#hi tovi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

worm-wood-dawning · 1 month ago

Text

Sentinel Station: Chapters 1-5 (revised with a few changes but I SWEAR I'll keep things like this and not go back and make a million changes)

Content Advisories - Domestic violence, sexual assault, police violence, sex work (honestly consider that one a standing warning for a while), implied child abuse, mentioned stillbirth, minor self harm, a suicide attempt and a potentially cringe scene of two characters trying to talk through a language barrier.

10,000 words

Chapter 1: Farm Girl

Veniae-di

Colony Outpost 9

2276, 3rd Standard Cycle

Carina, Age 15

Carina adjusted her mask and scarf, turned off her left eye and slid up her dark glasses. They did little against the sunlight streaming down, bouncing fiery off the mix of human and avaki ships docked ahead. She pressed her hands over her ears. They were similarly ineffective against the noise - the murmur of human tongues from the few permitted to speak, the low buzz of waiting vessels, the screeches of takeoff and distant ripping of the sky. Hyperspace. That she’d been able to hear before, and even then she’d never gotten used to the sound of it, to the boom of the opening air and the static hum that emanated from behind it.

Sorry, Rina. A deep, soft voice echoed in her mind. Your implants will settle down soon.

Carina nodded, looking up at the woman beside her. She looked older than her seventeen years, narrow black eyes scanning the crowd and her bottom pair of arms crossed, hands on her hips. With the top pair she twisted stray hairs around her fingers and tapped her violet mouth, one claw clicking against a tooth poking out from her bottom lip. Long grey horns curled out under the veil tied over the dark braids trailing down her back, white with purple trim between her pointed ears. Fine, light blue fur covered her azure skin. A smart brown jacket hung on her wide shoulders and a brown skirt fanned out around her ankles, the tip of a long, striped tail peeking out of it.

No paint and ropes yet? Carina asked, also speaking internally. She kept the thought quick, though she doubted anyone could break into their conversation, or that they would care to.

I'm still a civilian. Tovie rolled her eyes. Wouldn't get much anyway.

Right, sorry. Carina replied. Tovie had tried to explain avaki military structures to her before but she had never quite understood, especially where women were concerned. Are… are you sure we-

Relax, Rina. We're blending in just fine.

Right . She swayed on her feet, trying to ignore the weight of her backpack, or the dull pain in her head. It was just the price of speaking this way. Now, you said I'm…. Nevermind, sorry. The line's moving.

They both fell silent, to the extent they could, and waited as the two groups ahead were scanned and cleared to board. Carina had seen whales in old lesson vids before. They were strange marine mammals that had only existed on Earth, with few analogues on other worlds and none on Veniae-di. The avaki ship reminded her of them, all seamless curves of undulating blue and grey, the metal they were made from like a liquid held in place, a miniature ocean shielding a miniature world.

Alright, we're up. Tovie squeezed her hand. Don't worry, Rina.

Carina nodded. Her hand fell at her side.

An avaki man stood by the ship’s door, his arms crossed. White ropes were strung around them, straining against his muscles, and white paint covered his face and torso, thin and flexible but hard and smooth, with a sharp and intricate pattern made by the bits of blue skin left bare. He looked them over.

“Identification?”he asked aloud. Whether it was because he couldn't attune himself to Tovie, or that he thought his harsh voice would keep Carina in line, no one could be sure.

"As you ask, ve'ek-sen." Tovie held out one hand for the man to scan.

“Let's see.”he said, not returning her formal greeting. “Of clan Kallis, Tovrek. Off to service. Com-sec, too. Rather good, for a woman. Then again, I doubt your clan would accept less. And this one…” He pointed at Carina. “...is your…?”

“My servant.”Tovie said. “She's fully registered. For comfort and general assistance, ve'ek-sen."

“I suppose that is your right. Still, a coms officer bringing a human along….” His lips pursed, two long teeth jutting from the top.

“Oh don't worry.” Tovie scoffed. “She's a farm girl. Barely literate. I doubt she even understands what we're saying right now, and I won't be getting her a translator.”

The man nodded. “Your chip, girl.”

As they had practiced, Carina blinked and stared wide eyed just past the man. Tovie grabbed her hand and held it out. She forced her breathing to stay steady and hoped the man couldn't hear her heart race, that he couldn't break into her head. Tovie had rewritten her ID chip with a false identity, part outright falsehoods and part the truth of a girl who had recently died. The override would only last so long, if it worked at all. She bowed her head.

“Lisa.” The name sounded strange in the man's mouth, unused to any human language. “Of clan Hall.” He scrutinized his netpad. “Four year contract.”he said to Tovie. “Says she's old enough. Hardly looks it, though. A good find.”

“Appreciated, ve'ek-sen. May we-”

“Yes, yes, go on ahead through the decon scanner.”

“Thank you, ve'ek-sen. Now.” She switched to the human common tongue. “Come along, girl.” The words flowed naturally, stern and harsh.

Still silent, Carina followed her. A blue glow ran over them, concentrating on their bags. It felt suddenly heavier, the frayed copy of 116 like a boulder inside it. Once the machine was sure they carried no contraband, a second door slid up to let them enter the ship. A wave of cold air washed over her. The light changed from blazing sun to a sickly fluorescence on silver walls. A crowd of avaki, mostly men, milled about. Multiple faces turned to them both. She shivered.

“Come, girl.” Tovie took her hand and pulled her down a corridor. Her hooves clicked on the metal floor. “Yes, here we are.” She let go, unlocked the room and nudged her inside. “Quiet.”

Carina obeyed, shifting on her feet and tapping the straps of her backpack as Tovie inspected the thin room. It was all bare silver metal with two panels stuck out from one wall. She assumed they hid a sink and toilet. A small mattress was folded away opposite to her. She watched the door, her heartbeat quick again. None of the men in the entrance had been familiar. No one was coming. She repeated that in her head, running her thumbs over the canvas pressed against her chest.

“Alright.” Tovie stuck a small, translucent disk to the wall. She turned to Carina, her hands moving through the air before her, fingers spelling out words they had spent so many long nights learning together, the only language they had both grasped beyond each of their races’ common tongues. “That should help.”she signed.

“Are you sure they won’t see us?”Carina asked, the words small and close to her chest.

“Not clearly.”she answered. “And translators don’t pick up sign language. By the time they figured out what we’re saying, we’d already be gone.”

