you like me, but I'm a person, and I refuse to be treated like this." 

Tia snorted. "You refuse, do you? That's sweet." 

Then she slammed her fist down on the table right next to Dani making her yelp and stumble back and lose her footing. She fell back on the table, staring with horror at the hand half the size of her own body curled in a tight, white-knuckled fist. 

Above her, Tia laughed. 

"Sorry, darling," She said. "I think my elbow slipped. I really should be more careful." She paused and looked down at Dani. "What were you saying?" 

Tia adjusted her fist and Dani couldn't help but flinch at the movement. She felt her face blanch. Tia hummed. 

"Now, this?" Her smile showed teeth. "This explains Lilah's interest. This is fun." 

Before Dani could scramble away, the fist unfurled and scooped her up from the table, and as she felt the giant fingers curl around her and yank her into the air, Dani couldn't help but scream. She squirmed in the grip as Tia brought it close to her huge, beautiful face. The giant used a finger from her other hand to brush against Dani's hair and every time it made contact, Dani shuddered. 

"Let me go." She managed. 

Tia laughed again but now it was impossibly loud, and the sight of her huge teeth so close sent every one of Dani's nerves into overdrive. 

Lilah, please come back. 

But she knew if she called out, no one would hear her. 

"If I were you, Dani." Tia warned. "I'd be more careful of what I demanded of people who were so much bigger than me. Who could tighten their fingers," At this, Dani felt the grip around her constrict and she struggled to breathe. "A do some real damage. My, with even the smallest movement, I could kill you. And that would be so terrible!" 

Know your value. Don't back down.  

"Then do it." Dani challenged with a strained voice. She did her best to raise her chin. 

In that moment, confusion flicked across Tia's glacial eyes and, for a moment, she seemed unsure. 

"What?" She snarled. 

Dani swallowed down her thundering heart and hoped her face didn't betray just how terrified she was. She’d mastered what Lilah had called her "lawyer face", which was what she used to drive away the flood of imposter syndrome that always came when she was given an important case. So far, it had carried her through a lot of uncomfortable exchanges. She hoped it would see her through now. 

"All you have are empty threats." She said, doing her best to ignore just how much bigger Tia was than her - that she very much could go through with whatever cruel fantasy she'd conjured behind her crystalline eyes. "You say you could do anything to me, that you could hurt me, and I believe it. But you won’t follow through." She lowered her voice and, whether she was conscious of it of not, Tia leant in. "If I were you, I’d think just a little bit. Are you really going to hurt me here? Here? In Lilah's family home, with her in the very next room? With potential witnesses coming in at any moment? That is really, really stupid. If I were you, I’d be smarter than that." 

Tia's expression darkened to a terrible scowl but, to Dani's surprise and relief, the grip around her body loosened. Tia used her free hand to comb through her long hair as she slowly lowered the one holding Dani. When it was back on the table, she opened it and Dani sprawled out, panting.  

"Clearly," The giant said, though her tone wavered. "Humans don't understand a joke when it's right in front of them." She shot a glare down at Dani. "But I would be careful, Dani. Darling. You'd be so easy to lose in this big world. And that would be a tragedy." 

Then she stood up and walked back through the door to outside, leaving Dani heaving in a pile of stress and sweat. 

Eventually, Dani forced herself to sit up. She placed a hand on her chest and felt the drumming beneath her ribs. She let out a long breath and slowly it returned to a normal rhythm.  

She realised just how naive she'd been. All the giants she'd me before were unbelievably kind. She hadn't even considered that one may actively dislike her or take advantage of their significant power over her.  

"I need to be more careful." 

Then from behind, she heard a voice that cleared all the stress and tension away. "Dani!"  

She turned to see Lilah glowing in the doorway, her face framed with her long dark hair. 

When Lilah saw her, she frowned. "You ok?" She walked over to the table and bent down again. "Where's Tia?" 

Even the name sent a ripple down Dani's spine.  

"She left." She said simply, then she ran a hand through her hair, feeling where her sweat had drenched the roots. "Christ, Li, she's a piece of work."  

Concern flashed on Lilah's face and she scanned Dani for any sign of injury. "What did she do?" 

She didn't know why she didn't want to tell Lilah what had really happened. Maybe there was part of her that thought Tia was right - that if she knew how dangerous this relationship could be, Lilah would leave it.  

So Dani just waved her concern off. "It's fine." Then she forced out a laugh and winked. "I scared her off." 

Lilah grinned. "Did you now?" 

"I'm very intimidating, Lilah." 

"I don't doubt it, love." Lilah laughed. "Come on, it's almost sunset. I want to show you something." 

As Lilah stretched her hand towards her, as she had so many times before, Dani flinched. It was something Lilah noticed and something Dani tried to hide. Neither of them addressed it. Dani took a deep breath and stepped onto Lilah's palm and at once, it was familiar again. 

Lilah took her outside. The sky was almost dark and all around, Lilah's friends and family gathered, looking up.  

Then the moment they were waiting for came and from somewhere out of sight, huge fireworks shot up into the black sky like paint splattered onto a canvas. 

They exploded into a thousand different colours and rained down like falling stars from above. Each one sent a boom through Dani's whole body, and behind her, she could feel the jump of Lilah's heart every time. And, despite herself, in that moment, Dani believed in magic. 

"Happy Athra Estra, Dani." Lilah said from above her. 

Then she felt her girlfriend raise her hand and kiss her head. Dani smiled, staring up at the sky, all her fears forgotten. 

"Happy Athra Estra, Li."

_______________________________________________________________________

(Thank you again for the ask! This was really fun to write. I’ve missed my girls. - ray xx)

Quinn's voice was soft but steady, like the tread of green grass underfoot on a spring morning. He didn't have the grit or haughtiness Kip was used to hearing from those told from birth that the world existed in service to them. Kip didn't have that. No one had told him, he'd just always known. That presents differently in one's tonal quality and overall disposition. 

"That was quite the display." Quinn said, his tone even if unsure, stealing a glance at Kip whenever he felt brave enough. 

