Ar'Tok - Alana Khan Page 0,1

says he’s the comms officer on a starship. I assume he works for the Intergalactic Federation. When I’m holding for him, I allow myself to pull up images of enormous Federation starships and pour over pictures of their bridges. I visualize handsome Ar’Tok in his red and black Federation uniform, sitting stiffly in his black leather comms chair, performing official business.

I never hold it against him that he’s in the Federation. Although I’m only twenty-one, I understand that different species and different people have varying feelings about the Federation. I was brought up to hate them. Mom called them imperialists. Dad called them invaders.

But perhaps Ar’Tok really needed the job, or the money. Or maybe he truly believes the Federation is doing important work throughout the galaxy. Personally, I think they’re evil dictatorial despots, but we’ve never discussed it, which is probably a very good thing.

I grew up speaking mostly English because of my Mom, but am multilingual, speaking both Universal and my dad’s language—Whelpie. I speak Universal on our late-night comms so Ar’Tok will never know I’m human.

“Star?” his voice sounds breathless, as if he couldn’t wait to see if I’m still holding for him.

“Yes. I’m still here.”

“I’ve been listening to swacheck music from Cheredon,” he says. “It’s different from any we’ve discussed before. I didn’t like it at first. In fact, I hated it. But it’s grown on me. Care to hear a sampling?”

“You’ve turned me on to a lot of great new music. Go for it,” I tell him.

He pipes the music over our comm, and for a moment, I’m glad he can’t see my face. I’m sure my expression is more than skeptical. Shock would be more like it. Or maybe disgust. What I hear is screechy and discordant.

“I can imagine,” he says over the music, “you don’t like it yet. Here’s what made me appreciate it; listen for the flute melody in the background.”

Okay. Lovely lone flute playing counterpoint in the background. Then it becomes the foreground, and the beauty of the piece surprises me.

“I’m in awe. You figured out how to appreciate that?” I say when the piece ends.

“I assumed there had to be something redeeming in all that dissonance. I found it,” he sounds proud of himself in his humble way.

I like him more every time we talk. I wish someday we could meet, but a Federation officer and an illegal human in an off-the-grid satellite who makes her living performing criminal hacks, most of which are against the Feds, is a relationship doomed to failure.

I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts, though.

“I wish I could see your face, Star,” he says, his voice rougher than before.

Glancing at the timestamp on my screen, I see we’ve been talking for more than an hour. We’re getting to my favorite part.

“I know. I wish I could see you, too, Ar’Tok.” I scroll through the Simkin pics until I’m at my favorite one, then blow it up to just the face. The bronze warrior is so handsome he takes my breath away. Although he’s muscular and masculine, his expression is tender. It’s always this image I look at when we’re toward the end of our comm.

“I imagine you when I’m alone in my bunk, Star; I can’t lie. Tell me again what you look like.”

I close my eyes and pretend he’s right next to me, whispering into my ear.

“Long brown hair I pull into a tail at the back of my head. I’m humanoid . . .” I can’t even tell him I’m human. Humans are prohibited in space. If the Feds apprehend me, they’d steal everything I own, then sell me. “My skin is beige, and my eyes are brown. And,” I blush a bit, but force myself to say it, “I always wear a smile when I talk to you, Ar’Tok.”

“Mmm.” I hear him breathe for a moment. “I always picture you with a smile, Star. Not a wide one with lots of teeth. Your teeth are white, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I picture you with a small smile, as if it’s meant for me and me alone.”

Oh yes. He always says something toward the end of our comm that makes the tips of my breasts tighten and gives me swirly feelings down below. That was it.

“I wear that smile a lot, Ar’Tok. A small smile that’s just for you.” Gods, I wish we could meet in person someday.

“And what do you picture that gives you that smile, Star?”

I suck in a breath and have a long