Carina nodded and tried to smile, biting her nails.

“And, sorry.”she continued. “For out there, Rina.” Her words were slow. “I had to be believable.”

“I… understand.”she replied. “I'm just glad we're here now.”

“What did I tell you?” She grinned down at her. “Nothing to worry about. I'm just that amazing.”

“You weren't nervous at all, Tovie?”she asked, her movements clipped, lightly chiding.

“Okay, maybe a little.” She shrugged. “But we're fine now. Takeoff soon. And look, we have a window!” She pulled down the bed, leaving them barely room to stand, and pressed a button on the wall. It parted and light streamed in. “Come here, let's watch.”

Carina dropped her bag and knelt on the mattress. It was as hard as it had looked. Tovie pulled her close, one arm around her shoulder. She didn't know if it was an actual window or even a real time display. It didn't matter. She'd been too anxious in the shipyard to even take a final look. Now, green and red and purple fields stretched before her, under the shadows of towering old black trees. There was corn and soy and wheat of course, and rice somewhere far away - all of it heavily modified, but far more of the fields were full of avaki crops, the trees heavy and bright with fruit that humans couldn't touch. Between the fields were chaotic columns of stack houses, tiny boxes of thin plastic that had been unfolded on the spots where they stood. They were little more than walls to guard against the elements, with the upper levels only accessible by outside ladders. Somewhere nearby, just out of view, was the Kallis tower, a citadel of metal and glass that loomed over the human community of Outpost 9.

“Is it… gentler out there?”she asked, trembling. “You… you've left a few times.”

Tovie rested a hand on her head, fingers in her hair, claws retracted, before she signed again. “It is.”she lied. She gripped Carina's shoulder. I… will petition the Spirits for you. And I'm… sorry, Rina, that I couldn't-

"It's… okay."she lied in return.

No, it's not, and-

It's not your fault.

It's not yours either.

Carina didn't answer, staring at the fields. She had said goodbye to her mother. The final word had been met with silence.

May I?

She nodded and Tovie took her hand, a warm and strong grip.

“Takeoff in forty five seconds.”a low voice announced over a speaker.

They each sat, holding one side of the bed. The ship lurched.

“The Station isn't so bad.”Tovie whispered. “It's crowded, but… but it's not the worst place. And I promise I'll-”

I know you won't be able to talk much. Military monitoring. Hard to get around even for you. I know I'll be on my own. She swallowed and rubbed her eyes. “It's okay.”she lied.

“I'm sorry.”

She said nothing. The ship lurched and she fell sideways. Barely glancing at her, Tovie lifted her hand, the air shimmering around it, a Vital field that held her up. Her heart raced, the only part of her that could move, and a cry lodged in her throat.

Sorry. Tovie looked down at her with mournful eyes. She laid her hands on Carina's shoulder again. It's still reflex.

"It's fine."she lied, and watched the fields shrink. They disappeared. The window closed.

Want to sing? No one else can hear.

She blinked. Her mouth was dry. Tovie was the first one who'd listened to her, the first one who hadn't tried to beat silence into her.

"The sand in the wind is... is...." Her throat closed and shoulders slumped.

I'm sorry.

Tovie squeezed her hand.

Are you sure you're okay, Rina?

She nodded. “We're…." We're.... Her voice cracked and mind fogged over. She buried her face in her hands. Tears that had built for days now burst forth. A sob tore through her heart. Her throat tightened. She screamed, shaking in Tovie's arms.

Chapter 2: Poison

Arrae

Svala, Northern Seas

2276 3rd Standard Cycle

Vren, Age 18

Vren coughed, curled up against a warm stone wall. Pale blue blood spurted between his teeth and into his shaking hands. It ran through his fingers and tarnished the water around him. He'd stopped shaking, stopped screaming, but his vision was still blurred, his left eye swollen shut. Kero hadn't broken anything. At least, he didn't think she had, though his whole body was heavy. His bleeding arms pulsed in pain, and multiple teeth hung loose in his mouth.

"Get up." Kero's voice stabbed into his aching head. Her inner eyes narrowed to red slits, the two outer pairs glowing with another. She crossed her arms, floating above him in the dimly lit water.

He hurried to right himself. "K-kero, I-"

"Quiet."

He hung his head. Blood dripped down his chin.

“Fix this up."she said. "Then come to my room.”

"But, Kero, it is-"

"Come to my room."she repeated. “I need to speak with you. And be quiet."

He nodded. Kero turned away, silence in her wake. He looked at the first aid kit tied to the nearest wall, shook his head and turned away. The cuts would heal well enough in time, though they would scar. He tied two old rags around his arms. That would do to stem the bleeding. He didn't bother to fix his face, but just gathered up the shattered pieces. Black polished coral scratched against itself as he tied it into the garbage bin.

He had broken the plate. He knew that, but couldn't remember it happening. His body had been useless before, but now it actively fought him, his limbs stiffening and eyes fogging over at least once a day. Kero had forgiven him, the night he had realized he was unworthy of her. She had accepted that he was used, a damaged thing, but even she could not forgive this new sickness. He swallowed back another scream and finished filtering away the blood. The hallway stretched endless and dark before him. Most of the rooms were empty, as he had borne no children for her, not even sons, and Kero did not yet have other men to occupy her.

He stopped outside her room. It had only been five days since the stillbirth, his third in two years with her. She knew he needed at least fourteen cycles to heal, and over twenty until they could try again.

"Verra."he whispered. Her dead, half formed body filled his mind. It was a strong name. They could not try again. He didn't understand.

"Are you going to stay there and stare at the walls all night?"

Kero looked down at him. She was so tall, imposing and stately in dark grey Tava silk woven with silver, a necklace of pointed teeth strung around her neck. Her deep red eyes bored into him. The tendrils above her mouth raised, and the four segments of her jaw pressed against each other, a smile like a knife, her teeth sharp with want.

He nodded. Eyes glued to the floor, he followed to her quarters.

She undressed, then undressed him. Thick tendrils of flesh unfurled from her back and waist, and her eyes shone bright in the darkness. A soft rhythmic chirping emanated from her throat, punctuated with low clicks - all a wordless desire, one that must be met. He did not respond. Tentacles pulled him close and her tail coiled around him, holding him in place. It hurt, and did not seem to end, even when she pushed him away. He floated there, eyes closed, the water cold on his skin and coarse stone warm behind his back.

