I'm falling

The wind whips my hair, pulls at my clothes. Vision's blurs, eyes streaming, can't think, no time to think, going to hit. This speed will end me. Gone, dust to dust. Spinning now, end over end, endless green melts into the sky. 

We play on pure chance tonight, folks. A quick death, or more fear, drag it out, maybe my heart will explode from it, put me out of my misery. There is no breath to scream, air ripped out of my lungs. I'm float with no breath, drowning while flying. I feel peaceful, my limbs relax, it's over no matter what happens now. I can let it go, no pain. No fear. Release...

Why keep fighting? Nothing to go home to. No home. Alone.

Wait. No fools, no martyrs, and no surrender, not ever. Cling to life by my fingernails, kick death in the teeth, and give the Reaper the finger. Promised someone I'd stay alive, remember? Vowed to bring him back, blood on stone. Not done, not by a long shot, have work to do. Bring him home, even if all that's left of him is me.

Daphne opened her eyes. The raw sunlight scraped at her retinas. She tried to lift an arm to cover her face. That's when the pain hit, every muscle, every nerve, every inch of skin yanked tight, a whole body knot of agony. Her bones were bruised. Her mouth stretched open wide on a soundless scream, spine arched as pain made her muscles spasm. No moisture in her throat to make noise. It hurt so bad, she clawed the air, the ground. She wanted to pull off her own skin.

A hand shoved under her head. It tilted her neck to pour a bitter liquid down her throat. She choked it down, coughed, and rolled to her side. A tingling numbness rolled up from her stomach, slowly replaced the pain. Daphne lay panting, curled up, while pins and needles swirled under her skin. It took her a long time to realize someone ran their fingers through her hair, the gentle tugging on her scalp lulled her, let her mind drift. She closed her eyes, unable to focus, the harsh sunlight now a warm caress on her lids.

She stayed numb, drifted, until a dull ache started worked its way through her. She shivered. Warmth pressed against her, an arm wrapped around her. Daphne whimpered and turned into the warmth, the cogs in her brain creaked into action.

Pain sucked, but it meant she survived the ship ripping apart, somehow. She couldn't tell how much damage her body took or how long she'd been out but she'd heal, agony or not the survival factor was worth it. The gift of her genetics; that which does not kill us, leaves us scarred.

Hard to kill, the Harris family trait, her mother's people, and now the Glouschester family secret. Were the nanites still working or was she exposed for all to see? How powerful was her mother's regenerative gene? Mom once told her how Grandpa Harris survived a mauling by a Tibear, up and about by the next day. She wondered how fast her body could shake off a plummet and crash from space. Amazing she survived impact, should be impossible, yet here she was, cradled in a mystery person's arms. Whoever they were, they didn't want her dead, they took care of her, helped her through the worst bouts of pain. Was it Thrack? Had he and Agne survived the crash? No, her mystery caretaker didn't have enough limbs to be the Barlok. Had one of the natives found her? On a planet Thrack was terrified of, the thought should have scared her, but she didn't feel in danger. She felt safe as her body healed.

How long did Miles's regenerative gene keep him alive while the Nisseri harvested him a piece at a time? As much as she tried to avoid the thought, it crept up on her so soon after her own brush with death. She doubted Miles met a swift merciful end. There was a reason they were the only red heads in her borough of Jamestown. The Nisseri would take full advantage of a gift like his. Miles likely lived for weeks, losing himself in bits.

A sob broke from her chest. Months she'd tracked the Nisseri who took him. Months she chased a faint erratic trail, because she was desperate to avoid this moment, when the reality of her brother's last moments caught up with her. Tears ran down her face. She ran every lead to the ground, followed every whisper. She walked the markets and trade posts of each world, stared into the mix matched faces of the Nisseri she came across,  as she searched for a feature she'd recognize. Weapon in hand, ready to make them bleed for her, she would offer them a slow end until they knew exactly who among their thousands of nameless victims they died for.

It was her fantasy of vengeance, to search all those broken faces for a piece of her brother, blood of her blood. She never found one, to her fortune, because if she had her rage would be eclipsed by the consuming grief she felt right now. She'd stumble into the trap of her great denial and fall at their feet.

