Starlight streaked ribbons against the black.
A dazzling but silent display outside the glass window of the ship.
Jasmine's eyes followed the patterns as best she could, a convenient distraction; she could not afford to let her mind wander.
Errant thoughts could be dangerous, she needed to be in complete control of her thoughts and feelings. Fear, joy, anger, sadness, love…
Aliens were easily susceptible to Human emotions.
And Jasmine ‘The Namegivers’ influence was stronger than most.
They continued to make that abundantly clear.
Stars streaked and blinked out of existence, her eyes stung with fatigue, but as she raised her hand to rub them-
Tink!
Armoured hands met glass, and she was once again forced to contend with a reflection she didn't recognise. The spacesuit, a jumbled mix of alien prototypical bio-symbiotic power armour, was physically fused with her nervous system. While it covered and protected her, to Jasmine, it felt more like a second skin, she could feel everything through it. The helmet especially, was unnerving, as though she was never wearing one to begin with.
Tink Tink Tink
A blank, black glass facade stared back at her, protecting her from the same forces that gave her the power to communicate with her xenocompanions. The armoured right finger lingered on her forehead, tracing down her face before flicking off her chin. Jasmine raised both hands to her cheeks and patted away the bubbling discontent.
Sure, things were bad, but they could have been a hell of a lot worse.
After all, she was alive, well and no longer alone. Standing shoulder-width apart, facing the window, she began a breathing exercise, inhaling the good air and exhaling the bad thoughts. Fear, sadness and anxiety all faded away as Jasmine recalled all their accomplishments.
The negotiations with intergalactic councillors, commanding armies of genetically engineered killing machines, defeating an insane abomination demigod spaceship… saving her companions from a near-death experience. Every memory recalled her presence, Jasmine's signature frequency grew stronger, the warm glow of a summer's day before the ocean.
Frequency (or Freq as the aliens commonly referred to it) was the bio-electric signature of life, an ‘aura’ as most humans would understand it, amplified by emotions. Every living creature had one, even humans, although they lacked the organs to sense it.
Jasmine was one of only 3 to have had the alien organ implanted, and she took it upon herself to look after those who didn't.
The windowed alcove was the only place of solace she had really, around a corner and down a short hallway was the rest of the storage room.
A makeshift infirmary on an unknown ship.
About a hundred or so injured or lost waited around on the floor, scraps of blankets and gel mattresses, whatever could be found at the time of escape. So much had happened so fast, the crew were still reeling from events.
And as Jasmine turned the corner, she could feel all eyes on her.
She let off a warm and calming pulse, they were all safe and alive together, and there was no need to worry. Aliens in front of her visually relaxed, many turned their gaze politely down as mutterings of ‘your grace’ were heard.
Most of those who were injured by sheer numbers alone, were the pirates. Modifier level intelligence class and unfamiliar to her, large upright felines, furry white yetis, large-eyed snout-looking critters, others more so. Council Ranger Sulins, Large, 10-foot-tall dinosaurs in power armour, bowed their heads as she walked past, “Commander,” they addressed her, she acknowledged the title and nodded politely in return.
There was one alien in particular she was looking for, of course, not that he was hiding, she simply followed the feeling of a river right to him.
Doctor Uru’nav Xant, creator-level intelligence and the sole reason she wasn't an exhibit in a zoo. The Zenthi was crouched over a Ranger patient, monitoring the open wound on the warrior's foot. Xant, having previously been a Department head on a scientific research station, had been volunteered as the overseer of the infirmary. Checking up on patience, rationing med gel and other supplies, the universe seemed to always find use of his skills.
“Xant!” Jasmine smiled as she approached, and her Freq grew brighter.
Xant lifted his long-snouted head, small black ears sticking up with delight.
“Jasmine, youre awake,” his translated voice soothing and thoughtful to her ear, “The other humans have been trying to get my attention over something, but there has been some delay in the communication,” he folded his arms begins his back, dark brown eyes closing in thought, “It doesnt seem like its an emergency, but i’m hoping you can spare some nuance,”
“Certainly,” she agreed.
The seven other humans huddled together in their own group, keeping and conversing amongst themselves, while they had arrived with and crewed with the pirates, it was a struggle to communicate without a translator. The humans didn’t have translators, and the pirates largely didn't know how to read; they had gotten by on gestures of goodwill and the shared love of song.
The entire group looked relieved to see her.
“Jasmine!” Oskar ran up to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her past the crowd to a makeshift nook of blankets and pillows.
“What's up? Xant said there might be an emergency. Is everything ok?” she asked,
“It's Sigi and the pups,” Oskar looked down at his beloved golden retriever, “she's not herself, sluggish, tired and well…” his voice trailed off as he stood aside. Sieglinde lay on a blanket with her ears down flat, worriedly overseeing her litter of seven. The pups were already stumbling around, happily letting out squeeks and playful growls.
“Is there a problem?” Xant questioned when the conversation stalled.
“The pups,” Jasmine pointed out, “they're barely a week old, they shouldn't be nearly as active as this.”
Xant's ears flattened to match Sieglindes as he ran his diagnostics tool over her and the puppies.
The pups squirmed in his hands as he looked them over.
“Xant?” Siglinde looked to the doctor, “Are my pups well?”
The Zenithi gave the dog a reassuring scritch behind the ear.
“Your pups are perfectly healthy, do not worry and rest, Seiglinde,” he said and gave his prognosis to Jasmine. “How long is the usual development time for dogs?”
Jasmine conferred with Oskar.
“About [a year] to adulthood, depending on the breed,”
Xant ran a hand over his ears thoughtfully, the doctor pondering his words before answering.
“There could be any number of factors that could be causing the increased cognitive development, but for now, I’ll keep my snout close to the ground on the vatling- my apologies, puppies. As for feeling tired and sluggish, the puppies are draining extra [kilojoules] from her intake, she's not getting sufficient nutrients.” he raised his dataslate, adding a voice note, “Increased surveillance, increase ration amount 2.5%.”
Jasmine pursed her lips,
“2.5%? Is that all?”
Xant snorted, frustrated with the situation.
“That's all we can spare at the moment. We have a limited amount of supplies and no way to regenerate resources. We’ve been in lightspace for nearly [72] hours with no communication as to when or where the jump will end. Until I have more information, I can only do so much,”
Jasmine scanned the infirmary, a sea of tension and uncertainty.
“If you need information, then I will get it for you,” she said, turning on her heel and heading back out of the room.
“Hey!” Oskar called, “where are you going?!”
“To the Bridge,” She answered, “The Admiral has left us in the dark for long enough!”