The Song of Sqia'lon Seven, by Alyce Caswell



If glass instead of a thrumming forcefield had filled the Slidden Hangout's front window, the fall onto the concrete road outside would have hurt a lot more than it did.


Winded but not beaten, Captain Rantha Jones didn't waste time wallowing on the ground after her inelegant ejection from the bar. She threw up her legs, rolling back against her shoulder blades, and then carried her momentum forward, springing onto her feet within moments. Her legs wobbled alarmingly at first, but there was no chance she was going to fall back down. None whatsoever.


Her hand dropped onto her holstered gun — a battered fourth-hand item she'd bought off some seedy dealer on some seedy world. Emboldened by the weapon's presence, Rantha taunted, 'Had to throw me through a freaking window because you're too afraid to go one-on-one with me, huh?'


The legless squid-like aliens on the other side of the window bristled. Well, the Lrowas might have been shaking the tentacles hanging from their gaping mouths because they wanted another drink from the bartender. It was hard to tell.


Rantha leered and threw them a one-fingered salute, but they didn't follow her out. Human gestures weren't exactly universal — and nothing less than a grave insult would induce them to leave the humidified air their species loved so much. Out here, the suns burned like lasers on Rantha's skin. It'd do far worse to the Lrowas.


They didn't know her. They didn't have a beef with her. There was no reason leave the bar.


Rantha almost howled in frustration.


She'd spent the last Sol year holding her breath and looking over her shoulder. Interstellar Precious Gems & Metals (IPGM), her former employer, had hired the best bounty hunters the


galaxy had to offer to hunt her down — and all because she'd made the rather dumb decision to help an alien species that was being exploited by the company.


So it turned out that making people pay fair prices for raw materials was a death sentence. Well, according to IPGM anyway. There were no laws in space so the Terran-affiliated company could do all manner of dodgy stuff out here. They wouldn't even cop a fine for hiring murderers — if the aforementioned hiring had occurred on a starship instead of a planet.


Anyway, the tension was driving Rantha nuts.


And she was spoiling for a fight. A fight with anyone.


Rantha opened her mouth, preparing to tell the group of Lrowas that their birthing sac had been contaminated with the failures of previous hatchlings, but she never got the chance to hurl the insult. Because a hand swiftly clapped over her mouth — a hand that wore a ring with a fairly sizeable diamond set into it.


'My friend is very drunk,' Jenna Prules, Rantha's former aide, declared in a stern voice that carried far further than it needed to. 'You know that humans cannot hold their liquor. A tragic circumstance of biology. I will take her to the nearest clinic immediately and have her flushed.'


The Lrowas waved their tentacles, but they were clearly less agitated now. They had even started to emanate a chorus of clucking sounds. Laughter. At Rantha's expense.


Incensed, Rantha began to struggle forward with her fists extended, but Jenna swiftly wrangled her away in a grip that could make a six-armed Spratani whimper — no doubt something Jenna had learned at whatever martial arts academy IPGM had recruited her from. The pair were a full block away before Jenna released Rantha.


'Friend, huh,' Rantha said, smirking. 'Fiancée too much of a mouthful these days?'


Jenna flicked her a look, one that held no trance of amusement. 'It is not a word they would have understood. Mating rituals among the Lrowas consist of brief greetings, a mating session about


two minutes in length, and then very hasty farewells. I rather thought you wanted to keep me around.'


Rantha sighed. 'Yeah, I do need you around. You're the only one who can save this damsel from IPGM's stooges.'


A beat. This time Jenna's lips twitched minutely. Pretty much her version of hysterical laughter. 'I love you too. Now where did your jacket end up? I've managed to score us cheap passage on a ship out to Nranthia, but it's an ice planet. Definitely not shirts-and-shorts weather.'


'May have...lost the jacket in a card game,' Rantha admitted. 'Right before I told the Lrowas that they were cheating. And right before they threw me out the window.'


'Rantha...' Jenna shook her head. 'What am I to do with you?'


'Kiss me, love me,' Rantha teased, giving Jenna her best shit-eating grin. She grimaced a moment later, holding her stomach. 'And actually do take me to that clinic. Those Lrowas had me drinking the hardest liquor this side of Ajs An'hlj. Ouch.'