“That was… good.”she said. “You'll do well at Sanae’s.”

“What… what do you-”

She sighed. “Your results aren't in yet, and your skin hasn't changed, but you're clearly a Feraath-krii.”she said. “I found a woman who can take you. She runs a… bar you can work at.”

His hearts sank, a chasm in his stomach, but he said nothing.

“You're pretty, if nothing else.”she continued. “At least, you are for now. You'll do alright.”

“Thank you.”he whispered.

She righted herself and lifted him into her arms, carrying him across the room.

Dark purple tendrils clung to the nearest wall, ever moving, ever searching. She pushed him into them and turned away.

He laid there, silent, wrapped in the mass. White heat burrowed into his veins, cutting through the numbness. The water turned blue with blood, a concentrated, vile azure from his arms and down his legs. It blossomed out into pale cyan. More coated his mouth again. He stared at the backs of his hands, eyes tracing the raised scars. It had taken weeks for them to heal correctly. He wondered how long the bleeding would last if he cut them off now, if it would ever stop.

Kero had hit him before. Of course she had. Few women were blessed with mates who never had to be kept in line, and he was worse than most men. She had needed to discipline him many times, but she had never made him bleed before.

He righted himself slowly, his limbs heavy, and tied a black sheet of dyed Tava silk around his chest. Sinewy kelp grew from the floor to the ceiling. Kero hung suspended in it, asleep and alone, much of the tower empty. Vren swallowed down a lump in his throat, watching her. She was broad chested, with bulging shoulders and strong arms. All was covered in black, shining scales, and two lines of flexible spines ran down the top and back of her head, connected by translucent blue skin. The long, thick tail that made up her lower half draped out of the undulating leaves, tendrils folded against her body once more. She was still a handsome woman. He knew that, knew that she was ideal in looks, in temperament and intelligence, that it was those like her who built and upheld erathi society, that he was lucky she had ever even looked at him. Yet somehow he felt nothing now.

He sighed. Love was not the goal of any union. Still, he tried to remember if she had ever been happy with him, if she had ever thought him a worthwhile gift.

He couldn't. It didn't matter. He turned away. The door slid closed behind him. He drifted back to the kitchen and stopped, staring at the largest wall. Bulbs of fungi congregated over the whole of it, black and thick and shining in the center, red and thin and dry at the edges. It pulsed, both with its own life and the worms and crabs crawling in it, forever alive and aglow. Grey, dessicated pieces floated before it, held by fine netting. Aren, Aren-tel and Aren-vae. He reached out with open hands. It still knew him even now, still grew out and spread itself over his skin. It held him, then receded, brightly lit anew. Blood coated his arms. He turned away and looked up.

Jars hung from the ceiling in cradles of black rope, radiating soft blue light throughout the room. He pulled one down, running his fingers over the carved, translucent grey surface. Sharp lines intersected without end along its surface. Tava fish swam inside, round and black. One nibbled at the solid layer of blue fungus inside. New spawn burrowed in and out of it. Lacy fins rubbed against the glass. He closed his eyes and let the sound of it flow through him, a low and quiet music that did not end even in death, for it created new life from its own remains. He opened the jar. The fish slowly flowed out. He let the jar go, and one by one opened the rest. Fish bobbed lazily in the water, gnawing at the clock behind him. Little time would pass before it was eaten away, and less before it was replaced.

Slowly, mechanically, he opened three larger jars full of rocks and coral, pouring them into each other. He shook the contents until they fused into a viscous black liquid. It smelled rotten, a sign he had done it right. He took a knife off the wall, dipped it in and closed the jar, letting it simply glide away.

“Vren?”

Her voice shot through him. He froze. The knife hovered over his wrist.

“Why are…? You should be in bed.”she said. “And - oh, by The Mother what is that smell?”

He did not hear her approach, did not know she was behind him until her rippling shadow overtook his own.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was even and toneless.

He opened his mouth but could not speak, his throat tight. She grasped his arm.

“No!”he yelled, pulled and twisted in her grip.

The knife turned.

Kero's eyes widened. She froze. The knife bobbed away from her open hand.

He would never be sure how long he stayed there, frozen and mute in her grip. One cycle. A hundred. Time distorted. Arms straining, he pulled himself from her and leaned against the wall, staring.

“Kero?”

She did not respond.

“K-kero?”

Again she did not speak or move.

“I… I am sorry.”he tried again. “I… I will put the Tava back and… and sleep. I will… will go to Sanae's. I am sorry.”

Silence stretched. The walls warped inward. She did not move or speak. Blood trailed dark blue from her arm, a haze in the water.

He stood. The knife was clean. The poison was gone. He stared at the jar. There was more left. Kero was dead. Kero was dead because of him. He held the knife.

Kero was dead. Kero was dead and he was alone. He was not meant to be alone. His head was full of static. He was alone.

He screamed. It echoed off the walls, ripping apart the water. The knife's jagged bone edge screeched against the wall, claws inside his skull. She still did not move.

He drifted, first to his room and then to hers. Grey skirt, grey tunic and grey footwraps. A grey shawl, grey veil and grey mask. It was the garb of a proper man, with only his hands visible. Not even his eyes showed through. A slight haze hung over all, the world through gossamer webs.

He slid a panel aside on the wall. Kero stored most of her money digitally, but she also visited whores. That much was clear now. He keyed in the combination, as much as he could recall from having watched her leave before.

The safe swung open, a cavern of deep red. The coins were heavy, pure carved Sevaath stone rather than coated disks. He swept them into a bag until he could carry no more. Surely that would be enough to pay a ship to smuggle him to the nearest station. Her door slid shut. The sound seemed far away.

In the kitchen she still floated there. He stared, silent, at her stiff body, searching his heart. Where there should have been sorrow, regret or even a base fear, he only found a horrible, unfathomable lightness.

She was gone. She was gone and he was alone. He opened the door and drifted into the world beyond.

Chapter 3: Freed

Sentinel Station

Sector 9, Ward 31, Inorganic Processing Block 6, Threadhall 17

2276, 3rd Standard Age

Tohru, Age 13

A ten legged insect crawled over the fabric wall, dropping from a black thread onto the floor. Its feet clicked on metal. Then silent on the man sleeping at Tohru’s feet. Silent from his hand to his face and down his naked chest. The thing settled. Hairy legs across the man’s skin. It looked up at him. Fangs rubbed its front feet.