Kip found his best laugh and bowed low. "The best art uses the best muses, my Prince." He watched as Quinn looked away. He grinned. This was so easy. Then he remembered why the guard said he'd been summoned and he quickly backtracked. "Of course, to entertain is the burden and the privilege of any bard. We exist to perform." 

Prince Quinn's stare returned to the view that Kip couldn't see. He was silent again for a while and Kip took his distraction as a chance to glance at the door. On the other side of the dark room stood the silhouette of the giant guard - too far away to listen, but definitely blocking the path of escape. Clearly, Kip wasn't going anywhere until the Prince was done with him. Well, if that were the case, he wished Quinn would just hurry up with it. Kip was, despite his peril, becoming rather bored. There was something about brooding types that he couldn't stand, or understand for that matter. They, in his opinion, spent far too long thinking about things that never mattered, and not enough time actually living. It was why he avoided any one-on-one interactions with their beloved leader Jade. Any joke he made she would turn into an opportunity to philosophise. Every quip was taken seriously. Every story was a tragedy. If Kip was a shanty, Jade was dirge. 

He'd done his best over the last few weeks to save her from that fate, but no matter how many times he'd told her that rogue ranger types were only interesting in the back of remote taverns, smoking pipes, and telling stories of histories long forgotten, she never listened. She always opted to be the 'silent observer' and, frankly, Kip thought it was played out. 

Quinn was becoming more dirge-like by the second. 

Such a waste of a pretty face. 

Then, as if prompted by his thoughts, the Prince spoke once more, nervous. "It is expected that, after such a declaration, I am to invite you to the contest for my hand, regardless of how... unconventional that may be." Kip watched as Quinn regarded his much smaller figure with a perplexed expression. "But, if I were to do that, you would surely die, and," He paused and muttered breathily. "I wouldn't want that." 

Kip pressed his lips together and frowned. He looked at his hands, scanning them for any potential hangnails. "I can't say I'm fond of the idea either," He said. "But thankfully, there is a simple solution. Don't invite me to contest, and then you can pick a suitor you actually want, and I can leave and never return. Easy." 

"You don't seem to understand." The Prince said. "If I don’t, the court will assume you've refused the invitation, which would not be taken kindly." 

The image of Queen Lindessë's cruel eyes flashed in Kip's mind. He couldn't imagine her extending any further lenience his way, particularly after potentially insulting her son's honour. She had proven, in his opinion, fickle that way. 

Fantastic. 

Kip sighed and rested his hands on his hips. Staring up at Quinn's face, he raised an eyebrow. Somewhere there, hidden behind the glow of his skin, the ridge of his high cheekbones, the shine of his pretty midnight eyes, and his blushed lips was something Kip knew too well. It was the look of someone with something to trade. He groaned internally. 

"I'd never want to offend the court." He ventured, rolling his head on his shoulders. "And I'm assuming you may not feel inclined to explain that misunderstanding away out of the goodness of your sizeable heart." 

The Prince loomed above him, more than triple his height. Kip raised his eyebrows and waited. Finally, Quinn let out a long sigh. 

"I want to come with you." He said at last, his voice was so laden with hope and boyish wonder that it caused Kip to choke on a laugh. "I want to travel with you and your party. See the world. Adventure. All of it." 

Kip couldn't help but grimace. Suddenly, being violently executed didn't sound so awful after all. Anything to get out of this. He looked around. Usually in these situations, he'd find some excuse to remove himself. He'd fake an illness or start a bar fight - anything to give him just enough time to get away. This time was presenting itself as more difficult. 

He sucked his teeth and scowled. 

"Adventuring is one way of phrasing it." He conceded. "Most would call it thievery." 

The Prince's doe eyes widened. "Is that what you are? Thieves?" 

"Yes, most of the time,” Kip droned. "Sometimes mercenaries, sometimes smugglers. It really depends on the job. Anyway, you're set to inherit the most powerful kingdom either side of the Isle. Why turn now at the passing of the sceptre? Believe me, you don’t want our life - I find you like the world a lot more when you haven't seen it." 

"I don’t want to rule." Quinn muttered quietly, turning and resting his arms on the stone railing. "And I definitely don't want to get married. At least not now." 

Kip paused and a deep feeling he usually ignored awoke in him like the stirring of an old memory, shaking off dust. As soon as he'd first seen Quinn, Kip noticed it - the Prince's reluctance, his embarrassment, the weight of a crown too heavy on his head. His desire to run. 

"My condolences. Truly." Kip said with as much sympathy as he was known to openly display. "But there's nothing I can do about that." 

Quinn set his jaw. He was beginning to look more and more desperate. He turned and crouched down in front of Kip so that the bard didn't have to constantly recline his head to look up at him. This close, the giant was remarkably striking. Kip could see every intricate element of the design of his birthright tattoos. He studied each of his long lashes as the Prince blinked, stunned each time he closed his eyes and opened them again. The colour of them - black as the space behind the innumerable stars - seemed impossibly new. He could feel the steady tide of the larger man’s breath wash over him in gentle waves. It took Kip a moment to remember that Quinn was blackmailing him. 

These are the faces that get you into trouble, Kip. You never learn. 

Unaware of his own effect on the half-elf, Quinn continued his plea. 

"Your party seem like interesting folk." He pushed, listing them off on his fingers. "A half-elf, a tiefling, an orc, and two humans?" 

"Yes..." Kip said, drawing it out slow, drowning it in suspicion. He decided not to mention the Fey that was waiting back on the ship for them. He feared the reaction it might elicit. 

Quinn smiled a brilliant smile and shrugged casually, like he were haggling down the price of maize and not proposing to disown his kingdom and leave them as fleeing fugitives for the rest of their days. 

"Well, then, what's a giant in the mix?" 

Kip cross his arms, deciding to speak slowing, punctuating each word to emphasise the gravity of the suggestion. In his opinion, beautiful people were often stupid - it was why Gallon was so handsome and Jade was so plain. Thankfully, Kip was the exception to the rule. However, he could hardly say the same for the Prince and, as such, he needed to be clear. 

