Page 4 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

I squirm but can’t break free. With no other recourse, I bite him on the ear.

He cries out in pain--I’ve found a vulnerable spot, it seems--and drops me. HIs hand claps to the side of his head and he looks…betrayed?

“Why in the name of the Elders did you do that?” he sputters.

My eyes widen.

“You speak English? Not even Galactic Standard, but English? How?”

He scowls at me and touches his ear, then checks his fingers. I guess he’s looking to see if he’s bleeding. Seeing nothing, he returns his gaze to me.

“The Loq crystal helps us understand each other, even if we speak different languages. To me, it is as if you are speaking Drokan.”

“Speaking what, now? I’ve traveled over half the galaxy, and I’ve never even heard of one of your species. Are you with the League of Non Aligned Races?”

“Planet? What’s a planet?”

I tilt my head to the side.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

He sh akes his head.

“No, I am not being deliberately obtuse. I do not know this concept. It does not translate.”

“Oh shit.”

I lean against the wall and shake my head.

“Uncontacted. We crashed on an Unconcacted world. I’m violating so many regulations just standing here, let alone speaking with you.”

He cocks an eyebrow under his horn.

“What regulations?”

I go off on a nervous rant, unable to stop the words spilling from my throat.

“Oh, only about a million. Good grief, I’m influencing your culture. Because of me your people may never reach your full potential.”

I gasp and cover my mouth and nose.

“I haven’t had any vaccinations to be on this planet! I’m going to get War of the Worlds’d!”

“Please, be calm, Miss…you are a female, yes?”

“Um, what has that got to do with anything?” I sputter. “I’m still going to be dead? Oh god, I think my nose is filling up with mucous as we speak.”

I put a finger to my neck.

“My pulse is racing, I probably have an infection in my adrenal glands. This is it. No wonder I had that hallucination when we met. I’ve clearly got a brain amoeba! I think I can feel it munching away at my cerebral cortex. Just do me a favor and kill me quick. I’d rather not suffer.”

“Please, be calm. I do not think you are ill,” he replies in a deep, resonant voice. No woman in history has ever calmed down because some random man vasked us to. But for some reason, I do feel calmer. Something inside of me really wants to trust this man.

Which, of course, sets off a whole new set of alarms.

“How would you know? Are you a doctor or something?”

“No, I am not a Learned Scholar,” he says. I guess doctor doesn’t quite translate. “However, I’ve had training in Medicine, and you show no signs of any illness I have ever heard of. The desert is not a place where the Unseen can thrive.”

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