“Bite him.”Tohru whispered. The man twitched. He froze. Jaw clenched and throat closed. Tapped his thigh. Counted down from ten. The man lay still. Silent. His stomach untwisted. A deep breath. Safe still. He held out his hand, let the bug settle and snapped off its head. The legs and torso crunched between his teeth. Sweet, but scratched down his throat. Hunger, still. Always. Claws. But sweet. He wiped his forehead. Sweat. Always.

He checked his pockets. A half tube of nutrel. Worse than the bug. A hand length of plastic rope. Nothing else to take.

He checked his shoes. Plastic soles cracked. Again, and fully in half this time, and they'd run out of tape and string. The damn things hurt anyway.

He tried to reach out, pull back the curtain. Close. Feet locked in place. Close. Eyes held to the floor. Close. He was still asleep.

No one would know. Or no one would care, not if he did it right. The neighbors might not hear, even through the fabric walls, and it took at least a day for a corpse to start to smell, longer for the smell to matter. If he did it wrong, the neighbors would sigh and shake their heads and wonder if they should have done something.

But he’s so….

Think you’d be better, with a dad like that?

Bet he’ll kill someone ‘fore he’s grown.

Bet he’ll get killed, if he don’t die crawlin’ through a chute.

His foot over the man’s head. A long shadow. Outline to color in red.

He can't fit in the chutes no more. Grew too quick.

You think that's why-

Don't matter. Still fucked up.

But he’s like a damn animal.

But maybe, if we-

Nah. I got enough to deal with.

He shook his head. Workday soon. No extra time. His father would die like everyone else here. Shaky, half blind heap, coughing sludge out of its throat onto a dirty floor. He pulled back the curtain.

Seventeen levels up. No railings. Scattered, half broken ladders to get down. They were all told to walk carefully. Or be recycled. He ran, barely staying on the thin, rusted walkway. The ladder cut his hands and bare feet. He paused. Five levels down. Low noise through the fabric. Flakes of strangers’ blood melted into his open skin. Metal scraped and clanged. His left.

“Shut up, or-”

“Oh, shit.”

He glanced over. Two girls tumbled out of a waste chute. Smaller than him, but clearly older. Cuts down their arms and on their faces.

“You… you better fuck off.” One of them stood in front of the other. A jagged scrap of metal shook in her hand, pointed at him. “I mean it.”

He shrugged and continued down the ladder. He could report the girls for trespassing or shirking duty - or more if he was right about why they wanted to hide. A cura or an extra nutrel. Hardly worth it now.

Down. Three more levels. He leapt off, wiped the blood from his hands and searched for a gap in the curtains. A low buzz behind him. He ducked into the nearest room.

“Hey!”a woman yelled, pulling a sheet over her body. He put a finger to his lips, frantically pointing outside.

“Oh, sneakin’ around. Well I'll-”

He pushed her to the ground, a hand over her mouth. She grabbed his arm but couldn't move him. He waited, holding her still. The buzzing faded.

Gone. He stood and ran back to the walkway. Two rooms ahead he finally saw it. Almost hidden. A spiral and five drops of blood. He squeezed between two fabric walls. A gap in the metal. Woven thread poking through. He grabbed it and pulled back, squeezed into the hole revealed. Cold. Dark. Empty. Nothing like the trash chutes.

A spiral and five drops of blood. Follow to be free. It might be a lie. Jagged metal tied to his waist. It didn't matter. Follow to be free. He crawled. Inched forward on his stomach.

The path widened. Branched. A diamond cut in four. All rust. Almost erased. It could be a lie. Jagged metal in his arm. Blood on his finger. Not erased. He followed. The path widened.

Into a pit.

He stopped. The air burned his eyes. A square and a drop of blood. Along a cable onto a sleek black metal sphere far below. He grabbed on and slid down.

It didn't cut. He balanced on the sphere, heels dug in. It tumbled. Air in his hair. Like the overseer's fans but colder, faster. He shivered. Eyes closed, focused on the air. Sweet. He smiled. The sphere fell, then clattered to the ground. He looked up. Slick walls. Nowhere to hold on. He blinked. The dark was clearer, just enough to see the square, now with two lines from the top. He replaced it and pushed.

Light.

Light beyond fire. Light beyond death in the overseer's room. He stared through his fingers. Metal. Smooth and white and pale red beyond in the largest room he'd ever seen. Avaki men in paint and boys in tunics and women and girls in dresses and veils. Silent but endless, a crowd weaving around wide pillars. Flashing blue and purple and blinding white with rows of symbols in red and black.

He scanned the crowd. There should have been humans. Outside, humans could live on their own.

They kept to the walls. Trailed behind avaki men with their heads bowed. A step behind families hand in hand with their children. Like mothers but servants.

He shrank behind the old metal. There was no way back.

“Ah!”

The first voice above a whisper. A human. Low but soft.

The furthest wall. A girl. Small and swallowed by a black dress. Avaki men with covered eyes and black paint and guns and sticks and Vital hands. A drone. Blue sphere floating and committing it all to memory.

The girl clung to the wall. A covered mouth full of words he didn't understand. Wide, dark eyes in a dark face and dark hair all around it like an explosion.

He ran. The crowd parted like curtains. Glares he ignored. The girl yelled again. A man hit her arm.

“Stop!”

The men turned. Faces and guns on him.

“What, human?” Narrow eyes. More words he didn't understand.

He pointed to the girl and then himself. She shook her head, eyes wider.

A man laughed. A clawed hand around her wrist. A shimmer in another.

“Coming with us.”

Aim fast. His fist balled up. Blood. Down purple lips and over long teeth as hard feet clattered back and a hand released. Words he didn't understand. A meaning he knew. He reached for the girl's hand.

A stick expanded. Came down.

Another shimmer. Cold Vital energy from the girl's hand. The men fell. The drone bashed into a pillar. The girl fell. Another drone, and more men. Her eyes were empty. Blood from her nose.

She was weightless on his shoulder. She tried to push him away but her arms were too weak. Weightless through the crowd again and into the strange dark room.

The girl rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. Blood on the back of her hand. “Thank you.” More words he didn't understand.

“Sorry.”he said. “You okay?”

She blinked, then took something from her pocket. A square of light big as both her hands. Like the overseer, tracking and committing it all to memory. She turned it to him. Strange symbols on the screen. He shook his head. She nodded. Dark fingers danced over the light. More strange symbols. But there was the sign to be free. He pointed to it.