So beautiful, but so hopeless. 

"If the giant is the sole heir to the Thelebar throne, then that means we get hunted across the world like rats. That's a giant in the mix." 

Quinn frowned and a shadow passed over his face. In the silence, Kip could almost see the response forming. Then, the Prince stood once more, towering high above Kip and making him crane his neck in a way he never enjoyed. He rolled his eyes. 

Why do the big folk always throw their height around like anyone cares? 

Quinn clenched his huge fists together and stared down at the bard. 

"The way I see it." He said, in a calm tone that sent a shiver over Kip's skin. "You have three options: (1) you can refuse my invitation to contest the betrothal and my mother will certainly kill you for the insult. Violently, I might add. (2) you can accept my invitation to contest the betrothal and one of my suitors with certainly kill you - again, violently. Or (3) you can let me journey with you and your party, and we can just disappear tonight." He pressed his lips together and shrugged. 

Kip's mouth gaped as he met the Prince's eye. He scanned the length of his massive body, taking in his height and width. 

He does understand how large he is, doesn't he? 'Just disappearing' might not be an option. Where would we go? Heron is going to lose her mind. 

For the first time in a very long time, Kip found himself speechless. The last time was when a courtier in Halambad spiked his drink with 'stone-tongue' when she caught him having too much fun with her brother. Though, in Kip's defence, that could hardly count. If he included every time he'd been cursed, drugged, charmed, gagged, enchanted, poisoned, and/or captured, there wouldn't be many days left for him. 

"Well," He exhaled with flared nostrils, biting his lip. "Aren't I the envy of all? Spoiled for choice it seems." 

The Prince eyed him with a stare he was all too familiar with and one he'd come to dread - the kind that said, ‘save me’. It called to mind a terribly awkward break-up with a former, very influential dalliance. What was her name? He couldn’t quite recall. 

'You have a tongue of fool's gold, Kip.' She'd said through wet sobs. 'Pretty, oh so pretty, until you find it is nothing of what it pretends to be. Enchanting in the moment, worthless in the end. I would have forsaken everything for you. I would have followed you anywhere. Only now, I realise you never planned on taking me.' 

Really, it had all been rather awkward. In that instance, starting a bar fight had worked, and he was able to slip away before he had to answer. He never saw her again, but news from his contacts at various ports along the West coast confirmed the same thing: Kip was no longer welcome in Sullis. It was a shame, he liked performing for the Suls. 

Now, he saw that same naive, enchanted hope in the Prince's gaze as he’d seen in hers when they’d first met. He pursed his lips together. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew the party would think it was a bad idea. But none of the alternative options thrilled him either. What had Jade said? No good can come from charming a giant? Squinting up at Quinn’s massive face, Kip had to admit that for once, she might have be right. 

He sighed and clapped his hands. 

"Alright, Master Thelebar. Let's talk terms." 

 *** 

Jade scanned the tree line and set her jaw. 

 Nothing. No sign of their bard. 

After Kip was escorted off, Jade made the executive decision to abandon the job. This business with the Thelebar Prince had made her suspicious from the beginning, no matter what assurances Kip had thrown out to placate her. When she was young, her mother had told her to ‘only wade out in water you can swim in, and never so far as to lose the shore’. 

This job, to rob the prince of giants of his dowry, was already wading into more treacherous waters than she was comfortable in. But now, after being discovered by Queen Lindessë, Kip being personally singled out by the Prince, and having every eye of every giant fixed on them, they had well and truly lost sight of the shore. 

The rest of the group had mixed feelings about the retreat. Almara thought there was greater opportunity to be had and walking away meant potentially never having the chance again. Oberon, though tempted by the promise of the dowry, sided with Jade, muttering something about the ‘Elf being more trouble than he’s worth’. Gallon, as expected, backed Oberon in whatever he decided, though Jade sensed some reluctance in their orc companion. Whether it was the prize of the job or the retreat itself that left him dissatisfied, Jade wasn’t sure, but his large face was stuck in a frown as they packed up camp and loaded their supplies onto the Burnt Sienna. 

Jade stood tall and still on the beach. The breeze had changed direction and was now coming in from the West, which would assist them in leaving the giant shores and crossing the Isle as quickly as possible once, of course, their captain returned. 

Almara had been firm on waiting for Kip. While the thought was tempting after Kip’s own actions had led them to this point, there was no real chance of Jade leaving him behind. For one, he was one of the best sailors to traverse the Isle and they’d never make it far without him. Two, he was a member of their party, warts and all, and she would not abandon him. 

 A small smirk tickled her lips as she pictured how horrified Kip would be at the suggestion of him having literal or proverbial ‘warts’. 

 The Burnt Sienna stood tall and proud behind her, its deep reddish-brown exterior now almost black under the cover of night. It was a large ship. Kip had explained to them early on that a bigger ship meant better jobs. He’d been evasive when she’d asked how he’d procured one so beautiful. Then again, none of them had records a mother could love, so she couldn’t fathom it was through the usual markets. 

Gentle waves lapped at its sides in such a calming way, it would almost be easy to forget that these waters circled the most perilous territory in the world - that this was giant country. One only needed to turn away from the shore, as she had, and look at the tree line to be reminded. These trees were far larger than any found on the East Continent. The smallest ones, where the woods were thinnest, towered at 100 feet at least. Thankfully, Jade’s long years navigating the dark forests of the world had seen them through to the Thelebar Halls, she can’t imagine anyone unfamiliar with the territory attempting to pass unaided. 

This brought her mind back to Kip who, as he often said, had many skills, talents, and delights. However, none of these would help him to find his way to the beach from the Halls alone. She tucked a short black strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head. 

“Kip has been a while.” She said at last. “Shall we look for him?” 

Behind her, leaning against the bow of the Sienna, Oberon snorted. “If the Elf’s dug his own grave, who are we to interrupt the funeral? I say we leave.” 

Sitting on the railing on the deck of the Sienna, Almara made a strangled sound. 

