Stars winked at her from outside the port.
Aaroncaphford.
She closed her eyes and let the blackness envelop her.
Chapter Fifteen
When a man is out of sight, it is not too long before he is out of mind.
The head scanner tech on the Beyant battle cruiser B’autachia normally spent his tedious shifts daydreaming about getting home. After this mission was over, he and his p’agdtein could stay home for the rest of their careers, take assignments on Beyantaeux, and enjoy their lives together. At least this last mission wasn’t one they’d have to worry about their asses getting shot off over.
By contrast, it was long and boring.
Then a wrinkle in his monotonous routine stirred him. An unexplained blip on the edge of their scanner’s reach, a regular signal, like a beacon of some sort.
“Sir?” He waved the commander over.
Commander Raoulx looked over his shoulder and frowned. “It just appeared?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Distress signal?”
“Unknown, sir.”
The commander studied the signal for a moment before he finally gave an order to the navigator. “Change course. Close distance. Slowly. Scan. And send someone to inform Ambassador Raoulx.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within a few hours, as they closed the distance, the regular repetition of the pattern made it obvious it was a distress beacon, although one they weren’t familiar with. After a little research, Commander Raoulx discovered it was an ISTC Terran vessel’s distress beacon.
The commander scowled. They had no ISTC treaty—yet—and technically couldn’t get involved in matters with treaty races. But if it was a distress beacon, he could not in good conscience turn his back regardless of any repercussions.
The ambassador concurred as he studied the scanner signal when he arrived on the bridge. “It is a tiny thing,” the ambassador said. “Smaller than our own escape ships. It must be an escape ship. It certainly can’t be much of a threat for a fully armed Beyantaeux battle cruiser.” He nodded, as if to reassure himself. “Intercept immediately.”
The commander bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”
They drew within tractor beam distance of the small vessel. Upon making visual contact and magnifying the view, it definitely looked like an escape vessel. They could clearly see DSMC markings visible on the side.
“Scanners,” the commander ordered again. “Fine gain, magnification 800.”
“One life-form, sir.”
“Alive?”
“I…I think so. Barely.”
The commander looked at the scanner readings. “It certainly appears to be Terran. I believe it is a female.” The commander had had limited contact with Terrans, but they were similar enough in biology one of their kind could survive in Beyant environment.
Feeding her might be an issue.
He’d deal with that once he got her on board. “Tractor beam, lowest strength setting, slowest return. Bring it into Landing Bay One. Carefully,” he warned. “Gently. With utmost care, as if it is your own child on board. We will do nothing to trigger the ire of the ISTC or the Terrans this close to treaty signing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the small craft, almost certainly an escape vessel from the looks of it, was safely stowed in their landing bay, the commander and a group of security forces converged on it. He looked through the small window and saw what did in fact appear to be a Terran female inside. Unconscious, or asleep.
He studied the markings on the craft’s exterior. He could speak several Terran languages to a certain extent, learned in preparation for their negotiations, but reading them was a different matter. They used complicated combinations of letters that sometimes made no sense to him. He tried a few things, then discovered a recessed panel that opened under his touch. A green button inside seemed their only option.
He pressed it.
The port slid open.
No reaction from the Terran.
He signaled for a ladder and drew his sidearm before he crawled inside.
The interior of the tiny vessel felt unbelievably cold. And the air tasted flat and stale, as if the scrubbers weren’t working.
The Terran lay cocooned in blankets and strapped to a bench. He suspected that meant either the escape vessel had no artificial gravity capability, or she’d turned it off to conserve energy.
She looked fragile, vulnerable, emaciated. Her flesh had a slightly bluish tinge that couldn’t possibly be normal or healthy based on other Terrans he’d seen. When he touched her cheek, she felt cold, much colder than he knew Terrans should normally exist. But the telltale throbbing of her pulse was visible in her neck.
He holstered his sidearm and began unfastening the straps securing her and her blanket cocoon to the bunk. “Bring a stretcher,” he called to his men. “Immediately! And alert Pachya to prepare sick bay.”
At the sound of his voice, her eyes fluttered open. Sunken, grey eyes full of fear.
He barely heard and didn’t understand the soft word she spoke before she fell unconscious again. “Aaroncaphford.”
There was nothing in the escape vessel that could help them identify her. He also didn’t want to be caught with DSMC equipment on board his ship, even if it was an emergency. Having an undocumented Terran on board would be bad enough. At least they’d video recorded the events in minute detail, so if there were any questions later they could prove they didn’t forcibly abduct her and that they had no hand in her condition upon arrival.
He just prayed she survived.
After removing everything they could from the lifepod and finding the computer’s databanks empty, they resealed the pod and jettisoned it.
Their medical officer, Pachya, was useless with Terran physiology. Other than warming her body’s core temperature to a more acceptable level, his hands were tied.
“You are more familiar with Terrans than I am, Commander,” he said. “I scanned her and took a blood sample. I’ll go try to figure out her food needs.”
With Pachya declaring there was nothing more he could do for her directly at that time in sick bay, they moved her to a small guest cabin near the commander’s own cabin, where they could increase the room’s temperature for her comfort.
Raoulx pulled up a chair and sat by the bunk as he studied her sleeping profile. They’d tucked several warm packs under the blankets with her, as well as added several more blankets. As a result, her core temperature had already risen a few degrees.
He settled in to wait. As the ship’s commander, he needed answers. He wouldn’t leave until she awoke…or died.
Hours after they found her, she opened her eyes again, starting in fear as she saw him.
The woman stared at the figure in the cabin. Did she know him? She felt fear thrum through her body, but wasn’t sure why.
He made no movement toward her. His dark skin, a reddish, almost orangey hue, looked alien to her, although she didn’t know why. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, and his large, black eyes peered at her.
“Hello.”
She frowned, not sure if she was expected to respond or not, although she recognized it as a greeting.
“Comment allez-vous?” His voice sounded deep, rich, and full of cautious warmth. The words, however, made no sense to her.
She stared at him, not understanding what he said.