She had no idea what they were looking for, exactly. Put a lot of faith in the hunch that she’d know it when she saw it. They opened hatches on crew quarters (thankfully empty), on storage compartments, on lifts. Finally, Talis started to recognize a pattern to the labels that flashed on the plastic panels beside each doorway, and they were able to skip berths and messes.
They encountered two doors with distinct markings. The first turned out to be a medical bay. Tisker shot her a look as they entered, loaded with the same thought she’d had, that it almost would have been worth dragging Scrimshaw along if they’d known they’d find the alien medical facilities. Tisker motioned toward the wall just inside the door, and Talis saw what he did: a portable case mounted at eye level. She pulled it free of the bracket that mounted it to the bulkhead and checked its contents. Despite the differences in their technology and their anatomy, she recognized the trappings of a field medkit. Handed it to Tisker, who slung its adjustable strap over his shoulder.
The second uniquely marked door was located three corridors in and two levels down. It opened on a dark room, no bigger than Wind Sabre’s modest galley. The bulkheads were lined with a bank of control panels which glowed dimly orange. There were five large alien crates arranged within the room, tall and narrow enough that it was easy to imagine Yu’Nyun hiding within, arching head and all. The crates stood like pale glossy monoliths. In front of each was a pedestal, with a clear acrylic tube mounted in the center and a black and orange-lit control panel.
The door slid closed behind them and soft lights came on as they stepped inside. It wasn’t the engine room, but it might have saved them the trouble.
On the left-most pedestal, Lindent Vein’s ring had been placed over the tube as if displayed on a jeweler’s counter. The control panel of that pedestal was lit in blue and pulsed gently. A corresponding blue light blinked in time on the crate opposite.
“Can’t be good, can it?” Tisker said, his voice still in a whisper. He bent down to eye-level with the ring. “Never wished I’d been born Vein before, but it could be handy now.”
“As long as you’re wishing, wish Scrimshaw was with us.” She plucked the ring off the end of the little tube on its pedestal. “Because your captain probably just did something really reckless.”
Tisker opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a small soft tone. The blue light on the crate went dark. The lid opened, swinging toward them with a gentle puff of air.
“Sand and fire!” Tisker swore.
“See, what did I say? Properly reckless.” Talis took a step back toward the door.
A Yu’Nyun form stepped forward from the crate. Its body was translucent, like condensation on a cold glass. Within, pearlescent pink and silver swirled, moving as the figure did. Not organs. Just… filling.
It was also naked.
Tisker brought up his knife, and the figure stopped. Blinked at them with pearlescent white eyes, disturbingly like a Vein’s moonstone eyes. Except these were very clearly not blind. It looked from the knife up the connecting arm to Tisker, then turned to Talis.
“The ring is yours?” the goo-filled alien asked her. It used Cutter Tongue, not even the Common Trade that the translator pads used.
Talis swallowed against the thud of her racing pulse, which seemed to be collapsing her windpipe. “Yes.”
“Please place the ring on your finger.”
Talis turned to Tisker, who returned her confused look and shrugged. “Asked politely enough.”
The ring was large, so she slid it on over her index finger, but still had to squeeze her fingers and bend the knuckle to keep it in place. The metal was warm, as though it had been left out in the heat of the desert.
The thing moved toward her, and she fought the instinct to take another step back. With each step, its gelatinous form shifted. The sweep of the head seemed to melt down its neck. Its body grew more stout, lost height as its feet shifted out of the tridactyl tiptoe position. The arch of its foot lengthened, bones pressed out of shape.
The translucence began to thicken, and its light faded as the skin became an opaque, rich brown. Talis was reminded of oak. Of nutmeg.
By the time Talis looked back up from the feet, its entire body had transformed into the shape of a Cutter woman.
Only it wasn’t quite right for Cutter. She had strong cheekbones, like a Bone woman. But her nose was flatter and wider, and she had an underbite with the hint of large lower canines, almost like a Breaker. The warm brown skin was too far from Cutter golden, yet too pale for Bone. And the intense blue eyes were like nothing Talis had ever seen.
Small braids above the smooth forehead wove flat against her skin, keeping the hair out of her eyes. At the crown, the hair was loosed into a wild cascade of thick matted curls that reached to her hips. Some segments tangled like Talis’s own prayerlocks, some in neat braids.
Pale blue dots of light marched in neat lines across her arms, stomach, and thighs. If Talis hadn’t just watched her take form—and if the marks weren’t glowing blue—she’d have said they looked like the stick-and-poke tattoos she’d seen bored mercs give each other on long expeditions. They crossed over the woman’s frame, enhancing her contours. Sinuous. Muscle-bound. Her body was compact, but in the way a coil