“Shame on you, Oberon! Mind your tongue. Kip is a dear friend of mine, and he saved us all no less than an hour ago.” 

Jade turned to find that Oberon had removed himself from the shadow of the bow to get a view up at Almara. He spread his hands. 

“He saved us from his own error! Since when was settling a debt considered a noble deed?” 

Almara just tutted and shook her head at him, before directing her attention down at Jade. 

“I say, if he’s not back by midnight, we look for him.” 

Jade turned to Gallon. The orc had decided to rest after loading the last of their supplies below deck. He sat on a log, poking at the burnt remains of last night’s fire with a stick only he could reasonably hold. She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Gallon? What do you think?” 

The orc grunted. His thick green lips curled over his protruding canines. 

“Gone by morning.” He said simply. 

Jade nodded. He was right. Queen Lindessë had extended them guest rights for the night only. They couldn’t be harmed until the dawn of the new day. She had strongly advised that they be gone by then, and Jade was in no mood to discover what cruelty the queen of giants was capable of. What she’d heard in her travels hadn’t brought her any comfort. 

“Should we ask Heron?” She said to no one in particular, knowing one of them would answer. 

“She’s asleep.” Oberon said. 

 “And we know what she would say.” Almara added, glaring down at Oberon. “You try explaining to her why we left Kip behind. She’d probably set the ship alight just to spite us.” 

Oberon rolled his eyes but his expression said he knew Almara wasn’t too far off the truth. That was another thing Jade’s mother had always warned her: never upset one of the Fey. 

Almara met her stare. The tiefling’s periwinkle skin took on a silver quality in the moonlight. Her indigo hair was delicately braided around her horns, decorated with gold jewellery, and pulled into a long ponytail high on her head. She wrapped her cloak further about herself and shrugged. 

“I can go with you.” She said. “The boys can stay with Heron and the Sienna and prep for a quick escape if need be.” 

Jade looked at Oberon, who seemed amenable to the idea. He crossed his arms over his leather cuirass, his ebony skin rippling over his biceps. 

“Why is it that ever since the Elf joined the party, ‘a quick escape’ has become the norm?” 

Jade smiled. Before she could reply, a rustling sound from behind drew her attention back to the tree line. Automatically, her hands flew to her bow and she notched an arrow from the quiver on her shoulder. Around her, the party similarly readied themselves. Oberon drew his long sword, Almara’s hands lit up with flame, and Gallon rose to full height, his hammer hanging ready at his side. 

 One eye closed, Jade zeroed in on the source of the sound. 

‘Calm. Never shoot until you see the target, love. That’s not our way.’ 

She waited, and the rest of the group waited for her. They knew the score by now. Whatever complaints they had over her leadership every now and then, in the heat of the moment, Jade made the call. 

Then the moment arrived and they collectively let out a sigh. 

Kip emerged from the undergrowth as though the trees were theatre curtains and he was waltzing out to perform before an eager audience. His arms were spread and his smile was broad as he made his way onto the beach. 

“There’s been a change of plan!” He announced. 

“Oh joy,” Oberon grumbled, lowering his sword. “The bard lives.” 

“Hush, Oberon.” Kip said with a dismissive wave. “Your voice is too abrasive for the place and the hour.” 

At this, Gallon’s whole body - a wall of green skin, scars, muscle, and power - tensed. It was the kind of thing everyone felt. Gallon was, for the most part, mild-tempered. However, he had little tolerance for insults directed at Oberon. They’d all learned that at some point - Kip faster than most. It didn’t stop Kip though, in fact, it seemed to egg him on. 

Kip directed his keen glance over to the orc and placed a gentle hand on his chest. 

“You needn’t worry, my dear Gallon.” He said. “Your voice is rough and rich, and I would listen to it until old age and the cruel wear of time stole my hearing from me. Unfortunately, your brother has not been blessed with your gifts.” 

After a long moment wherein everyone held their breath, the tension left Gallon’s body and the orc grinned. Oberon shook his head, doing his best to restrain a smile. 

“You are so easily bought, brother.” 

Gallon merely shrugged in response. 

Almara descended from the Sienna’s deck, jumping off the railing with the deft skill only a tiefling managed to have. She landed with bare feet deep in the damp sand. 

“So,” She beamed at Kip. “What’s the change of plan?” 

Despite the convincing story the bard’s smile was telling them, Jade noticed his left eye twitch. He ran his delicate fingers through his greenish-blue locks before resting them on his chin. His usually sun-baked golden skin was slightly paler than usual. 

“Well,” He said. “Funny you should ask that actually. It’s a very interesting story, and -” 

Oberon groaned and pinched the bridge of his prominent nose. “Just say it.” He growled. “What mess have you landed us in? Just tell us.” 

Kip’s genial expression flickered and he rolled his shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. His sparkling eyes, the colour of rock pools, blinked. 

“Right.” He said. “Prince Quinn would like to come with us.” 

Jade’s brain went foggy and she questioned if she’d heard him correctly. However, the reactions of the crew were enough to confirm that she had. 

“What?” Oberon said, jaw slack. 

“Please, tell me you’re joking.” Almara added. 

Even Gallon raised an eyebrow. 

Kip avoided all their eyes and shrugged innocently - or as innocently as Kip could ever do anything. 

“He wants to ‘join us on our adventures’.” He explained, using his fingers to mime out the quote. “I think that’s how he put it.” 

“Adventures?” Almara repeated. “Does he know what our lives are like?” 

“I tried to tell him.” 

“Prince Quinn.” Oberon said emptily, as if he were still processing. “As in, the Thelebar Heir. Son of Queen Lindessë, ruler of giants. That Prince Quinn.” 

Kip frowned at him. “You’re slower than usual tonight.” 

“Kip.” Jade warned. 

The bard sighed. “Yes, that Prince Quinn. He cornered me and I was short on options.” 

Jade frowned. “Why leave now?” 

Kip cast his stare in her direction. “Apparently, he’s not too fond of the idea of being betrothed. Or becoming king.” 

A snort escaped Almara. “After that performance, my dear, I think he might just be too fond of the idea of you.” 