“Understand do you?”she asked slowly, staring at the screen.

He nodded. Her words were out of order. No reason to tell her. His hand stung from the punch and paint.

“Help. Thank you much.”

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

“Good.”he answered. Her eyes were even darker than he'd thought before. “Who are you?”

“Carina.”she answered. “Hall clan. You? Name?”

“Tohru.”

“Clan?”

He blinked, head tilted in a silent question.

“Clan have no?”

He shrugged.

She nodded. “Clan name need.” A finger slipped under her mask. Bloody when it came away. “Sato. Tohru Sato. Sato Tohru. Accept do you?”

He didn't know what a clan name was. He didn't know why it mattered. But it sounded good when she said it.

“I accept.”

She nodded. “Live where you?”

He shrugged. “Nowhere now.”

“Work have you?”

“No.”

She tapped her covered mouth. Her brow creased. “Want? Easy.” She pointed to his bare feet. “Shoes can have. And….” She looked away. “Cover top.”

He blinked, trying to figure out what cover top was supposed to mean. Shirt, maybe.

“What type of work is it?”he asked slowly.

“Clean.”she answered. “Drinks make. Time many. Make you tired. Pay many.”

He bit his lip, thinking it over. He didn't know where to go here. The girl's eyes. Helpless.

“Agree do you?”she asked. “Tallov us take.”

“Tallov?”

She nodded. “Man. Avaki. Need human work. He let me no question. Today. Take my things. Not care I new. Not care I young. He let you.”

He ran a hand through his hair. He'd wanted to run. As far away as possible. It was hard to push through a crowd. The work didn't sound that hard. Easier than sorting waste. The girl's eyes. Helpless. Deep like the fall that got him here. Helpless.

He nodded.

Fingers danced in the light again. The girl took his hand. Warm. So warm. His skin didn't sting as much.

“He us find.”she said. “Overseers stay away. Wait?”

He nodded. She was strange. But her hand was warm and her eyes were pretty. They waited, silent and alone in the dark.

Chapter 4: Morning at the Callisto

Sentinel Station

Sector 17, Ward 29, Club Callisto

2283, 3rd Standard Cycle

Carina, Age 22

Carina held a length of braided rope taut between her hands, wondering if it was strong enough to choke the man beside her. She pushed away the dream with a deep sigh, dropped the rope into the box at the foot of her bed and rubbed her wrists. There were some friction burns, bits of skin rubbed off and cuts scattered over her arms and chest. They were all shallow, nothing cura couldn't fix. Harken of Tallov was a creep, a thief and a conman, but he wasn't particularly brutal in bed. She pulled the blanket up to her neck.

“My payment?”she asked.

The old avaki man sat up, facing away from her. He yawned, stretched and stood.

She sighed. He always did this. She always hated it. He knew that.

“Your pants are over there.” She pointed to the corner.

Harken dressed, humming under his breath. He stood over her and grinned, all four of his arms crossed. Graying, steel blue fur bristled above his mouth and around one long, chipped tooth.

“Ah, you're always such a treat, Rigel.”

She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists around the blanket, sweat drenched fabric between her fingers. “My payment, Master Tallov?”

Harken laughed, gravelly and low. “I guess you've earned it. Little extra from me, too, like always.” He reached into his pocket and tossed three cred sticks onto the bed. “You did well this week.”

“Thank you.”she said drily. “Master Tallov.”

He nodded. “Get some sleep, Rigel. You got a long night ahead.”

“I know.”she said, as if she'd had anything but long nights for the past seven years.

He left at last. She released the blanket and inspected the sticks, flat blue things with patterns like ancient circuits engraved in them. It was as much as he'd said it would be, with a bit more tacked on since he'd made her fuck him to get it this time. It was less than she had earned. She stowed two of them away, yawned, and opened a door on the wall. A black jumpsuit lay bunched up beside a pile of tubes, three bottles of pills and a flat piece of black plastic. She opened a grey tube and smeared cura over her cuts. It was cold and smelled like vinegar, but it at least dried quickly, smooth and the exact same dark brown as her skin. There were four left. She could probably stretch them through the coming ten day week.

Her stomach twisted. She rolled her eyes, opened one of the clear tubes of nutrel and squeezed the paste into her mouth. The rations on Veniae-di had often been bland, but this was utterly tasteless, and coated her throat in a greasy film when she swallowed. Still, four tubes a day contained enough calories and almost enough nutrients to keep her healthy and active. She could usually afford three. She chewed a gritty vitamin pill, followed by an immune booster and hormone tablet, washing them down with the smallest sip of water. A panel above the sink flashed, indicating she'd used ten percent of what Harken gave each worker for the day. She sighed and turned on the light wand, running it slowly over her skin. It prickled and left a red tinge, but it was better than letting the old man's touch linger. She shivered and pressed her fingers to the side of her left eye. It came out easily. A green light indicated that six days of battery life remained. She rotated it under the light wand, pushed it back in and reached for the jumpsuit. A small grey jar and a pale yellow doll slid out from under it.

She caught them and let them rest in her palm for just a moment, before she focused and lifted them with a small Vital field. Once pain crept into her head she dropped them both, slid them back into the compartment and pulled on her jumpsuit. It was looser than before, and she wondered if the fabric had always been so thin, or when the left elbow had torn. She couldn't afford mending paste but could probably get some thread soon. She shrugged, tied on a mask and pulled her hair into a knitted hat.

Tucked behind the headboard, her netpad flashed. It rested in her hand, a thick grey square before she unfolded it once and pressed a holo button. A pixelated image of a yellow flower filled the screen and quickly faded, deleted. The encrypted channel was active again, the scramblers functional once more and a delivery time to come. She smiled softly and left the room, yawning.

The back hall was quiet as always, the walls and carpet thick to keep any sound from leaking out of the rooms branching off of it. She touched the cold door to the side entrance, thankful when it slid aside, as she wouldn't have to leave through the main rooms of the Callisto. Acid and smoke met her nose, cura and cigarettes.

“Oh, morning, Tohru.” She waved at the tall human man leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor. He hadn't bothered with shoes or a shirt, leaving his broad chest exposed. There was an old, human style waste chute in the yellowed white wall behind him. Refuse spilled from it. A speaker above his head crackled out a news report, something about a recent disappearance and an expedition to the ruins of Earth. He took another drag from the cigarette, snuffed it out on the back of his hand and pocketed it.