Instead she came to pieces in a stranger's arms, caught in a stranglehold of grief, guilt, and anger. Sobs wracked her bruised body. The arm tightened its hold. Her stranger pressed their face to her hair, murmured words in a language she never heard before. The voice was deep, masculine. The words that tumbled into her ear were unknown but the tone was soft. Comfort from an alien stranger broke the dam she'd used to keep her grief in check. Daphne pressed hard against a chest clad in velvety leather. She kept her eyes shut tight, she refused to ruin the balance of grief and comfort with something as trite as fear.

It did not matter she was on an alien world, in the arms of a stranger, future unknown. The emotions of this moment were pure. The barriers of language and species shed, unimportant, because her stranger felt the flood of her grief, her pain, and empathized.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed into her stranger's warm chest. She breathed hard through her tears. Her fingers clutched his arms, muscles tense beneath her grasp. "I didn't save him. I couldn't. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. I should have tried harder. I hid. I was so scared, so I hid and they took him and it should have been me. It should have been me, not Miles. He was the good one. It should have been me."

She babbled, her words dissolved at the end into wet gasps. She began to hyperventilate. A hand tucked under her hair, pressing her tighter against him. She listened to the deep draw of his breaths, until they centered her. The rising fount of grief broke, her tears slowed as her breaths fell into his rhythm.

"Thank you," she whispered. It didn't matter if her stranger knew the words or not. She poured gratitude into her voice. She drew back into herself, let the rational Daphne rise back to the surface. The moment passed. She'd have to open her eyes soon, discover what and who held her, assess her situation, continue, survive, and go on. Part of her, a larger part than she would have guessed, wanted to prolong the moment, spend forever in arms that made her feel safer than she had in a long time.

Daphne let out a slow exhale and leaned back. She looked. Pale gold eyes stared down at her, shimmered with iridescent hues when the light hit them. The face was unsettling, but beautiful. Those stunning eyes gazed down the length of a short flat muzzle, the nose split at the end. His skin was textured like the great predatory cats of New Tokyo's preservation exhibits. His jawline was long, squared off, slightly protruded but his mouth was almost human in appearance, lips full, and a darker shade than his bronze colored skin. The metallic hues continued through the shaggy mane of dark gold that brushed his shoulders. Pearl colored horns curved up over the sides of his head, like ram horns, unlike the Pathosian's upward flaring horns.

She swallowed, and let her eyes travel down. Her stranger remained mute as she studied him. She followed the bronze skin, and realized he was shirtless, the velvety leather she'd shamelessly sobbed against was his bare chest, coated in fine short fur. The muscle definition was human-like, straight down his torso. His lower body was clothed in loose fitting cloth, but the bend of his legs was different, the joints built like an animal, a powerful one. His feet were unshod, elongated. They looked more like paws but the hands at her back felt human. She could make out the shape of long fingers tangled in her hair. A seamless melding of man and beast, she thought, as she dragged her gaze back up to his golden stare.

"Hello," she said, her voice hoarse. His hand left the back of her head, and lifted up a strand of her now very red hair. He let it fall through fingers tipped in short claws. That answered her nanite question, she was completely exposed and her new friend was fascinated by her wretched hair. Typical, she almost laughed, the feature she loathed about herself caught alien boy's interest.

"Fine, two can play this game," she said. She reached up until her fingers brushed one of his horns, smooth and warm to the touch. His pupils contracted and dilated, they expanded from vertical slits till they filled up his golden irises. She blinked, and dropped her hand, startled. She knew that look. She blushed. Confused by her blush, she looked away.

They were in a sheltered copse of undergrowth, surrounded by the massive trees she miraculously missed during her free fall. No sign of the strip of shredded plant life she must have cleared or the metal panel she rode in on. Her beast person must have carried her here.

His touch brought her focus back to him as his finger traced her jaw and carefully lifted her lip to peer at her teeth. She raised a brow as he held up her hand to see her nails.