Kip raised his chin and winked at her. “He wouldn’t be the first, love.” 

“Can we focus, please?” Oberon chastised. Jade had never seen him so tense. “The Prince wants to leave his kingdom… with us?” 

Kip clicked his tongue. “Didn’t you do the same?” 

Oberon’s face looked like Kip had just slapped it. 

“I was exiled, you dimwit.” Off to their left, Gallon huffed. “Sorry.” Oberon corrected. “We were exiled.” 

Kip’s patience for the minutia of the details was quickly waning. Ironic, since he was the one, once again, changing the details. 

“Right,” He said. “Yes, very tragic. Both of you. But really, what is escape if not self-imposed exile?” 

At this, something clicked in Jade’s brain. She studied Kip and he was soon aware of it, flinching just so under her stare. Kip had always avoided spending too much time with her and yet, she felt she understood him fairly well. 

“You’ve already agreed to this, haven’t you?” She asked. 

The group turned to Kip and waited. 

The half-elf gasped. 

“Without consulting with the party?” He said. “Absolutely not. I would never.” 

At that moment, before any of them could ready their weapons, a huge figure emerged from the tree line and presented themselves on the beach. Standing approximately 17 feet tall, he looked remarkably like the giant prince from the Thelebar Hall. Jade and the rest of the group, bar Kip who still had his back to the trees, stared up at the stranger. Jade’s stomach lurched. 

“Hello!” The giant waved a massive hand in their direction. 

Kip clicked his tongue again. 

“Then again.” His voice was strained. “I might have. Yes. Now that I think about it, I did. Yes.” 

“Lindessë will hunt us down to the end of the Earth and march us off the edge by the point of her sword.” Oberon whispered, his gaze never leaving the Prince. 

“There is no end of the Earth.” Kip replied. “I’ve looked.” 

Jade shook her head. “Not the point, Kip.” 

There was an awkward pause wherein nothing happened and nobody moved. The party was, largely, unfamiliar with giants. All of them, save Kip, had seen them for the first time that night. Now, one wanted to join them? 

A million questions raged around Jade’s head, though she asked none of them. The main one was “How?”. How would a giant in their group work? How would they get back across the Isle with one on board? How could they escape Lindessë? How could they continue their work back on the East Continent with one shadowing them the entire time? She didn’t know. They had well and truly waded out too far. 

Thankfully, Jade wasn’t forced to break the silence, Almara took that role upon herself. She forced a smile and walked over to the Prince who awkwardly knelt on one knee before her. 

“I for one,” She said, doing her best to appropriately project her voice, “Am intrigued by our new addition.” She turned to the Prince and extended out her arm - an act by any account worthy of praise. “I am Almara Blackstrand, and I look forward to a long and prosperous friendship with you, my Prince.” 

The Prince swallowed and stared down at her small hand before he took it in his much larger one and, with a concerted effort, lightly shook it. 

“Uh, thank you.” He said, shuffling in his squat. “You can just call me Quinn.” 

Almara grinned again and nodded, retracting her hand. “Ok, Quinn.” 

“He’s going to get us killed.” Oberon whispered to the rest of the group. 

 To his chagrin, giants proved to have better hearing than they’d otherwise assumed, and Quinn’s dark eyes found him. The giant’s face reddened but he pushed through with a smile. 

“I will try my best not to.” 

“Great.” Oberon grumbled. “I’m convinced.” 

“Stupid, Kip.” Gallon shook his head. 

“Yes, Gallon,” Kip nodded, his expression tight. “Noted. Thank you.” 

Oberon turned to Jade and, slowly all eyes present followed suit. 

“Jade?” He said. “What do you think? We will follow your call.” 

Jade let out a long breath through her nostrils. She glanced at Kip and whispered in the lowest voice she could manage. 

“No other options?” 

For the first time in a long time, Kip looked genuinely unnerved. He replied with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. His perfect hair fell about his freckled face in a mess. 

“None that would end well.” He whispered back. 

Jade nodded and her attention went to Quinn who remained kneeling on the beach. She walked over towards him, marvelling at how much bigger he was than the rest of them. 

And she thought Gallon was large. 

She swallowed down the innate dread urging her to retreat, and crossed her arms. 

“My name is Jade Cavernthorne. I think all of us can, in some way, empathise with your situation.” She said. “We may not always operate on the right side the law, but we can still make some claim to honour.” She grew serious. “If you come with us, you follow our rules and you pull your own weight. Understand?” 

“I mean, who else could?” Oberon muttered loud enough for Jade to hear, meaning that Quinn heard it too. 

For his part, the giant ignored the comment. His large dark eyes were focused solely on Jade and she did her best to remain calm under it. After a moment, he beamed. 

“I can do that.” He promised with more surety than Jade thought he could afford. 

Jade sighed and nodded. Behind her, Oberon groaned. 

Almara smiled and pat a gentle hand on the giant’s leg. “There we are.” She said. “Welcome to the family, Quinn.” 

From beneath the shadow of the Sienna, Kip balked. “The what?” 

Jade turned, eager to get the giant out of view, and marched back to the ship. “Ok, it’s settled.” She called so that all present could hear her. “Get ready to depart.” 

As she passed Kip, she grabbed his bicep and pulled him close. 

“He’s your responsibility now, got that?” 

Not waiting for his response, she released the half-elf and made her way towards the ship. Before boarding, she heard Oberon whisper to Gallon. 

“I don’t know if you’re still the strongest, brother. We have more pressing concerns.” 

 *** 

As they sailed away into the East, Quinn, cramped on the deck, stared back at the continent that had been his entire world. Everything he’d ever known was everything he was leaving behind. The breeze whipped through his hair. 

I’m really doing this. 

Other than Kip standing behind him at the helm, there wasn’t a soul on deck - the rest of the party were below. Suddenly, Quinn heard the bard begin to sing in a cracked and husky voice - softly, as if only to entertain himself on the long journey through the night. 