***




Rantha was doubled over by the time Jenna got her to the clinic. A pair of doctors took Rantha into a private room and began treating her, as well as recording her biometrics. Happily, this was not a planet inside the Terran Territories — no point making it too easy for IPGM to track them down.


But the medical services here were prohibitively expensive. Rantha and Jenna were rapidly running out of money, even after stealing a large diamond that IPGM had mined from the heart of Ajs An'hlj — or Lucy, as it was known by those living in the Terran Territories. They'd been pawning off pieces of it as they travelled, which wasn't always easy. Humans were the only ones who had a thing for diamonds. Most species preferred to covet other materials.


An hour later, Rantha hung over the edge of the bed, moaning at the floor.


'The procedure is over,' Jenna said. 'No point pretending you're still in agony.'


'Yeah, they flushed me, but I got myself a hangover the size of good old Sol right now,' Rantha muttered.


'It serves you right.'


Rantha slowly eased herself up into a sitting position, tempering the urge to scowl at Jenna. 'Why do they insist on making sure all outgoing travellers are sober anyway?'


'The last human who died from alcohol poisoning after leaving this planet was the Terran President's nephew,' Jenna replied, ever the purveyor of facts. She should have been a history teacher instead of the aide to a prickly (but obviously still very lovable) mining ship captain. 'It nearly started a war. I'd rather avoid bringing any human eyes this way.'


Rantha grimaced. Right. That wonderful decision to help the Ajasi which had sent them on the run — but also convinced Jenna to accept Rantha's marriage proposal because it was a good deed or something. One Sol year later, Rantha knew she was way overdue for proving her worth to her companion. She hoped Jenna wouldn't suddenly realise it and kill her. That would clear the slate with IPGM for sure — and net Jenna a giant bounty.


'Are you thirsty?' Jenna asked.


'Meh,' Rantha muttered.


'I'll take that as a yes. You need to hydrate yourself. I will be back with some water shortly.'


Will you come back with a knife too? Rantha wondered as she discarded the wafer-thin gown the clinic had given her. She found and yanked her pants back on. The shirt was next, followed by her shoes. Nah. Jenna can kill me with her bare hands. She hasn't done it yet. So I guess I'm safe. For now.


Muttering to herself, Rantha looked up just in time to catch sight of a blur in the doorway — and then she heard the squeak of something. Possibly a rodent. Or an assassin. Maybe.


No. Definitely an assassin.


Jenna couldn't do it herself so she hired someone to kill me for her! Rantha realised, heart thudding painfully inside her ribcage. Where did I put my gun? She took it! Okay. At least she loves me enough not to watch it happen, right?


She waited. And waited. But annoyingly, nothing happened.


The clinic staff continued to murmur somewhere down the corridor and those distant beeps from the machines watching over the nearby coma patient kept right on beeping. Rantha had passed that patient on the way in, unable to keep her eyes from seeking the poor bastard who was lying there. Why? She had no idea. But she had no intention of ending up like that. She'd go down with her back straight and guns blazing.


Except she didn't have a gun right now. Crap.


Well, this wasn't the first time she'd only had fists and words to defend herself with.


'Show yourself!' Rantha barked. 'You coward! Come kill me — I'm ready!'


That squeak again.


This time a head cleared the doorway — a tiny blue head with tiny blue antennae. Rantha wasn't stupid enough to assume it was a child, because alien species came in all shapes and sizes, but those wide black eyes were brimming with innocence and curiosity. She didn't get a chance to say anything else, because whatever it was bounded across the room and hurled itself at her. Rantha barely had time to catch the alien before it started sobbing against her shirt.


'Uh,' Rantha said, awkwardly folding her arms around the tiny intruder. 'I've got zero maternal instinct, kid. This is super uncool.'


'Zand!' a voice scolded from the doorway. 'You should ask before doing that! Look how uncomfortable the human is!'


Zand remained steadfastly attached.


'I'm sorry,' another small blue alien told Rantha as she entered the room. She performed a short bow. 'I am Kand. Our parents — all three of them — died in accident. We nearly died too. It was really bad. And we can't afford to pay off our treatment so we have to work here.'


'It's awful,' Zand mumbled. 'They make me mop things.'


