Upon waking up, the first thing she notices is the heavy smell of disinfectant. Following is the muffled sound of people—dozens of them—chatting and moving beyond the room she assumes she's in.
Her eyelids feel as heavy as lead, and it takes quite some effort to crack them open.
“How are you feeling, miss?”
The sterile smell and plain curtains framing the bed is a dead giveaway that she's in a clinic. Or at least some sort of medical establishment, if the cheap but comfortable bed sheets and monitor clipped to one of her fingers is anything to go by.
It takes her a moment to register the stranger, a male Terran, sitting at her bedside, and several more to gather the willpower to answer his question.
“Like shit.”
“Understandable. You've been out for seven Terran hours, give or take.”
She rises to a sitting position, body protesting every movement. Her limbs feel like a ton of bricks, and her throat is parched with the bitter aftertaste of vomit.
The stranger holds out a glass of water and several pills. “The doc told me to give you this when you wake up. One's for the pain, and the other's for your stomach.”
The water looks and smells legit, and the pills appear to be an over-the-counter painkiller and activated charcoal, respectively. She’d been prescribed the same things a few times before, after experiencing food poisoning.
“You’re wondering how you ended up here, right?”
She nods, popping the pills into her mouth and washing them down with water.
"I was on my way to the markets when you bumped into me in the White Square. You looked very sick and passed out, so I brought you to St-Philip's clinic."
Then it all comes back to her.
Today was her last day working as a contractor at the Royal Argo, a major commercial cruiser that transports people and the occasional goods across the galaxy.
She accumulated enough funds to last a year before sending them her notice of resignation a month ago. After five years of working for that company, the long hours, monotony of the job, and latest gruesome trip to Terra had finally convinced her to look somewhere else.
She had felt dizzy after taking the few belongings she had from the ship and dismissed it as a lack of sleep. It wasn't until she reached the city center in search of a hotel that the rising sensation of nausea finally made her realize that she was sick and needed to find a place to crash. Quickly.
She remembers bumping into someone, feeling the bile rise to her throat and emptying her stomach before she had time to warn them. Her last memory was hearing a "Holy shit!" from the poor soul who received the contents of her last meal.
He must have changed clothes and taken a shower since, or else she would have smelled it by now.
“Thanks, kind stranger, and sorry for ruining your clothes,” she says.
“No worries. I had a spare on my ship, so I changed after dropping you off here.”
He fills her in: The city they are currently in, Neo Rial, is not the biggest interstellar hub on Earth, but its biodiverse population meant finding a doctor who treats offworlders was easy enough.
He couldn’t find any way to identify her, but the doctor who examined her said she could fill her information when she feels better. Nice of them.
“I’m Danya, by the way,” the Terran says, flashing her a friendly smile.
“Thanks for helping me, Danya. I’m Ju-(click)-ni-(hiss)-per-(click).”
Danya frowns. “Sorry, I’m not sure I heard the last part right. The only part I got was ‘Ju-ni-per’.”
Oh, right. Terrans have a terrible sense of hearing.
“No worries," she assures. "You can call me Juniper.”
# # #
Juniper spends the night at the clinic, too tired to go anywhere else. The doc tells her that the hot and unfamiliar Terran environment, coupled with lack of sleep, had weakened her immune system.
To everyone's relief, she feels much better the next morning. Danya comes back to check on her and gives her an address to a budget-friendly hotel she can stay in. She accepts it in a heartbeat, her previous reservations about Danya having softened substantially since their meeting.
Chatting with him is entertaining. As it turns out, they have a lot of things in common: a fascination for space, an appreciation for independence, and even an interest in botany.
“Anyway, I’ll be going now. I couldn’t visit those markets yesterday, so I gotta get to it before it's too late,” Danya informs a newly discharged Juniper as he adjusts his worn-out flight gloves.
“Wait, let me buy you a drink first!”
“Nah, you don’t have to. Also, they don’t really sell drinks here!” The Terran gestures to the white walls of the clinic and chuckles.
