“Expired medication can be dangerous,” he said. “Some of them can break down into component parts that your human digestive tract can't handle.”
She closed her eyes and made that snort sound again. “Trust me, I’ve eaten plenty of things I probably shouldn’t have, and I’m still alive. Ugarian beetle stew comes to mind.”
“Beetle stew? That sounds disgusting!"
“It’s not my favorite,” she said, then made a sound that took him a moment to realize was her version of a rumble of amusement.
Laughing, that’s what it was called. It was musical and pleasant to the earhole. He wanted to hear it again.
“...anyway, that was the last time I ate it,” she said. His mind had uncharacteristically wandered off, and he’d missed some of what the human had said.
“I don’t know your name,” he said, excited to get to know this little female better. At least he was pretty sure she was female, but he should probably check. “I need to know your name and your gender.”
She blinked slowly, then the corners of her mouth tugged up again. “I’m a she/her and call me Han. My mom named me Hannah, but I like Han. It’s like, tough sounding, you know?”
“Han is a good name,” he agreed, although he wasn’t sure how a name could soundtough.
“Are you going to make some beetle stew?” Her words were slow and a little slurred. “I don’t really want beetle stew, but soup sounds good. Is it cold in here? I think it might be a little cold.”
“The medication is affecting you,” he said, standing up to open a storage cupboard over the bed and pulling out two blankets. Kneeling back down, he tucked the blankets around Han. Aftershe was better, he’d help her clean off the blood. “Perhaps you should sleep and when you wake, I’ll make you all the soup you want.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled, her eyes falling closed. “You’re a nice guy, Zeph.”
He jerked back. Did she know his name? No, that wasn’t possible. She’d said Zeph, not Zephrum. That word must mean something else to Han and simply sounded like part of his name.
“What does Zeph mean?” he asked. He didn’t expect an answer, but he got one.
“Zeph is you, a nice guy,” she said. He could barely make out the last few words.
“It’s a word for a kind male,” he whispered as her breathing became even and her body relaxed completely. He finished tucking the blanket in around her, sounding a quiet, soothing rumble.
He took a moment to take in her features. He thought she might have lighter skin than the average human, but the shock of pain and blood loss had made her even paler. She had dots scattered across the bridge of her nose and face. It took him a little while to remember that they were called freckles.
Her mane was a light red color, but he couldn’t tell how long it was because it was secured in several braids that were coiled around her head. Even though her eyes were closed, he could picture the light green color he’d noticed earlier.
Her face and body were on the round side, a good sign for her health. He’d read all about the negative effects of malnourishment on humans. It was good to know that wouldn’t be an issue with Han.
The way she’d handled being attacked and then injured was both impressive and sad. She’d been calm and stoic, but he hated that she’d probably had practice dealing with bad situations and intense pain.
Altogether, she had to be the most striking and amazing human ever.
“Zeph is a kind male,” he whispered, watching her sleep peacefully. “You consider me a kind male. I’m your Zeph and won’t let you down, I swear!”
Although he tried to be quiet, he couldn’t be silent while cleaning the ship. There was only one room to this small, diplomatic carrier meant to house two people at most.
In its prime, the ship might’ve been comfortable but never luxurious. Now that it was about the same age as Zeph, everything about the interior was run down and often broken. He’d found out the reconsitutor only worked half the time, and the bed had a broken strut he’d been forced to weld in place. Now it couldn’t fold back into the wall, but at least it wouldn’t collapse and send him rolling to the floor.
When he’d first bought the ship, it had been a means to an end. All he cared about was that it was mechanically sound. Now that Han was onboard, he felt embarrassed at the state of the place.
Between his high rank and share of war wealth he’d claimed during the Orlok War, he’d been as wealthy as some of the most elite families. But he wasn’t a wealthy individual any longer.
Now that he was a fugitive, all those riches would’ve been claimed by the government. He had just enough to fulfill his last goal, but that would take up almost all of his remaining resources. As much as he wanted to keep the little female, it would probably be better if he offered to take her home.
But did she have a home? Did she have a community of humans to return to? Or was she like him, unsettled and searching for a new life?
He could be her everything if she wanted him.
What would it be like to have a human to clutch and cling to him? What would it feel like to be touched with those small, soft hands or get to hear her musical laughter regularly?