Rantha's heart gave a very inconvenient tug.


Kand's antennae flicked rapidly in response, clearly not a coincidence. 'You will help us? I didn't feel any sympathy from anyone else. It's why Zand came to you, I think.'


'I don't help people!' Rantha snapped. 'It's not my thing!'


'No?' Kand gave her a very broad grin that exposed hundreds of sharp teeth.


'Absolutely not! Never!'


'She's as soft-hearted as they come,' Jenna said from the doorway, a plastic cup in her hand. She offered it to Rantha, whose arms were still locked around Zand. Smirking, Jenna held the cup to Rantha's lips and tipped it up. Those few drops of water were more precious to Rantha than any bar of gold.


Jenna moved away and smiled at the two aliens. 'Who do we have here? You're Saizons from Sqia'lon Seven, aren't you? That's not too far from here.'


'Sqia'lon Seven?' Rantha repeated, trying not to sound too interested.


Jenna shot her a sharp glance. Rantha fought the urge to stick out her tongue. She couldn't help being as mercenary as she was.


Take me as I am or just leave me! Rantha pleaded silently.


Her fiancée sighed. 'Yes. It was at the centre of a war a handful of Sol years ago, because the Terran Territories wanted access to its natural resources. The planet's rocks are rich in gold deposits, if I remember correctly. I am sure many unscrupulous humans hoped to profit from exploiting the Saizons. But no outsiders have visited Sqia'lon Seven since the war ended.'


'Probably because it's impossible to get past those orbital satellites without the passcode,' Rantha added, her heart thudding again — this time in excitement. 'All those laser canons? Not a very pleasant welcome mat.'


Kand scowled. 'It's not a passcode.'


'So you have it then? That'll make taking you home a lot easier.'


'You'll take us home?' Kand asked, her inhuman eyes now as large as Rantha's fists.


Rantha winked at her. 'Of course. Can't possibly leave two orphans stranded here. The alcohol is putrid. So this passcode — you've definitely got it?'


'Rantha...' Jenna sighed.


Rantha knew another argument between them was imminent, but at least there was no chance that Jenna would snap Rantha's neck in front of children. Well, Rantha hoped not. That would probably traumatise them and they'd had enough trouble in their short lives already.


'Not a passcode!' Zand declared, ripping his face away from Rantha's chest and beaming up at her. 'A song! The Song of Sqia'lon Seven!'


Rantha pried the boy off her and set him at arm's length. 'So we're all set then. Except that lack of transportation — we'll need to buy a starship, because I doubt any passenger ships are headed that way. And we have to buy these kids out of servitude. It's just not right.'


'No, it's not,' Jenna agreed, her brow furrowed as though she doubted Rantha's intentions — well, she had good reason to doubt those intentions. Unfortunately. Rantha grimaced.


Jenna looked away instead of meeting her gaze. 'Leave it to me. I think we have just enough to make this work. Stay here. And try to recoup some dignity, Rantha. You're almost drooling. I'd rather you did that about me, not potential profit. Raw materials can always be replaced. I can't.'


'I know that!' Rantha hurled after her as Jenna departed, her back firmly aimed in Rantha's direction. Rantha's voice dropped to a mutter. 'And you should know how I feel, damn it.'


Kand's antennae bent towards each other, like a disapproving line of eyebrows. 'She can't sense things like we can. She's a human. You should tell her this stuff instead of hiding it.'


'Shut up, my head hurts,' Rantha grumbled.


***


Two minutes later, Rantha was twitchy. But she was never twitchy without a good reason. And the kids were twitchy too — well, at least their antennae were. The clinic was silent now, way too silent. The coma patient's room kept emitting beeps, but the voices from earlier had disappeared completely.


Something was wrong. Had to be. Where the hell was Jenna?


Zand and Kand both squeaked and drew closer to Rantha, who'd just been thinking about lying down on the bed again. Her head spun. Her stomach protested. And her gun was still missing.


'Jenna?' Rantha called.


As if summoned by her very name, Jenna Prules appeared in the doorway, not a single hair out of place. But she didn't so much walk as prowl and her blue eyes, usually full of warmth, had become as cold and hard as ice.