She sighed and shook her head. “At least put a little cura on that.”she said in the warm, nameless language of the threadhall he'd come from, able to properly speak it now, not needing a guide of scattered words. "Please."

“Later.”he said, his voice low and scratchy. He pushed away the tube she held out. “Don't want to waste yours.”

“Oh, stop it.” She grabbed his hand and rubbed paste on the burn. It filled the bloody pit and dried as if the skin had never been touched.

Tohru rolled his bloodshot eyes. “Gee, thanks, mom.”

“Oh, please, I'm only two years older than you. At least go for sister instead. Wait, that's… not very funny after last night. To think those guys went home to their stuffy families after that.”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Don't remind me.” He shook his head, shoving away the tube of nutrel she held out.

She sighed, one hand over her face. She didn't know where exactly he got cigarettes, or how he used them without Harken knowing or caring, but she could guess just how much of his pay they ate up. “I think you’re getting thinner.”she lightly chided. “You've got a look to keep up.”

“Right.”he said, the word drawn out. “Cygnus Vex, the mountain every insecure sleaze wants to conquer.” He pushed his dark hair back from his face.

"Don't forget the sad military women."

He sighed. "They're not so bad. Wouldn't mind if there were more of them."

"Not sure we'd be here if there were more of them."she said. "And don't get full of yourself. You're a tree at best. Anyway, take it."

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes again but took the tube. She waited until he'd finished and dropped it into the trash heap behind him.

“Thanks.”she said. “Hey, I'm headed to The Tevell for a bit. Want some coffee?"

He yawned. “Maybe. I've got a morning client, and... my dad said he'd visit today.”

“Oh, I… I hope he does.”she lied. “Still, I'll be there for a while, if you want. Put some shoes on. Floor’s dirty. And, hey….”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

He shrugged.

“And… I'm sorry.”

“Harken's fault.” Tohru looked away. “Really, Cari, I'm fine. Should get ready, though.” He drifted past her, returning to the Callisto's back rooms.

She turned and continued up the dark, warm corridor, past closed bars and clubs and walled off dead shops. There were few people about, and all were quiet, but the lights and noise of the nearest circle loomed in the distance. Closer by, an avaki woman approached, dull eyed in a faded brown dress, wearing no veil. She sped up, keeping her head clear and impenetrable, and just before they collided Carina clutched her netpad and cred stick.

“Varthek!”the woman spat. The word roughly translated to ‘brash weakling’. “Whore!”she added for good measure. The human word fell easily from her mouth.

“Sorry!”Carina yelled back in Aerkaath, the avaki common tongue. She took the last tube of nutrel from her pocket and tossed it toward her. The woman snatched it, glared and stormed away.

Carina sighed and slipped on her translator earpiece. Tovie had been right about her implants settling down, but she still appreciated the noise filter she'd added a few years ago. It had taken weeks to build, and the components had been outrageously marked up, but now as she entered the circle it helped to blunt the speech around her and fully muted the advertisements and warnings.

Still, the walls blazed, as did massive columns placed throughout the dark, open space, neon reds and blues and purples, flashing slogans for products and services she couldn't afford, warnings against loitering and reminders of curfew for each species and sex. Security officers stood around them. A hand in front of her face, she pulled out her artificial eye just long enough to turn it off, then slipped on translucent sunglasses to shield herself from the lights as well. A travel pod whizzed along a track near the ceiling, and a hover car eased to a stop by the nearest landing pad. She pushed through the crowd toward it, staring out the window, though window wasn't really an adequate word.

Sentinel Station had, in the second standard cycle, been a simple fuel depot with a rest stop attached, before trade routes changed and traffic around it increased. First more docking bays had been built, then more depots and stops. Even then, ships had gotten backed up, unable to leave. Slowly, they had connected, first to each other and then to the buildings around them, until they were stuck in place, inextricably tangled, and more came just to dock there.

This square had been a small rest stop, gutted and reformed. She didn't know if the screens had always been there, only that every square had them. The display buzzed and towered over her, a violet morning full of drifting granite clouds. It was a perfect reproduction of the Kiershaan sky, a bastardization of twilight on Veniae-di and the closest many avaki would ever see to a sunrise on their own homeworld.

She unfolded her netpad, twice now so it was just a little larger than her hand. With the press of a new holo button a picture filled the screen, a black and red drawing of a woman's face, sunken and wrinkled and half hidden behind thin, prematurely grey hair. She smiled with chipped, crooked teeth. It was far from perfect, far from a photograph, but it was not a complete lie, and it was all she had regardless.

She held it up to the false sky. A mechanical whirring sounded behind her. She lowered her head. Soon the security drone flew away, a pale blue ball propelling itself above the milling crowd. Nearby an officer shifted on his feet. As intricate as his painted armor was, it was indistinguishable from that of any other officer, like a carved toy soldier. The rifle in his upper hands was real though, a black metal thing that glowed crimson with plasma. A baton and blade were fastened to his thighs, his lower hands hovering over them. He watched the crowd, a thin but opaque red visor over his eyes.

She didn't know if he noticed her. This wasn't her destination. Shoulders slumped, she continued on.

Chapter 5: Afternoon at the Tevell

Sentinel Station

Sector 17, Ward 14, Kalthan-k’tak Memorial Hospital

2283, 3rd Standard Cycle

Vren, Age 25

A static screech ripped through Vren's head and he gritted his teeth, fingers pressed against his burning eyes. He tore off his translator and powered it down, blinking rapidly as the pain faded and the pale light of the hospital room returned.

“Ketra!”Movrak yelled beside him. The avaki man narrowed his eyes. “Tell the woman her results. You're the specialist here.”

Vren ransacked his mind for words, the few fragments of human language he had managed to take in through the years. The old human woman stared up at them both from her bed, blinking slowly with eyebrows raised.

"You… your test...."he began, his voice thick and stilted with unfamiliar sounds.

"Yes?"the woman asked, then coughed.

He opened his mouth to try again. His throat went dry. A bitter smell surrounded him.

“Leave.”he whispered, the one word he truly knew. Without waiting for Movrak's approval, he rushed from the room and into the hall. His vision blurred. He grasped a railing by the wall just before it faded completely.