“You know what I mean!" Juniper groans, barely holding herself back from rolling her eyes. "I insist—it’s the least I can do after barfing all over you.”
“Alright, we can chat a little. Why not?"
Danya rises from his seat by Juniper's bed. "Are you gonna be okay on your feet?”
“I’m feeling better than I look.”
“Roger that,” he confirms, giving her the tiniest of salutes.
# # #
That evening, Danya guides the both of them to a bar called “The Stupid Dog”. Juniper wonders what that “Dog” person did to be called stupid, but decides against asking about it.
Danya sits at the stool and waves to the bartender, who smiles widely and comes to greet them. Seems like Danya is a regular here.
“Sorry I didn’t come by The Ameretat last night," the bartender apologizes, not meeting Danya's eyes. "Was asked to do overtime. My buddy Keghnar called in sick, that bastard.”
“Don’t worry about it! Are you free tonight?”
Juniper drops into the seat next to Danya as the bartender grimaces.
“Not really, helping my ma close up and do inventory later. You know how it is…" He grabs a clean glass. "Enough about me! What can I get you two?"
“The usual," Danya pipes before turning towards Juniper. "And the lady would like…?”
“Sparkling water, please.”
The bartender nods and saunters over to the other side of the counter to prepare their drinks.
Juniper stares at his back with narrowed eyes. “He’s lying, you know.”
“About what?” Danya questions, brows raised.
“Doing overtime last night.”
“Nah. Why would he?”
“Believe you me. The only thing he was doing was the Izakarian at that table over there,” Juniper insists and jabs a thumb over her shoulder to point at a figure a few paces over.
Danya turns around, eyeing the alien Juniper mentioned with suspicion. He’s big, bulky and sports an imposing pair of horns.
“How can you tell?”
“He reeks of him," Juniper tuts. "And the evidence of their sexcapade is still in the folds of his clothes.”
“Eww! Is smelling stuff your superpower or something?”
“Just one of them. I could work as a private investigator if I ever get bored of repairing ships.”
Danya sighs, glancing at the man still working on their drinks. “Damn, I really thought we had a connection.”
“Sorry to rain on your parade, friend. Better rip that bandaid off now before you get disappointed.”
Juniper's known Danya for little more than 24 Terran hours, but talking to him somehow feels like catching up with an old friend. What a strange feeling, she thinks.
Perhaps the fact that he’s attracted to men and she’s attracted to women helped. That is one more thing in common between the both of them.
Danya's attention returns to Juniper. “So you’re a ship mechanic?”
“That’s my other superpower. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious what kind of people visit the Terminal. I’m sort of still new to interstellar shipping, you know? Trying to find my place under the sun, and I’m happy how things are going so far.”
“Lemme guess. Ice hauler?”
Ice transport is a lucrative business, she heard, provided your ship is big enough to haul a large quantity of it.
“Nah, I’m just doing light cargo. My ship’s pretty small, but she’s a beautiful little gem.”
“Does that mean you’ll be going to the Astraeus Terminal from here?”
Astraeus Terminal is one of the biggest spaceports in the galaxy and where Juniper hopes to find her next job and friendly enough team to work with.
“Yeah! That’s my next gig actually! How did you know?”
“I know my way around shipping. I've been working the routes for a few years and got some contacts. Funny though, I quit yesterday right before bumping into you.”
“Congratulations?”
“Thanks." Juniper straightens up in her seat. "Listen, can I hitch a ride with you?”
Danya’s expression turns pensive. “Well, I’ve never accepted passengers before… I won’t be leaving for a few days either, but…”
“Hey, I’ll pay. And I’ll be your extra pair of hands if you need any help.”
“Hmm. I guess that could work." He lightly nudges Juniper with an elbow, a playful smirk on his face. "You’re also welcome to give me some pointers about those shipping contacts, haha!”
“Sure can do.”
“Come by dock number 452, Sector 7. That’s where I’m parked.”
