Page 6
Story: Whispers of the Void
I search my mind for any crumb of knowledge about them. Their planet orbits a red dwarf in the outer band of the galaxy. They’re known for being extremely violent with brutal customs dating back millennia.
Gathering all my courage I open my eyes, blinking a few times until he comes into focus. My gaze immediately locks on his dark red eyes. I’ve met many different people while living on Oculus Nine but rarely have any of them been as intimidating as the male looking down on me. He towers over me, his body broad with muscle that is clear even beneath the fabric of his uniform. His skin is a pale gray with darker stripes of gray wrapping around his neck and the back of his hands.
Because the Zeahiri evolved from the sea.
Their coloring must be a remnant from those days. In fact, two of his fingers look as though they may be partially webbed. I try to sit up, but my arms are restrained at my biceps. My brows slam together as I look from the bands holding me down up to the medic’s face.
“Apologies. I was instructed by the commander to keep you restrained.”
“Why?” It’s not as though I could get anywhere.
He doesn’t answer me, just tilts his head slightly and steps away from the bedside just as a bigger, taller male strides in. He’s the most striking male I’ve ever seen. Similar coloring to the medic, except his hair is longer on top, and instead of the deep crimson eyes, his are verdant green. I can’t help but wonder if they glow in the dark. A jagged scar runs across his neck, the only imperfection to be found on his imposing form.
I shrink back into the bed; my base instincts recognizing the predator that approaches me. His gaze runs the length of me, as if taking stock of my physical condition. I feel the brush of his eyes as they rove from the tips of my toes up the sheet draped over me all the way to my forehead. His lips flatten into a straight line.
“Sister Neev. I’m Commander Raiz Asterean.” The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine. “We need your help translating a text.”
I blink in surprise. “I could have done that on Oculus Nine.”
“No. It’s not a text that can be given to the Order.”
Fair enough. “You could have requested my assistance from the high priestess. I could have met you on Calindrea.”
“No.”
“Am I a prisoner?”
“No.”
“I’m free to leave then?” I raise a brow, doing my best to bluff self-assertiveness that I most definitely do not feel.
“No.”
“That’s quite contradictory. Why am I restrained?”
“For your safety.”
“I pose no threat to myself.” I don’t pose a threat to anyone on this ship.
He doesn’t wait for the medical officer, just reaches down and presses a button on a console beside the bed. The cuffs immediately release my arms. The medic walks around to the other side of the bed and places a light hand on my shoulder, keeping me from pulling myself into a sitting position.
“Let me help.” He presses a button, and the back of the bed rises until I’m in a comfortable seated position.
“Thank you.” I incline my head.
“I told Sister Andira that we would return you safely after the text is translated.”
“And she approved it?”
He inclines his head.
I don’t believe him. There’s no way they’d just let someone abduct me from my quarters and then approve leave. At least I don’t think they would. But it’s not as though I understand every decision she makes.
“How did you convince her?” I ask.
“Told her you’re the only one who can do the task while vowing to keep you safe.”
I run my fingers over the tender spot on my forehead, feeling the raised skin of a healing cut. “You’re doing an awful job so far.”
Gathering all my courage I open my eyes, blinking a few times until he comes into focus. My gaze immediately locks on his dark red eyes. I’ve met many different people while living on Oculus Nine but rarely have any of them been as intimidating as the male looking down on me. He towers over me, his body broad with muscle that is clear even beneath the fabric of his uniform. His skin is a pale gray with darker stripes of gray wrapping around his neck and the back of his hands.
Because the Zeahiri evolved from the sea.
Their coloring must be a remnant from those days. In fact, two of his fingers look as though they may be partially webbed. I try to sit up, but my arms are restrained at my biceps. My brows slam together as I look from the bands holding me down up to the medic’s face.
“Apologies. I was instructed by the commander to keep you restrained.”
“Why?” It’s not as though I could get anywhere.
He doesn’t answer me, just tilts his head slightly and steps away from the bedside just as a bigger, taller male strides in. He’s the most striking male I’ve ever seen. Similar coloring to the medic, except his hair is longer on top, and instead of the deep crimson eyes, his are verdant green. I can’t help but wonder if they glow in the dark. A jagged scar runs across his neck, the only imperfection to be found on his imposing form.
I shrink back into the bed; my base instincts recognizing the predator that approaches me. His gaze runs the length of me, as if taking stock of my physical condition. I feel the brush of his eyes as they rove from the tips of my toes up the sheet draped over me all the way to my forehead. His lips flatten into a straight line.
“Sister Neev. I’m Commander Raiz Asterean.” The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine. “We need your help translating a text.”
I blink in surprise. “I could have done that on Oculus Nine.”
“No. It’s not a text that can be given to the Order.”
Fair enough. “You could have requested my assistance from the high priestess. I could have met you on Calindrea.”
“No.”
“Am I a prisoner?”
“No.”
“I’m free to leave then?” I raise a brow, doing my best to bluff self-assertiveness that I most definitely do not feel.
“No.”
“That’s quite contradictory. Why am I restrained?”
“For your safety.”
“I pose no threat to myself.” I don’t pose a threat to anyone on this ship.
He doesn’t wait for the medical officer, just reaches down and presses a button on a console beside the bed. The cuffs immediately release my arms. The medic walks around to the other side of the bed and places a light hand on my shoulder, keeping me from pulling myself into a sitting position.
“Let me help.” He presses a button, and the back of the bed rises until I’m in a comfortable seated position.
“Thank you.” I incline my head.
“I told Sister Andira that we would return you safely after the text is translated.”
“And she approved it?”
He inclines his head.
I don’t believe him. There’s no way they’d just let someone abduct me from my quarters and then approve leave. At least I don’t think they would. But it’s not as though I understand every decision she makes.
“How did you convince her?” I ask.
“Told her you’re the only one who can do the task while vowing to keep you safe.”
I run my fingers over the tender spot on my forehead, feeling the raised skin of a healing cut. “You’re doing an awful job so far.”
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