Page 71 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“Where Tiniest?” Quad inquires, casting his head around the opulent room. “See many tinies, but no Tiniest?” He adds, scratching his broad head.

“Felixus... has fallen out of favor with his people,” Xandor answers with a forlorn expression that tugs on my heart with sympathy. “But he’ll be coming with Tyrxie and me to meet Krogoth,” he adds, nodding at me.

“Okay... I miss Tiniest,” Quad replies, hanging his head downward, then exploding upward with worried eagerness. “You leaving too, Tiny?” He adds, pointing many accusing fingers at me.

“Um,” I struggle, taking a deep breath, knowing and dreading that this moment is approaching. It’s something Xandor and I have discussed at length—my decision to leave the crew and join him. What once seemed like a straightforward choice now feels overwhelming, especially as I look at Quad’s worried expression and the troubled faces of the others. This decision is proving to be far more difficult than I anticipated.

“Yeah... I’m joining Xandor. We’ll be leaving soon. Which reminds me,” I state, looking at my wrist console, preparing to send them payments. “The credits I owe you for helping to rescue Xandor.”

“Not a rescue. More like an awakening,” Xandor chimes in with a short laugh.

“You were right, Fuzzy!” Quad booms, folding his arms and sulking. “She leaves.”

“It was obvious,” Hyanxa declares with a knowing grin. “Thing is, Tyrxie, we were in the crowd watching the ceremony, and—”

“I waved at you! Did you see?” Quad interrupts, waving his four arms, reliving the event.

I saw nothing other than an endless sea of faces.

But before I can reply, Hyanxa says, “Quiet, Quad, I’m speaking seriously now.”

“Okay,” Quad whispers, placing a finger to his mouth, something I taught him.

Hyanxa sighs then looks at me, her golden eyes fierce. “As I was saying, we saw the ship, the... Kaanus’s Gamble, and had a talk.” She glances between Quad, Mod and Job. “We reckon you keep your credits. Buying your stake out only seems fair.”

Her words leave me stunned as my hand hovers over my wrist console.

Xandor scoffs, “The most powerful private ship in the known galaxies. It must be worth a billion!” He waves a dismissive hand.

“At least,” Noroth adds with a frown.

Xandor’s caution bounces off me. The truth is, I never expected to have the ship or the money—five hundred thousand credits is a fortune! More than enough to live comfortably, and I know Xandor will always look after me. “What about you two?” I ask, glancing towards Mob and Job with a look of puzzlement. “I thought you were going to retire and have loads of mini-yous?”

Can the universe handle hundreds of Mod’s and Job’s?

“We stay till Hyanxa buys our shares, or we sell ship. Make much more credits. Yes?” Job answers, placing his many arms limbs behind his head with a relaxed sigh. “Work will be easy. Ship doesn’t require new parts, hull’s integrity doesn’t consist of rust and sideways welding. Yes?” He glares at me with an accusing eye.

“Hey, you did repairs too!” I snap back in offense, only to see Job smirking, his antennae fluttering wildly. The realization that he’s just trying to fire me up hits me.

The crew watch me with warmth in their eyes, and it’s at this moment I realize this might be the last time I’ll see them. “Thank you for everything,” I say, through glistening eyes, rushing over to Job, giving him a hug, feeling his bony exoskeleton through his polymer clothes.

“Goodbye, female mammaloid.” Job strokes my back, “I miss your sometimes adequate repairs. Yes?”

“You will, because I did most of them,” I laugh before adding, “Goodbye, Job.”

As I approach Mod, he recoils, holding up his fluttering arm limbs. “No mammaloid excretions, thank you! No?”

Undeterred, I approach with my arms out wide. “Come on, you know you want to!” I latch onto the stumbling Mod like a blood-sucking creature, making sure to get plenty of ‘mammaloid excretions’ on him. “Goodbye, Mod, thanks for patching me up all those times.”

“My job. No?” Mod squirms until he sighs and relaxes, placing a set of arms on my back. “Farewell, black-haired female mammaloid.”

I turn to see Quad, rubbing his eyes, sobbing noisily, which twists my heart, threatening to spill my own tears. “I don’t want Tiny to leave,” he wails, his broad shoulders shaking.

Approaching him, I place a hand on his arm. “Hey, Quad, I’m really going to miss you. But remember, you’re going to meet loads of new friends on the fancy new ship. Lots of new crew to pick up and bash. Okay?” I say, gently.

Quad’s eyes shoot to me, snot running down his face. “I don’t want stupid new friends. I want you to stay!” he roars, crying harder.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, Quad. Sometimes in life we have no choice but to say goodbye to people we care about.” I wrap my arms around him, feeling him heaving against me. “We’ll meet againsomeday, and you can tell me all about the amazing things you’ve done.”

---