Rantha had seen this look a couple of times. She definitely didn't want to see it now.


It usually meant that someone was dead — or about to be.


'Do I want to know?' Rantha asked.


Jenna jerked her head towards the corridor. 'We need to go. Now.'


'The kids too?'


'Yes,' was all Jenna said before storming towards the exit.


Rantha hurried after her, the two Saizons stuck to her with a strength rivalling centuries-lasting adhesive. 'So...you paid off their debt? Was it a lot?'


Jenna's answer was to shove a gun at her. Rantha's fingers had barely wound around the grip of her weapon when an alarm started shrieking at them.


'Jenna! What the frek?' Rantha exclaimed, now practically running to keep up with her fiancée — and trying not to pant. A trained assassin she was not.


Zand whimpered.


'Stop feeling so much,' Kand berated Rantha. 'It hurts.'


They burst outside into the unforgiving arid air that pervaded the entire planet — it was one of those copy-and-paste desert worlds with more specks of sand than stars in the sky. Nothing to write home about. Not that Rantha had ever had a home. Or anyone to write to.


Jenna immediately started marching down the street, Rantha and the Saizons following in her wake. As they rounded a corner, Jenna said in a low voice, 'The clinic was infiltrated by operatives from the Terran Territories. They were there for Zand and Kand — more accurately, they were there for the Song of Sqia'lon Seven. They'd planned to be patient, to make friends with the children, but they would have tortured it out of them if necessary.'


'And you think you're better of with us, kids?' Rantha snorted. 'You poor bastards.'


Kand gave her an even stare. 'Zand knows who's good and who isn't.'


'I think your antennae might be on the fritz,' Rantha muttered.


A chunk of the wall up ahead exploded outward, tossing debris across the street. Rantha threw herself to the side, covering the children despite them being well outside the blast radius. Someone was after them. And they had a much more powerful gun than Rantha did. Crap.


'Follow me!' Jenna commanded.


This would have been a lot easier to do if the Terran operatives weren't now chasing them down the street, heavily armed and looking downright grim.


'Why did I spend the whole year wanting this kind of action? It's no fun at all!' Rantha bemoaned, snapping off shots as she ran backwards. She nearly tripped when she flicked a look over her shoulder to see where the others were going.


Nah. She couldn't do this on the move. Too risky.


So she stopped dead, aimed, and took out three in one smooth motion. She smirked when the return fire missed her — only by a hair, but it was still something to gloat about. And Rantha knew just what to say to piss these operatives off.


'Rantha!' That was Jenna's voice, knocking some sense into her.


Rantha tore after her fiancée and the two damn kids that had got them into this mess.


By the time they reached the outskirts of town, they weren't being followed. Rantha wasn't sure if that meant she'd got them all. It was possible she had; the Terran Territories wouldn't want to draw attention by having too many operatives in one place, especially outside their range of influence. But she wasn't going to start jumping up and down with glee just yet.


What they needed was a quick getaway.




***




Space was silent. Well, it was supposed to be silent.


The bucket of junk that Jenna had managed to find in the darkest pits of despair (aka the only second-hand starship yard on the planet, apparently) was spaceworthy, sure. It even had bizarrely good engines, just the sort of thing smugglers would have installed. But damn, it was the noisiest thing Rantha had ever stood inside, let alone piloted. It was almost enough to make her wish she was breathing vacuum instead of oxygen.


Bang went something behind her in the cockpit.


'I'm not turning around,' Rantha said, hurling a glare up at the ceiling. 'You can't make me. Let's play a game, shall we? You ignore it. I ignore it. We'll be just fine.'


'Are you talking to the ship?' Zand asked, a constant thorn in her side.


Rantha nodded. 'Yeah. You've gotta make friends with your ships or they'll fail you at the worst possible moment. The more messed up a ship is, the more you've got to do to get it on your side.'


Starlines filled the viewport. It was a sight that Rantha had missed desperately. She'd loved her job with IPGM, even if it wasn't fulfilling in many ways. The pay had been dismal. But she had been able to sit on the bridge for hours, entertaining herself by wondering which stars were worth visiting, and if any were stunning enough that she might take a certain Jenna Prules with her to visit them.


'Pretty,' Zand said, also watching the viewport.


