Not Quite Terran Part 1 (Scifi Alien Romance Serial) by Erin Tate
Authors: Erin Tate
Tags: scifi romance
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Part One
Rebecca had learned two things during her six years of service as an intake officer on the Rilli space station—how to fend off an eight-armed Mazon from Ladza with a Terran fork, and that a smiling Varr was never a good thing. Ever.
She ignored his approach, pretending the alien wasn’t skirting the clearly marked pathway from the station landing platforms to intake. Rilli had a clearly defined and oft transmitted set of protocols that each and every ship was required to recognize upon approach and landing. Apparently, that didn’t include Varr. At least he didn’t seem to think so. It was only their long association—she would call it friendship if his kind had such a thing—that kept her from sending a correction jolt to his federation identifier.
A small, three-legged Luvendari leaned over the pathway barrier, breaking the perfectly organized line this group had established. “Why does Varr not must wait?”
He skittered beyond the barrier, his talon-like feet clicking and clacking over the station’s metal flooring. A rush of goose bumps slid down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck rose with the sound. Something got to her when she heard the rhythmic clatter of their small claws. It was one reason she ensured the Luvendari adhered to federation protocol without fail. Because if it was ever broken, both Rebecca and the offender would be called to the stationmaster’s office. She did not want to be secured in a small room with one of their kind.
She reached over and tapped a single key on her console. The soft press changed the pale white glow of the guide lines along the ground to a sickly yellow. “Federation code 17647 subsection 721.3 states all visitors to a federation sanctioned facility must first process through intake. Failure to do so will make the offender subject to correction. You have three tics to return to your position in line. Comply.”
Varr finally arrived at the front of the line and stood to the left of her current arrival in process. “Hello, Rebecca. This morning is good?”
He was one of the few Rilli visitors who attempted to speak her native language, even if his grammar lacked. That was one of the few reasons she was a little lax when it came to him. That and their few shared moments of a violent past… The way he’d saved her ass more than once, how he’d snatched her from aliens intent on violating her…
“Bright sun to you, Varr.” She gave him a narrow eyed glare. “If you’re here for processing, get in line.” She removed her finger from the console and pointed down the row of aliens she had yet to admit.
“Sadness, Rebecca.”
Sad. Right. His people never felt sadness. They were logical and passionate about business, but “sad” was not part of their vocabulary. “Try again.”
As she spoke, she beckoned for the next visitor’s data pad while also snaring her scanner with her other hand. When she sought to remove the device from the alien’s grip, the large Knara hesitated. It took a small step back while gesturing with its primary tentacle and yelling something about physical inspection not being a part of policy. The movement of the massive alien sent the whole row shuffling and stumbling back toward the landing bay.
God of All save her from off-worlders’ expectation of lax inspections. “Federation code 17658 subsection 372.4 states visitors to a federation sanctioned facility must present their federation documentation to an official intake officer. Both digital and physical inspection are required to be performed by the intake officer. Present your data pad. Comply.”
At the same time she was giving her directive, the scraping and skittering step of the Luvendari reached her once again and his voice rose. “Varr must waiting.”
“Terran Rebecca, please speaking with you?” Varr added to the small drama playing out at her station.
Rebecca dropped her scanner and reached for the console, once again intent on
Rebecca had learned two things during her six years of service as an intake officer on the Rilli space station—how to fend off an eight-armed Mazon from Ladza with a Terran fork, and that a smiling Varr was never a good thing. Ever.
She ignored his approach, pretending the alien wasn’t skirting the clearly marked pathway from the station landing platforms to intake. Rilli had a clearly defined and oft transmitted set of protocols that each and every ship was required to recognize upon approach and landing. Apparently, that didn’t include Varr. At least he didn’t seem to think so. It was only their long association—she would call it friendship if his kind had such a thing—that kept her from sending a correction jolt to his federation identifier.
A small, three-legged Luvendari leaned over the pathway barrier, breaking the perfectly organized line this group had established. “Why does Varr not must wait?”
He skittered beyond the barrier, his talon-like feet clicking and clacking over the station’s metal flooring. A rush of goose bumps slid down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck rose with the sound. Something got to her when she heard the rhythmic clatter of their small claws. It was one reason she ensured the Luvendari adhered to federation protocol without fail. Because if it was ever broken, both Rebecca and the offender would be called to the stationmaster’s office. She did not want to be secured in a small room with one of their kind.
She reached over and tapped a single key on her console. The soft press changed the pale white glow of the guide lines along the ground to a sickly yellow. “Federation code 17647 subsection 721.3 states all visitors to a federation sanctioned facility must first process through intake. Failure to do so will make the offender subject to correction. You have three tics to return to your position in line. Comply.”
Varr finally arrived at the front of the line and stood to the left of her current arrival in process. “Hello, Rebecca. This morning is good?”
He was one of the few Rilli visitors who attempted to speak her native language, even if his grammar lacked. That was one of the few reasons she was a little lax when it came to him. That and their few shared moments of a violent past… The way he’d saved her ass more than once, how he’d snatched her from aliens intent on violating her…
“Bright sun to you, Varr.” She gave him a narrow eyed glare. “If you’re here for processing, get in line.” She removed her finger from the console and pointed down the row of aliens she had yet to admit.
“Sadness, Rebecca.”
Sad. Right. His people never felt sadness. They were logical and passionate about business, but “sad” was not part of their vocabulary. “Try again.”
As she spoke, she beckoned for the next visitor’s data pad while also snaring her scanner with her other hand. When she sought to remove the device from the alien’s grip, the large Knara hesitated. It took a small step back while gesturing with its primary tentacle and yelling something about physical inspection not being a part of policy. The movement of the massive alien sent the whole row shuffling and stumbling back toward the landing bay.
God of All save her from off-worlders’ expectation of lax inspections. “Federation code 17658 subsection 372.4 states visitors to a federation sanctioned facility must present their federation documentation to an official intake officer. Both digital and physical inspection are required to be performed by the intake officer. Present your data pad. Comply.”
At the same time she was giving her directive, the scraping and skittering step of the Luvendari reached her once again and his voice rose. “Varr must waiting.”
“Terran Rebecca, please speaking with you?” Varr added to the small drama playing out at her station.
Rebecca dropped her scanner and reached for the console, once again intent on
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