“West is where the traveller goes  when the wandering days are done. It’s where the night farewells the day, at the setting of the sun. West is where the oldest shore fights back against the swell. It’s where a story goes to die, when there’s no one left to tell. 

But if, my dear, you seek to roam, upon the Eastern shore - come, meet me there. Come, meet me there! We’ll walk forevermore. 

 In Camroth-Kar and Dannedah, in Halambad and Lile, in Finryeth and Gal-Rok-Nash, and Sullis-on-the-Isle.  We’ll journey there. We’ll journey there. If you’ll walk with me a while. 

 But if nothing else could bid you come to walk this life with me, perhaps, far West, I’ll meet you there on a shore across the sea.”

_______________________________________________________________________

I will emerge from my hole to post this and disappear again because I’m in my goblin era. A follow-up to a story I wrote forever ago. Enjoy! - ray xx

Daksh swallowed his thundering heart. "What?" 

Her grin widened and she shrugged with a smug nonchalance. "If it's so important to you, come get it." 

She held the helmet so that it was level with him, but so that he'd have to come off the platform and within a couple of meters of her face in order to do so, neither of these he liked. He stared at the helmet. 

"I mean," He shrugged, wrapping his fists around the railing behind him. "You could just give it back." 

"I could." She replied but made no move to follow through with that. 

They sat there in the tension - neither moving, neither conceding. When it became apparent that the only way he'd get the helmet back would be by playing along with whatever Shami had in mind, he groaned. 

"Ok," He said shakily, his hands loosening on the railing. "But no funny business.” 

Funny business? 

Shami just smiled and it did nothing to reassure him. 

He inched his way off the platform, closer and closer to her face, within proximity of her claws. 

Don't think about it. Just get the helmet. 

The closer he got, the more he could hear and feel her breathing and the further her shadow engulfed him. Once he got to the hand that held his lifeline, he frowned. She'd moved it higher so it was now just out of his reach. 

"Really?" 

"What?" 

"Could you - uh - lower it?" 

"Too high for you?" She said but she lowered the helmet so that, if he fully extended his arms and got up on his tip toes, he could just wrap his fingers around the base of it. With a definitive tug, he pulled it from her grasp and clutched it close to his chest once more, breathing deeply. 

Shami let out a like chuckle, or what Daksh assumed was a chuckle. What if on her planet, that was actually a sign of extreme aggression, or hunger? He watched with apprehension as she rose to full height once more. 

His gaze followed her as she wandered to the corner of the cell, grabbed the back of a metal chair and dragged it over to the table where he remained standing, trapped and frozen. The chair seemed to be the only piece of free standing furniture in the cell - the table and bunk were both bolted to the wall. She sat down in it and leant back. She then raised her legs and crossed one on top of the other on top of the corner of the table. Standing only a few meters away, Daksh couldn't help but stare in horror. 

Then something happened that Daksh did not expect. 

Suddenly, from behind him, Shami's other hand swooped in and wrapped its long fingers around his waist. 

"What - FUCK!” He cried out instinctively as his feet were hitched up from the surface of the table. His stomach lurched with the motion, and he squirmed in Shami's grip, clutching at the fingers wrapped around his middle with one hand and doing his best to maintain his hold on the helmet with the other. The sensation was so foreign - so wrong - that his brain couldn't help but register it as a threat. 

Shami brought him down to sit on her perched knee so that they could look each other in the eye without him having to crane his neck or her having to crouch down. 

This wasn’t an ideal position for Daksh, noting how he could feel every tiny micro-movement of her body beneath his - so small she'd never know she was making them. But he did, and he did his best to put them out of mind. That and the fact that any wrong move by her would lead to his early funeral. Seeing as he'd already told McBride that he'd outlast her, that would be beyond embarrassing. 

Once he was as oriented as he could be in that situation, he looked up her. 

"Can you please not do that?" He said through a tight jaw. 

She crossed her arms and shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Do what?" 

He gestured back down to the table where he'd been standing moments before. 

"That! Don't just grab me without warning!" He said, running his hands through his hair. "Not ok." 

She laughed and he felt it ripple through her whole body which did nothing for his sense of security. "Ok, I'll let you know before I do it next time." 

Daksh frowned. "Not what I meant at all.” 

She dismissed him with a wave of her huge hand. Her eyes closed almost totally in a playful squint as she smiled at him. Up on her knee, totally at her mercy, Daksh couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. 

“Now.” She said. “Let's talk.” 

Daksh swallowed. 

I’m definitely going to die. 

***

Communications Technician Dr Julian Halliday  Age: 26 Log No.: 198 Cycle No.: 192 Year: 2199 Location: Garbage Disposal Deck, Extra-Terrestrial Vessel. 

This is Dr Julian Halliday, logging and reporting on the status of the ITV Europa Vessel and its crew. 

Despite my misgivings, we have successfully tracked and boarded the extra-terrestrial vessel with all crew members suffering relatively minimal injury - 

(- see, halliday? nothing to worry about! -) 

- nari, i'm making a log! - 

We have yet to sight any of the ship's inhabitants. Captain Barnes is currently out of action as a result of the perilous free flight and is recovering in an ITV pressure cell. According to their own assessment, the Captain should be operational in a few hours, but we don’t have any qualified medical personnel with us to confirm that prognosis. That can happen when you barrel head-first into danger without a second's thought. 

(- calm down, halliday, we made it here in one piece, didn’t we? -) 

- calm down? how am I meant to calm down, nari? we just free flew onto an alien spaceship with no idea of what we're doing or what we're up against. we don't know if the ITV's taken damage - but I can almost guarantee that it has. at any given moment, the ship that we're currently on could jump to light speed, and if that happens, we'll never be able to get back. we know for a fact that the species that have malik and mcbride are at least 60ft tall and are heavily armed. oh, and barnes is out, leaving one lieutenant and a comms tech to carry out a fraught rescue operation. did I forget anything? - 

(- yeah, you did. i think i have something stuck in my teeth - maybe from lunch? could you make a log of that too?-) 

- this is serious, nari. we're probably gonna die here, you realise that right? - 

.