'Yeah,' Rantha agreed. 'Not as pretty as my fiancée, but I'll take it.'


'What's a fiancée?'


Rantha pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Uhh. A lifemate, but not a lifemate yet. It's a promise to be lifemates.'


Zand considered this with a solemn expression. 'Can't break a promise. Not ever.'


'Not ever,' Rantha murmured. 'I really should marry her, huh. But does she really want someone like me? I'm not helping you just to be nice, Zand. You gotta know that by now.'


'Yeahhh,' Zand said, trying out the word and evidently liking it. 'You're a big liar.'


Rantha pressed her lips together, not bothering to respond to that. When she finally mustered up the courage to look back again, she discovered that she was alone in the cockpit. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she kicked her feet up onto the console (it only pinged unhappily once, so she can't have hit anything important) and closed her eyes.


She totally wasn't helping these two orphans because she'd been one once, in the dankest streets of Earth, where any good act was rewarded with pain, misery, and betrayal. And she totally wasn't afraid that Jenna would realise there was no advantage in marrying a no-hoper like her.


You're a big liar, Rantha thought.




***




'We're dropping out of hyperspace,' Rantha announced through the ship's intercom. 'I'd sure appreciate some singers up here. I've got the worst singing voice in the galaxy — and besides which, I don't know this Song of Sqia'lon Seven so I'd rather not die while strangling a cat. Thanks.'


Footsteps filled the corridor outside. Jenna was evidently the first one in because her voice was the one that said, 'Only another human could appreciate your sense of humour.'


'Or another idiot,' Rantha said wryly.


'You're not an idiot,' Jenna told her, leaning in to kiss Rantha's cheek. 'Prickly and irritable for most of the month — even worse for a week of that — but you are lovable, in your own way.'


'My own way, huh.'


'Shut up. You should know by now I have no intention of killing you.'


Rantha jerked her head around to say something, but the two kids had just entered. Totally not the time to get into it with her fiancée. Especially since the console had just started playing a recorded message sent from the web of satellites surrounding Sqia'lon Seven. A being with decidedly alien vocal chords was squawking in a language that made Rantha's human ears ache.


'Owww!' Rantha exclaimed.


It was Jenna who reached forward and flipped the switch to reply. She nodded at the siblings.


Zand and Kand moved up to the console in one movement. Their lips remained sealed, but their antennae began to buzz frantically, like a hive of bees that had just been kicked. The recorded message kept on playing and the ship kept on sailing through space, bringing them that much closer to the satellites turning towards them.


The satellites were larger than Rantha had expected. They easily outsized the ship — and the laser cannons strapped to their bellies wouldn't just slice Rantha and her passengers to pieces. No, this would be a full-on disintegration.


Rantha had half a mind to give Jenna some brave, romantic farewell but A) her ears hurt so freaking much and B) it occurred to her that interrupting the Song of Sqia'lon Seven might not be in her best interests. Somehow knowing that Rantha needed the support, Jenna placed her hands on Rantha's shoulders, a steady, firm pressure that made the captain even more sure that doing nothing was the best course of action right now.


As for their relationship...well, there would no more of this doing nothing stuff.


They could die. And Rantha would be damned if she'd let that happen before finally walking down the aisle. If said aisle could be found out here among the stars.


I will freaking make one if I have to, Rantha vowed. We are getting married ASAP.


The Song of Sqia'lon Seven stopped. The siblings folded their antennae together and then clasped hands, holding out their spare appendages to Rantha and Jenna, who took them without question. Not a sound filled the cockpit — even the ship was uncharacteristically quiet, as though it was holding its breath along with its four occupants.


More squawking filled the cockpit.


'They're letting us through!' Kand exclaimed in delight.


Rantha sagged in the pilot's chair. 'Oh, super.' Now I have to actually make good on my promise. But it's not like Jenna heard it...


Zand jumped into Rantha's lap and stared pointedly up at the captain.


'You can't read minds, can you?' Rantha demanded.


'And why would that be a problem?' Jenna asked her.


Rantha coughed into her hand. 'Uh, so how about the air in here. It's pretty dry, huh?'


Zand just grinned. Which only made her feel that much more guilty.