He woke on the floor, legs clustered beneath him, fingers still wrapped around the railing and his head heavy. It was horribly bright. A t'ka'et doctor in a blue envirosuit looked down at him, shook her head and continued walking, wheeling a bed in front of her. There was a body on it. He tried to remember who had died, or even why he was here. A series of clicks and harsh screeches sounded from his left. He looked over. Another t'ka’et came toward him, a white sheet folded and tied intricately over the black clinging to her body. She stopped, shifting on her feet, four thin legs radiating from under her torso. More clicks followed.

K'tet. It was just K'tet. Of course it was just her, and he was just at work. He held out the useless translator and coughed.

K'tet tilted her large, triangular head in response, her antennae bent low.

“Are you alright?”she asked, slowly to be sure he understood. Through a translucent panel her massive inner eyes shone red, the outer pairs blue and white, all like cut gems.

He nodded and she held out her lower, thicker pair of arms. Her hands opened, two huge grasping claws parted.

Vren took them and slowly stood, unable to look at her. She raised her upper arms. With the thin spikes they ended in she pulled down one of his gloves, hiding a patch of pale blue skin. He hadn't noticed it falling.

Silent and always a step behind, never fully used to moving outside of water, he followed her to her office and sat, eyes glued to the floor. She pulled up his sleeve.

“I should-”

“Nonsense.”she said. “Be still.” She drew a vial of blood. It was the same repulsive pale blue as ever. She hooked it up to a small white machine behind her, then gently pushed him forward. A shock ran through him when she tapped the plastic sticking out at the base of his neck. Rapid clicks sounded from her rigid mask. Of course that had amused her. Satisfied his implant was working, she slid his translator back on. It rested heavy on his head.

“A quarter charged.” She still spoke in her own tongue, but faster now. A static voice converted her words into Svani. “And I'll check the sample.”

“I… I can do that. You should-”

“I should let you calm down.”she said. “I’m quite aware of your capabilities, as you are of mine. Also, there's a hole in your glove. No fever this time at least.”

He sighed but relented. “Is… is Harris still here? That… that is, the woman-”

“It's Miss Harris.”she said. “Movrak finished talking with her. He explained her condition. She was… distressed.”

He coughed. “I… I am sorry.”

“She had more than you to worry her.” K'tet switched off the machine. “I forwarded the results to you. There have been no significant changes since your previous test, but…. Vren, you still haven't been taking your medications. I don't understand why… why you would hasten things.”

He hung his head. Neither of them spoke. She should have understood by now, that none of it really mattered.

“Thank you.”he eventually said. “And, K'tet….’

“Yes?”

He opened his mouth to ask, yet again, how she dealt with her own short life, how any of her race accepted it. He knew what she would say. Take hope and care as the winds would bring them, and return them most freely of all during storms, so you may go easily into the night. She would say the wind would destroy all things if it blew forever, that she'd had a good twenty years so far and only wished to give her best during the final five. He still didn't understand. He closed his eyes in silent prayer, that Veru would extend Her peace and protection, that Aren would still, in the end, let him come home.

“Little one? Are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry. It is….” He looked away from her. “Was Movrak angry?”

“He is often angry.”

“K'tet, I….”

“He is, yes, but-”

“Should… should I… stop? Should I leave before they dismiss me?”

There was a long, quiet scratch, mandibles rubbing against the hard plates on the side of her face in a sigh. “I… will do all I can to prevent that.”she said. “And you worked for five years to reach this point. Is this not what you wanted?”

He reached under his coat, feeling the string of sharp teeth around his neck. He still didn't remember taking it, all those years ago. It was an answer that only came in nightmares, stolen away on waking. “It… it was.”he said. “It was for the best.”

Her antennae lowered and raised in a nod. “You know you can stay with me again.”she said. “Your old room is still there. Really, I hate to think of anyone living out of those miniscule sleep pods. I know you earn enough for better accommodations.”

“They aren't that small.”he said. “I like them well enough. They are better than flop rooms.”

“And you really ought to buy a new translator.”she continued. “Logically, you should have the money for it, whatever channels you go through. Vren, you can tell me if you're in some sort of trouble or debt.”

“I don't need help.”he said. “And I ordered a replacement from a refurbisher. But, K'tet….”

“What is it?” Her antennae pointed outward in curiosity.

“It is good to have met you.”he said. “I… trust you.”

“Thank you, Vren.” She made another soft scratch. “I need to return to work. Come by for dinner sometime soon, if nothing else.”

“I will, K'tet.”

She hugged him, sharp limbs pressing into his ribs, and he was alone again. He checked the clock. 1020 Standard Time. At least the fit had come near the end of his shift. He paged Movrak on his netpad. There was no response. He sighed and left the room.

As always, the hospital was loud and crowded. The lights seemed brighter now. He kept his head down, staying close to the wall. He felt the occasional eye turn his way, but no one spoke to him. That was to be expected, but he was thankful all the same.

Outside he surveyed the ward twelve circle, glad his episodes weren't triggered by light or noise. Two security officers stood rigid against a colossal pillar, an advertisement blaring behind them. He raised his hood, lowered his head and wound through the crowd to a waist high pole by a narrow door. He hovered one hand over the top and held it there until the pole flashed white. The door slid up to reveal a black sphere, the side open. He coughed and squeezed into it, knees pulled to his chest, and set a course for ward twenty.

The travel pod shut and shot upward, through a dark channel in the ceiling and out. He kept the walls dark, closed his eyes and tried to forget how far above the station floors he was, until at last the pod descended just across from The Tevell Lounge.

The room was lit in low, muted blue. Couches lined the windows before a projected vermillion sky, grey clouds drifting slowly through a projected night. It was quiet as well, and while there was a long line to order, some of the tables were still empty. He knew it was an underserved indulgence to come here, but it was at least inexpensive. He ordered and waited beside a human in dark glasses.

“Dren root tea with vehl!”a voice called from behind the counter. An avaki woman held out a cup.

“My thank-”

He stopped. The cup was hot, and the black substance inside stung his eyes.

“Is this yours?”a high, slightly muffled voice asked. He looked up to see that human, a woman with a fabric mask over her mouth and a gauzy scarf around her neck. “I don't think breakfast tea is supposed to be blue.”the woman continued. "Or gelatinous."

“Breakfast tea?”

She nodded. “That's what you have. They switched our orders by mistake. Here.”