(- look, jules. i know, things are pretty intense, but freaking out about how fucked we are isn't helping anyone - not me, not you, not the two techs we're here to help. things are shit, but we'll just have to take it one step at a time until it's a little less shit. if we do that, i think we'll be ok. -) 

- you're not worried? at all? seriously? - 

(- seriously. -) 

. 

 - i don't understand you... How do you- whatever. what should we do first? - 

(- good question. we need to check for any damage on the ITV. once we know, we can figure out what to do next. ok? -) 

. 

. 

. 

- ok. - 

(- so stop the log and come give me a hand. -) 

. 

- ok. - 

This is Dr Julian Halliday. Log 198. Signing off. 

***

They'd spent about an hour doing checks and repairs. Jules couldn't believe they were wasting that much time but, in a rare display of patience, Nari insisted they make sure no critical damage had been done and that any necessary repairs were noted and made before they had to escape with the Enceladus crew. 

She now stood beside him and dusted off her hands on her uniform, staring back up at the ship. 

"No major damage." She said. "Not bad, if I do say so myself." 

"I don’t think I'll ever recover from free flight." Jules said, looking at the ITV, parked in the alien garbage disposal bay. "I don't know if the ITV will either." 

"Hey!" Nari snapped. "You try navigating your ship up the waste disposal shoot of a bigger ship. It's rough." She paused, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head. "That sounds really bad, said out loud." 

Jules frowned at her and reluctantly laughed when he met her eye. 

"Hopeless." 

Nari shrugged, "Won't argue with you there." 

She scanned up and down the ship and nodded. 

"It'll need a few repairs, but nothing critical." She nudged Jules with her elbow. "Not as bad as you thought, aye, Halliday?" 

"Touch wood." He replied. "What about Barnes?" 

"Captain's still out of commission. Free flight can really take it out on older folks. Barnes has done better than most, but won't be on their feet for a bit. Hopefully sooner than later." She exhaled deeply through her nose. "I've left them with the list of repairs, so they can start on them when they wake up. Meanwhile," She clapped Jules on his shoulder. "Looks like you're with me, Halliday." 

Halliday was about to protest, she could tell immediately from his panicked eyes and high-pitched voice, but she cut him off with a raised hand before he could spiral too much. She put both hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her. Gripping him steadily, she did her best to centre and ground him. 

"Look, Jules, I know this is a lot to process." She said. "But I need someone to watch my six. Barnes is out and I'm not exactly spoiled for choice here. You just need to follow my lead and, I promise, you'll be fine." 

She ignored the tickling of doubt at the back of her mind and released Halliday. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she frowned. 

"Ok," She said after a moment's silence, more to herself than him. "We're going to go arm up, and then we'll set out. I want to scope out where we are on the ship, get a look at these aliens, and see if we can get a read on where the techs are being kept. After the scout, we can come up with a rescue plan." 

Jules was pale. 

"I'm not trained for any of this." He said softly, blank-faced and dazed. 

"If it makes you feel any better, Jules." Nari said, looking around at the giant room they were in, hands firmly on her hips. "I wasn't exactly trained for this either." 

With a short nod and a set jaw, she began walking back towards the ITV entrance. From behind her, she heard Jules balk which made her smile through the uncertainty. 

"Why would that make me feel better?" 

*** 

Rationally, Daksh knew that if Shami really wanted to hurt him, she would have done it already. At least, that's what she'd told him, and Daksh had believed her - truly a sucker for a pretty face (even if that face was almost as tall as he was, was purple, had horns, and belonged to a criminal.) 

Then again, technically I'm a criminal. My parents would be so proud. 

"No one's ever met a human before, and now there's one in my cell, sitting on my knee." She said, shaking her head in disbelief before fixing him with an impish stare. "Do you know what the Drun call your planet, Daksh?" 

Daksh frowned. It was an odd question. Immediately, the thought that 'Earth' wasn't the universal name for their little blue planet was strange. Of course, logically that made sense, 'Earth' wasn't even the name used by all its inhabitants, but it was the privilege of the residents to call their home whatever they liked. The idea that strangers looking in had their own name for it felt wrong to him - like they didn’t have the right. Then again, he couldn’t imagine the inhabitants of any of the exoplanets humans had 'discovered' would be too fond of the names they'd been christened with. 47 Ursae Majoris b, wasn't exactly catchy. 

"What?" He said, drawing it out. 

"Tukni." She answered. 

Daksh glanced around and shrugged. "You say that like it means something." He paused and frowned before looking at her. "Does it mean something?" 

"Yes," She grinned. "But you won't like it." 

"Wouldn't be the first thing today." 

She laughed again, a long rich sound that bounced around the cell. "Bad day?" 

"Not a favourite." 

She hummed and nodded. "A Tuk is a small rodent on the Drun's home planet. It’s very loud for its size and quite ugly."

"Oh." Daksh's voice was flat. "Charming." 

The look Shami gave him made his cheeks flush. 

"Earth is very loud." She explained. "It is always broadcasting, sending out messages - shouting into the void and waiting for the echo. The Drun find it very annoying. 'Tukni' means 'of Tuks'. They don't like you very much." 

"Well, I can't say I'm a fan of them either." Daksh grumbled. "But it's not like we've done anything to them. Why do they hate us so much?" 

For the first time since the Drun had entered the cell, Shami's face darkened and grew sombre. And while it was a terrifying sight in and of itself, Daksh knew it wasn't directed at him and so, strangely, he felt vindicated. Finally, there was someone else who hated the Drun as much as he and McBride. 

"The Drun are tyrants." She said. "They control everything in the sector - they monitor all communication, all interaction between systems, transport and trade, everything. The systems that are advanced enough to be a threat are kept under constant surveillance. You humans have walked that line for a while. You're not advanced enough to leave your own system, you don't know anything, and you're definitely not a threat to the power of the Drun. But you just keep broadcasting and that's dangerous. Most of the time, we don't understand what you are trying to say, but it's like a beacon of hope for the rest of us under Drun control." 

"Really?" 