"You're inspecting me?" She frowned. Why would her teeth and nails concern him? He looked distressed as he glanced at the trees. "I guess our little moment bothered you too." She pulled her hand out of his grip, winced at her aches and stepped out of the shelter of his arms. She checked for her guns. The one on her hip was gone, flung away in the fall, but she still had one strapped to her thigh and an ankle holster. She had to locate the remains of the Red Mutineer, see what could be scavenged, and if Thrack and Agne survived. She looked to her mystery friend, uncertain how to proceed. They didn't speak the same language, maybe she could hand signal her way through a short conversation.

"Listen, thank you, for your help, but I need to find my friends." She gestured to the sky, miming her ship's crash. "We got separated." She took a step away. She felt awkward, as she tugged at the hem of her ripped vest. "Okay then. Bye." She turned, secretly grateful when he stepped in front of her and glared down at her.

"You can come with me, if you want," she said. She laid a hand on her chest. "I'm Daphne."

His frown deepened as he leaned in and gave her a sniff. Daphne stiffened, and quickly looked away, furious at the heat in her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She shook herself. Time to turn on the patented charm.

"Sniffing me? Not even bought me a drink yet. That's not playing by courting rules." She grinned, and ducked around him with an appraising glance over her shoulder. "Coming?"

He stared, wide eyed, for a second before he charged after her, dogged her steps. She caught sight of a tail she missed, trailing from the base of his spine. It ended in a long blade-like appendage. Huh, that's different. His movements were all predator, in silent measured strides, as he constantly watched their surroundings. His gaze kept coming back to her.

"Can you take me to where you found me?" she asked, half turned toward him, her voice muted in the dense forest. His hand clapped over her mouth, and yanked her back against him as a clump of undergrowth in front of them rustled. A low growl emanated from within. Daphne attempted to wrestle free from his grip. She went for the gun at her thigh when her equilibrium shifted. Her ears popped at the change in the air so that she staggered against her protector. The noise affected him as well, sent a tremor though his muscles.

It stepped from the green, a construct of spines, teeth, and bony ridges. It stood upright on scythe-like claws, skin like clay crackled in a kiln, veined black. It growled at them again, the row of spikes cresting its head vibrated. Her vision wavered, she saw double. She realized the trick the second it launched at them, those dagger claws raised to rip into her.

Her new friend shoved her out of the way, but failed to dodge the claws fast enough. A ribbon of red slashed over his arm as his tail whipped over his head, and glanced off the bone plating that covered the nightmare creature's face.

It hesitated, sensed the fight in him before it turned to the easier prey, the soft one without fangs or claws. A fatal mistake. The noise jolted both aliens before the creature reared back with a roar. Blood gushed from one of its vulnerable eye sockets. Another explosive crack rent the air, a hole appeared, right though a small chink in its bone armor, where its jaw hinged. It collapsed, twitching through its death throes. Daphne rolled up from her knees, gun ready, as she listened for more surprises. She bet the noise sent the more primal nasties running. Certain they were momentarily safe, she holstered her gun, and ripped a strip from her tattered shirt as she approached her new friend. He stared at her, slack jawed.

"Thank you for pushing me out of the way, though it took me longer to get a shot off," she said. She tied the makeshift bandage over his wound and gave his shoulder a pat. She bent down to inspect the dead creature, and whistled appreciatively. If this was the kind of monster running around out here, she really needed to find her guns.

"I'm going to need more bullets at least, which I can make if I find the materials," she thought out loud, and glanced up. She caught a smirk on his lips, gold eyes hooded as they watched her. He jumped when she spoke. "I see you ogling me. Can you take me to the wreck or not?"

He nodded, and jerked his head in the direction opposite of where she set off. She stayed in a crouch, as she peered up at him. "What's your name?" she said, testing a theory. His smirk evolved into a rather handsome grin, for an alien. It wasn't enough for her to miss him press a hand to his chest.

"Emon," he said, one word but it was all she needed. She saw his tells. She stood,  and offered a smile to mask the turn of her thoughts.

"Lead on, Emon," she said, aware her mystery protector understood every word she spoke.