He took his cup in one hand and held out hers. She grasped it but then yanked back her hand. He coughed and his own hand jerked in surprise. Tea splashed down the woman's jumpsuit and blood smeared over her palm.

He backed away. “I… I did not…. Th-that is, I-”

“It's alright.” She took the tea slowly in her other hand. “Just over half left. It'll do.”

“I… I am sorry.”

She shrugged. “It's alright.”she said again. “Enjoy your drink.”

“I should-”he tried, but she was already gone.

“We're waiting.”an avaki man drawled behind him.

“S-sorry.”he said, but turned back to the counter. “May… may I have another of her drink? And what… what food do humans order most?”

“Flatgrain melt with a double worm patty, I think.”the woman answered, her eyes narrow. “I'll warm one up, if you really want….”

“Please. My thanks.”he said, and again he waited, biting into the dren. It did little for his nerves, even with the usual added liquor, and it did nothing for his shame, but it was at least smooth and sweet. He should have been more careful. After what felt like a long wait the food was ready. It looked revolting and smelled worse, like someone had vomited up a poorly prepared fish. Trying to trust the avaki woman's judgment, he searched the room and spotted the human alone at a corner table. The walk there was longer than it had appeared. She looked down at a netpad, scrolling with one long thin finger. Static music crackled from her earpiece, a harsh and chaotic sound. He stood in front of her, unsure.

She paused the music and lowered her glasses, one eyebrow raised. Her large eyes were bloodshot, dull black sunken into a face dark as the deepest sea. She yawned. “Do you need something else?”

“Are you sick?”

She blinked, her eyebrows raised. “What?”

His face burned hot white under his own mask. He hadn't meant to say that. He knew full well that sleep deprivation and low weight were common among humans, especially women. Perhaps he hadn't fully recovered.

“Do you need something else?”she asked again.

“To… to….” He put the alien food down before her. “To apologize for - Ah!” He ripped out the translator. It died on its own and sat heavy in his palm. His shoulders slumped.

“Are’envetlan.”she said. Early greetings. “If you wished to apologize, there is really no need.”

His head jerked up and he stared, wide eyed, at the human woman.

“The cut was small.”she continued. While there was an odd, unmistakably human accent to them that lengthened every syllable, the Svani words flowed naturally from her mouth, with the tone of a woman talking to a stranger who was her equal. Even the short, low clicks some words required were intelligible.

“It is already fixed.”she continued. “No harm was done, and I know none was meant.”

“That… that is true, however….” He lowered his eyes. “M-may I sit?”

She shrugged. “You… may. And there was really no need to buy me anything.”

He sat across from her. “It… it was an apology, and a replacement for what you lost because of my ineptitude.”he said, speaking as if she weren't a human, with all the defence due. “You were hurt because of-”

“I'm alright .” She sighed and held her hand out across the table. The blood had been wiped away, and while the scent of cura lingered on her, the skin had been fully mended, the wound gone.

“Regardless, I apologize.”

She shrugged again. “Accidents happen.”she said, now in the tone of one among friends. He fought the urge to leave. Maybe she didn't understand. Maybe she didn't care. “Could I take a look at that, though?”

He was silent, unsure of how to respond.

She leaned over the table and snatched the translator from his hand, turning it over. “This is so… old .”she said. “How is it functioning at all? Wait there. Finish your... drink.”

He obeyed, stifling another cough in the crook of his arm. He wished they wouldn't linger so long after a fit. She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a pile of silver sticks, snapped the thick metal band into three pieces, then pushed each of them apart down the middle.

“These are…. Right, right, I've read about this type. You need to tell me where you bought it.”

“It was a gift.”he said, still speaking as one did to their betters. “My apologies, but I do not know who originally created it.”

“That's unfortunate.”

“My-”

“It's alright.” she said. “There's so much corrosion. You can't forget to clean this model, especially on the sides. No, no. Let me.” Metal scraped against metal. Black flakes fell beside her netpad. She ignored them. “Alright, that's somewhat better. And…. These bits are practically falling off. Frayed wires, too. Wires. What small scale tech has wires now?” She held one piece still. With the silver stick she prodded it, lifting and lowering bits of circuitry with surgical precision. “Even mine isn't as much of a mess. Anyway, here.” She swept the black flakes into her lap and rubbed her eyes. Her cheeks rose under her mask. “I fixed the battery contacts as well as I could. It has a little power now, and it should hold a charge for longer.”

“M-my thanks to you.”

“Is it working?”she asked in her own tongue. The words came through more clearly than usual, the underlying static quieter.

“Y-yes.”he said. “My… my thanks to you, truly. How… how is best to repay-”

“Repay?” Her eyebrows raised. “It was fun, fixing that absolute relic of yours. Wait, sorry, I probably shouldn't call it that. Besides, you already got me another tea. And this expensive sandwich, too. I think that's more than enough.”

“You are certain?”

She nodded. “Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine. And my friend's finally here anyway.”

He followed her gaze to the front, where a large human man stood waiting. The woman waved, though the man did not notice.

“You probably have things to do.”she said to him.

He nodded and stood. He meant to leave but stopped, his mouth half open.

“Are… you leaving?”

“May… may….” It was such a simple question. She probably wouldn't be angry, even if she said no, but still the words wouldn't come together.

“Are you alright?”

“May I see you again?”he asked. Once more his face paled. “M-my apologies. I… I did not mean…. That… that is, you are-”

“Oh.” She laughed and her cheeks rose again, an odd look in her eyes. “Certainly. You can visit me at work tonight.”

“Where-”

“The Club Callisto. It's in ward twenty-nine. Ask for Nova. You can't miss me. They say I'm a good performer, and I'm even better offstage.” Her tone was disconcerting, though he couldn't say why.

“You… perform? What-”

She laughed again, curt and dry. “Don't look like that.”she said. “It's technically illegal here. You know the rules in avaki space. But no one cares if it's just humans.” She rolled her eyes, a uniquely human expression.

“I… I am sorry.”

She shrugged. “By the way, you are…?”

“Ketra Senan.”he said. “W-wait, is Senan Ketra more accurate?”

“Either is fine.”she said. “Anyway, he's almost here. You should go, but…” She met his eyes and he shuddered. “...I really hope you come see me tonight.”

“R-right. I… I will.”he said. Clutching his now warm dren, he left the strange alien woman alone.

#maggot original #original writing #scifi #science fiction #sci fi writing

2 notes · View notes