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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 62. Chapter 62

The resistance against the isolationist policy was fierce. I would never be that convincing but Garjah spoke after my nausea-inducing revelation, and reassured everyone that would be a good thing. I’d had to explain what my mother did, which lead to me sharing stories about other first contacts I knew with alien races.

Not all had gone smoothly. I hadn’t paid that much attention, beyond the impact to the planets and the ways entry into the Galactic could impact the flora and fauna. Most cultures were advanced and spacegoing prior to their exposure and entry into the wider culture of worlds and alien societies, so it wasn’t a complete shock.

I couldn’t think of a single time a species was as advanced as Garjah’s who had shunned Galactic inclusion, though.

“How will we get off planet?” I asked Garjah. We were settled in a bed in the home of one of the resistance. We didn’t know their name, but we’d been passed along through two different cells showing they weren’t ignorant of the risk they took. They’d set up protocols to prevent the complete discovery of their entire group if any were taken.

Leaving Chaintrik behind was disappointing; as much as I disliked bugs, I felt a strange kinship with him and his bond with the althea. Bouncer was across our feet on the narrow bed, rumbling and twitching in his sleep. “Will it be safe to take Bouncer?”

“Would you leave him behind?”

I hesitated. “No.” I didn’t think I could.

“He will stay with us. We will continue to pass along with groups until we are smuggled onto a ship. That will take us back to the planet you call Ardra. From there, we will return to the small transport that you crashed on the planet, and we will use that to call your people.”

“Vague, but probably good just in case things go wrong we have room to be flexible.” I sighed and snuggled into Garjah’s chest when he pulled me closer. Not that I could move far in the bed that was almost a cot. “When will be we get to a ship?”

“A day or two. I’m unsure.”

Closing my eyes, I listed to the thump of Garjah’s heart and Bouncer’s snores. “Okay.”

 

Sneaking onto the ship had felt like the most nerve-wracking moment of the whole journey. I thought we’d take the cover of night, but Garjah said the lights made it just as bright and the security was even tighter. The best time was during last meal when half the security staff were on break and the other half were cranky and lacked observational skills because they were distracted by hunger and being tired by their long day.

He should know; he’d arranged the schedules as the head of the planet’s security. My only fear was that the Kardoval would realize that he might try this and change their pattern.

Maybe they weren’t so good at being ‘the all’ since they had so many people to do individual roles because as much as my heart raced, we’d made it on the ship without being seen and there was no challenge to our take off.

The bunk was even smaller than the beds we’d been sleeping on while in hiding. Bouncer slept on the floor, and I slept partially on Garjah. Fully on him when the relief sent my libido rising, and I’d stripped us both for a celebration of our escape into space.

Ennui soon set in. Nothing to do, I took to walking the corridors with Bouncer at my heel. He stayed close to me at almost every moment, and his head was on the swivel constantly, ears moving, eyes tracking.

The contrast of the fear, then boredom, and now terror exhausted me. We were rocketing toward Ardra in a tiny teardrop shaped vessel. I’d assumed we’d touch down with the entire ship. Bouncer was sedated and strapped down. I was in an adapted suit, which shocked me how quickly the Four Arms had changed human technology.

“If they can alter my suit to deal with my bone density and extra limbs, why can’t we take the ship to the planet?” Sensors were blazing yellow already. It was hot out there in the atmosphere as we streaked through.

“Your ship has left many sensors in place. We wish to reveal ourselves via the plan. This is foolproof, but altering their sensor data is not.”

I opened my mouth then closed it. “Foolproof? Absolutely no risk we won’t die?” I would swear I could hear the wind screaming by as we hurtled toward the ground.

Garjah reached over and gripped the hand that was wrapped around the straps holding my shoulders to the chair. “I promise.”

 

“See, I told you I could find it.” My sensors will still working, and I led Garjah to the skimmer. It was camouflaged, and I didn’t see any disturbances that looked like the humans had found it. Why hadn’t they followed the beacon? Sonez should have been all over it.

“Help me out here.” I asked him to pull down the camouflage over the door. The living vines shivered and the leaves curled when Garjah pulled it down.

Crawling inside the skimmer, I flipped the switches for the beacon and turned it on. The light flashed red, then showed me two yellow lights within the scan range. “Two?” I figured after all this time there’d only be one human ship left on the planet if they hadn’t given up and left a babysitter behind with a life signs scanner.

Considering some of my DNA had changed, it was a good thing there wasn’t just a DNA scanner. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to have that much data.

“They will come soon?” Garjah leaned in the door, his wide shoulders filling it.

“Yeah.” I sank back in the chair. “Way quicker than I thought. We better be ready for this.”

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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