Shami nodded, almost nostalgically. 

"Yes. Really. Unaware of the danger, not knowing what was out there or who was listening, there was this little planet, surrounded by tyranny and oppression, out on a wayward spur. It kept sending out messages, and pictures, and music, reminding us of love and freedom and curiosity. Somewhere there was life uninhibited." Her face fell again, and her eyes glazed, drawing back in on herself. "You will never know what lengths some went to just to send something back… or what it cost." 

"We never got anything back." Daksh said, his brain feeling numb. "If our broadcasting was such an issue for the Drun, why didn't they just shut us up? Gag order, that kind of thing?" 

Shami shrugged. "I don't know. I'm sure the Drun have their reasoning for keeping their distance from your kind. Though," She said before shaking herself out of the mood she'd created. Once again, the sly, playful grin returned, leaving Daksh to recover from the jarring mood shift. She brought a large finger to rest on his head and ruffled his long hair. "That seems to have changed with you, Tuk." 

"Ok, that name better not stick." Daksh said, fixing his hair with mixed results. Shami hummed. "Really? I think it suits you." 

They sat in silence for a bit before Daksh worked up the courage to ask something that had been plaguing him since they first encountered the Drun. 

"How are you speaking English, Shami?" 

Shami tapped the side of her neck. 

"It's the chip. There are far too many systems in Drun territory - thousands and thousands of native tongues. They realised fairly quickly that that makes it difficult to maintain control. So, they developed a database of all known languages in the sector and, using the chips, the Drun can upload any language they want into your brain. Everyone with the chip can speak Drunan, or, more importantly, everyone with the chip can understand Drunan." 

"So, it is a babel fish!" 

"What?" 

"Nothing! So, you got English? Why?" 

"I 'got English' because I was getting a new cellmate. Lucky me.” Shami paused for a moment, as if caught by a sudden idea. “It is a bit odd. Usually they limit access to Drunan only so that, if you want to speak to other prisoners, you have to speak a language the guards can also understand. It prevents any kind of organising. The prison population here is so diverse, that almost no one speaks the same native tongue anyway.” 

Daksh frowned. His hand went to the chip on his neck or, more accurately, the swollen bump where his skin had forcibly grown over it - red, and painful, and irritated. He winced, and the memories of Dr Mei pressing a gigantic pair of tweezers to his neck flashed through his mind. 

He tried searching his brain for any traces of a language he didn’t know, but it proved a challenge. Apparently, it's hard to look for knowledge in your head that shouldn't be there. 

"I don’t think anything's changed with me." He said when the search came up empty. "I don't think I can speak… What was it? Drunish?" 

“Drunan.” Shami corrected. “Well, that would explain why they gave me our language. Yours is a pretty small brain, Tuk. It might not be able to take the upload." 

Daksh crossed his arms. ”I have two PhDs, Shami." 

"That doesn't mean anything to me." 

"It means… I'm smart, ok?" Daksh said, feeling a bit like a dork. "I'm pretty sure my brain could take the Drun DLC download. I'm an expert." 

Shami cocked an eyebrow. ”What are you an expert in?" 

Daksh began listing on his fingers, feeling just a bit smug. ”Microbiology, Astrobio-." 

“-Microbiology?” Shami interrupted. “What’s that?” 

“Oh right, it’s the study of tiny organisms." 

Shami’s eyes glinted. ”You would be an expert on that." 

"Moving on!” Daksh grumbled. 

"Is that what you were doing on your moon?” She asked. “Researching?" 

Daksh was quiet. Suddenly embarrassed, he nodded. 

“What were you researching?” 

Daksh stared the alien in the face as they shared a cell on a ship full of aliens. 

"Well, it's going to sound stupid now." 

"Come on, tell me!” 

Daksh signed and ran a hand through his long hair. He rested his elbow on the helmet is his lap and his chin in his hand. ”I was looking for signs of life beyond Earth." 

Shami made a face he didn’t enjoy and pressed a hand to her chest. 

”Oh, that is so sweet." 

"Ignoring that.” He groaned, eager to redirect conversation towards something where he wasn’t the punchline. “Anyway, why did they chip me if they weren't going to give me the Duo Lingo cheat code?" 

"I don’t know what that means, but I wouldn’t be so eager for it if I were you.” Shami warned, her tone growing an edge that hadn’t been there before. “Using the chip, the Drun can give you access to any language, yes, but they can also take it away. They have a direct line to your brain now. Think about that." 

Daksh swallowed. He felt a twirling, writhing sensation grow in his gut, and bile build in his throat. He stared up at Shami, her expression downcast. 

“Did that happen to you?” 

She took a long breath. "I don't remember my own tongue anymore. I wouldn’t recognise it if I heard it. I couldn’t speak it if I tried. My name had meaning once but the Drun took that from me a long time ago. I feel like I’m wearing someone else's skin." 

Daksh felt a sudden cold clamminess wash over him. His mouth hung open in a way he was aware of but couldn’t seem to correct. What would it be like to no longer be able to remember your own language? How would it feel to not only have to speak but think in the language of your oppressors? He couldn’t fathom it. As he thought, the bump on his neck throbbed angrily. He did his best (and failed) to ignore it. 

Suddenly, he felt like humans were better off being left in the dark. 

”Why'd they take it away?" 

Shami ignored the question and his gaze. 

"They can track you with the chip, you know. That's probably why you have it.” She said, then she forced a smile that almost convinced him. “You’d be fairly easy to miss - so small they need a computer watching your every movement.” 

Daksh groaned, deciding that if the giant alien criminal didn’t want to discuss the details of her punishment, it would be unwise to attempt to push it. He still remembered what the Drun had said about the last person to share her cell. Best not push his luck. 

”Ok, Shami.” He said. “You've had your fun. You know, back on Earth, I'm actually above average height." 

Shami hummed. “That’s funny, Tuk." 

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(My space idiots are back! Daksh made a new friend that makes him uncomfortable, Jules and Nari are way out of their depth, and McBride is nowhere to be seen. As always, let me know what you think! - ray xx)