# # #
“Without you, I think The Ameretat and I would have turned into cosmic junk,” Danya says while wiping sweat off his forehead.
Two days before their planned arrival to the Astraeus Terminal, The Ameretat got hit by a gamma ray. That burst of energy, shot by a galaxy billions of years away, was thankfully not strong enough to blow the whole system off. It did generate a power outage however, and cut off the connection between the operating system and the engine, making it slow down and fly off course.
Danya had enough presence of mind to carry some spare materials for emergency spacecraft repairs, but the basic troubleshooting knowledge he possessed probably wouldn’t have helped him to get the ship fixed before he ran out of drinking water and breathable air.
After five stressful hours, The Ameretat is fully operational again, its landing only delayed by half a day.
“Juniper, I think destiny brought us together!”
Juniper wipes her hands on an oil-stained rag she scavenged from one of Danya's toolboxes. “I prefer thinking that I have free will, but go on.”
“Fine. Jokes aside, you saved my life and this ship. I get a panic attack just thinking that I might have had to deal with this crisis on my own. Can you imagine?"
Sadly, she knew exactly what would have happened to this poor soul.
“You would have figured it out… eventually.”
Probably a lie. Sometimes it helps to be encouraging, though, and she didn’t want to undermine Danya’s confidence since he hasn’t been “on the job” that long.
“You’re too kind." Danya sighs. "But even I’m bright enough to realize that I’d be stranded out here. Not the smartest thing to do this on my own… which is why I wanted to ask you if you wanna work together.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Sure. I got gigs lined up, this ship that I took on credit, and I’m excited to see what’s out there. The universe is big, y'know, and I want to explore it and make a couple of bucks while I’m at it.”
Juniper knows that Danya wouldn't give her the short end of the stick, but she needed to be sure. “And where do I come in?”
“Become my business partner. Help me do these transport jobs, and we can split the profits and go where no person has gone before!”
“We’d have to pay the ship’s credit first, though… before we start making any actual dough. That might take a few months, or years.”
Despite her initial worries, the month she spent with him aboard the Ameretat was pleasant enough. She thought she would've gotten sick of him by day five, but Danya always knew when she needed space. She rarely felt bored with him, either playing board games, watching movies, or enjoying funny banter and long conversations about their lives and passions.
Danya is a lovely and kind man, and he smells okay… for a Terran. He’s also an excellent cook and makes delicious omelettes au fromage—very important.
In other words, Juniper has long since concluded that if she ever had to work long term and in an enclosed space with someone, Danya would be the ideal candidate. Besides, if things don’t work out, she can always leave.
“What type of work do you want me to do?”
“Umm… Ship maintenance and in-flight repair, I guess? Make sure we stay afloat, help me secure jobs, load the cargo, and take turns cooking and cleaning?”
Juniper deadpans. “So basically everything.”
They both laugh.
“Except the flying. I can do that!”
“It’s a deal.”
Danya’s face lights up like the sunrise.
“Sweeeet!” He raises his palm in the air, looking at her expectantly. “High five?!”
“This is a Terran thing. Do you want me to touch your hand or something?”
“Yeah! Like this!” He grabs her hand and slaps it against his enthusiastically. "Teamwork!"
“Haha! Yeah. Teamwork!”
“I’m officially going to use the last room in the corridor as my quarters, by the way.”
“Don’t want to live right next to me? It’s way bigger.”
“Nah, got used to my cozy cabin already. Plus I assume you’ll be getting visitors, so I’d rather not.”
“As you wish.”
“We could find a better use for all that space. Make a guest room out if, maybe?”
“For like, paying passengers? I thought about that, but it seems like a drag.”
“Do you want that credit to be gone faster?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Just how far are you willing to go to make it happen?”
“Point taken. Let me think about it, okay?
“Okay, partner.”
------------------
CREDITS
Writing: Irlana & Fable
Editing: Ende
Artwork: Doubleleaf
HeartCoreDev
2022-02-23 23:06:37 +0000 UTCKalamarini
2022-02-23 23:02:19 +0000 UTC