***


When Rantha and her passengers disembarked, it was to raucous celebration — the kind of celebration that involved dancing through mid-air because the gravity was much lower here than it was on many of the planets inside the Terran Territories. Jenna took to it like a local, leaping from moss-covered crater to the next and then laughing as Rantha shuffled along, trying and failing to keep her flat-footed self on the ground.


'Is there anything you're not good at?' Rantha grumbled.


Jenna bounced past her. 'Getting you to open up!'


Rantha didn't bother disputing that, especially when Zand and Kand were giving her one of those looks — along with hundreds of other Saizons. It was extremely uncomfortable, slouching beneath those knowing eyes, passing by those twitching antennae. Rantha would have gone straight back to the ship had she not tripped over a sizable chunk of gold and gone flying — the momentum carried her right down to the stage the locals had set up for some sort of ceremony.


'Niiice,' Rantha said with an appreciative whistle as she found another gleaming chunk — and then about thirty more. 'I mean, it's nice that they're gonna thank us, huh?'


'Try again,' Jenna prompted. 'I know you have something else you'd rather say.'


The temptation to keep her feelings buried beneath curmudgeonly behaviour was almost too much for Rantha. But Jenna deserved better from her.


And damn it, there were hundreds of pairs of antennae nearby.


All the Saizons already knew how she felt.


'It's nice that we got these two home,' Rantha rejoined. 'I never got that — you know, a home. So it's nice. Now shut up.'


The ceremony was brief and held in Terran, which must have grated on the locals since they hated the Terran Territories so damn much. But their heroes were human and deserved to hear thanks and praises in their own tongue.


'And to those that saved our dearly loved Kand and Zand,' an elder wheezed, his blue colouring more akin to periwinkle than the cyan of the younger Saizons, 'we offer you our world. Our home is yours. All that you see is ours, so it is yours too.'


'Not a word about the gold nuggets, Rantha,' Jenna warned in a low voice.


'Wouldn't dream of it,' Rantha muttered, then quickly plastered a smile on her face as the elder presented her with a blobby, phallic device that threatened to pull inappropriate snorts of laughter from Rantha. 'Uh, thanks. But you know, I didn't do this for a reward...oh crap, I think I actually meant that.'


The elder's antennae twitched with impatience. Rantha fell dutifully silent.


'This device contains a recording of the Song of Sqia'lon Seven,' the elder intoned. 'It will enable you to come and go from your new home as you please.'


That's worth more than anything I could fit in the hold, Rantha realised. Even IPGM would forgive me if I gave them that. All these resources, all that profit they could make while destroying this entire planet...


They absolutely cannot have it.


'Is there anything else we can give you?' the elder asked. 'No price is too great for the heroes that returned Kand and Zand to us.'


Rantha grinned. She could practically feel Jenna's concern and growing disapproval.


'How do you guys get married on this planet?' Rantha asked.


Rantha soared a good thirty metres away from the stage when Jenna launched an overly enthusiastic hug at her.


***


'Still think I want to kill you?' Jenna asked as the ship tore its way through Sqia'lon Seven's atmosphere. The hold contained several large chunks of precious metal, but all of it was to be sold on behalf of the Saizons. The profits would then be used to purchase exciting vids made by humans — something the Saizons had been lacking for a while, being cut off from the Terran Territories Net as they were.


Jenna was sitting in Rantha's lap, a position she'd assumed at some point after take-off. Rantha might have scolded her about restraints and safety, but she was too happy to care. She was married to the best — and most dangerous — woman in the galaxy, she had a resource-rich sanctuary to retreat to when things got too hot, and she had a new job that let her watch the starlines.


'Nah, you love me far too much to kill me,' Rantha said with an easy grin. 'Still glad I finally told you about my tragic backstory? You know, about being raised in the slums where being nice for no reason only got you dead and all that?'


Jenna favoured her with a smile. 'No, it was past time for all that. And I feel very honoured that you were able to share it with me. I'm in this for the long haul, Rantha.'


'Are you sure you didn't marry me by accident? Because I'm not very nice sometimes...'


'Shut up and put the autopilot on,' Jenna ordered, hopping off Rantha's lap and heading for the door. 'And come inspect the captain's quarters with me.'

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