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Don't Show Her The Truth

Published: 2 Aug 2024 | Updated: 2 Aug 2024

A deaf assassin finds unlikely companionship with a mysterious woman on a strange planet. Survival, secrets, and unexpected bonds unfold.

The world had been silent since he shattered his eardrums. While music would never feel the same, and he would miss the faint whispers of the wind in his homeworld, he was still alive. He was the only assassin in the universe with no hearing, but anyone who didn’t hire him or stood in his way was a fool.

Sensible people regarded the name Stardust with awe, but it was a nickname. Most species didn’t have the vocal capacity to pronounce his language, and likewise, he didn’t speak theirs. He’d once used a translator and hearing aids, but the constant buzzing feedback and headaches impeded his ability to work.

Why should he compensate when most knew sign language? Despite his fearsome reputation, Stardust wasn’t much to look at. Hailing from the Lebil species wasn’t great. With their short stature resulting from the immense aerial pressure on their homeworld, he wasn’t intimidating. Assume at your peril.

This mission had been better than most. He’d only destroyed half his ship by faking an engine failure and ramming it into a ravine to avoid capture. This was what he got for working for one crime syndicate to kill another rival gang leader. They’d hunt him across the galaxy.

They’ll squabble and elect a new leader until they tire of them and kill them. The cycle would continue for infinity. He should’ve orchestrated a betrayal and collected the money without lifting a finger. Subterfuge wasn’t his specialty. He did a hit-and-run. He’d have to change ships again. His earnings only covered a new vessel and a few days of food.

Breath escaped his frilled facial spines from his airholes on either side of his face in a long sigh. He was stuck on a hostile planet with a price on his head. People would pay for a charred corpse if it looked like him. He stared up at the waiting opening from the bottom of the ravine.

Teleportation devices had existed for decades, but they were too large to be portable, and people guarded the technology. Only the rich could afford them. He’d pack and get out. He needed a disguise because he was visible from miles away with this garb.

He had an iconic way of dressing, which made him recognizable. No one knew what he looked like beneath his costume. He scuttled inside what was left of the deserted wreck. Stardust retrieved his badge, his weaponry, and supplies, stuffing them in a bag.

His friend suggested changing weapons so they wouldn’t look threatening. His double-edged twin blades could combine into an average-looking staff. He shuffled through the main hallway, searching for supplies. Stardust would leave the rest for someone desperate. Didn’t hurt to spread goodwill.

After he’d left the ship’s remains behind, Stardust wandered the rocky surface of the desolate plains in the western hemisphere of the planet. He was clad in his civilian attire of a simple blue knee-length tunic, dark-navy pants, and a bandana wrapped around his sweating head to keep out the sun.

Before his species encountered the others in this galaxy, they hadn’t had clothes. Why bother when you were covered in scales insulating against the harsh climate of your homeworld? They adorned themselves in precious stones according to rank. He had one on the center of his forehead and others lining his cheekbones and facial spines.

Putting a cloth on one’s body was a small price for space travel and resources. He was hungry, and a carnivore. He only saw grass swaying in the breeze. Stardust felt vibrations echoing through the ground beneath his bare, clawed feet. Someone was approaching from the back. He’d assess the situation before deciding what role to play.

The Vijan looked to be a young adult, judging by their gray topknot, and a woman, seeing the large green bead at her throat. The young woman mouthed something, her hands flailing with her species’ characteristic dramatic hand gesturing. Most assumed he could lip-read, but trying was exhausting.

The Vijan stared at him, trying to work out why he wasn’t answering. Why had he forgotten that badge? His friend, the only one who knew who he was and didn’t care, had the brilliant idea of a badge with the words “Please use sign language with me.”

It would change language depending on the retina scanners implanted in the viewer. He’d rather drop the politeness, but his friend had insisted.

She signed in the common language, “I’m lost. Are you a local? My ship needs repairs.”

Her arms were so thin he could snap her wrist with his thumb and foreclaw. Vijan were delicate creatures because of their homeworld’s low gravity. Their appearance was a lie. They lived for three thousand years, and he’d made the mistake of going against one in a Battle Royale when he’d needed the cash.

He lost. If this young woman was anything like her fellow Vijan, he’d avoid crossing her.

“Can’t help you,” he said as his frills puffed outwards in his species’ equivalent of a shrug. “I’m in the same situation.”

Her delicate eyebrows lifted at his answer. He’d never get over how strange they were. She mouthed the words accompanied with the same over-the-top movements. “Where’s your ship?”

He raised a finger in the air, twirling it around in a horizontal motion, meaning he didn’t want to explain. Stardust needed to get off this rock.

“It’ll be better if we stick together. There’s safety in numbers,” she said. She had a point, but she was safer by herself.

”If you try anything,” she added, stepping closer, “I have a blade on me.”

He appreciated the honesty. She didn’t need to know he had countless weapons. He had enough sense to avoid unnecessary violence. Stardust held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t hurt you.”

She smirked. “I didn’t think so.”

“You have a map?” he asked. He’d searched the wreckage of his ship, but they’d been destroyed. Why hadn’t he uploaded information about this forsaken planet to his cranial interface?

She nodded and produced a pad from her belt. A 3D hologram of the celestial body appeared. “We need to head north towards the mountains. The capital city is in the foothills.”

Whoever had taught her sign language had done an excellent job. He only had put up with her until they reached civilization.

Days cycled into the night. They trekked across the great plains, only hindered by the Vijan, stopping to admire a new piece of flora. What was interesting about plants? The young woman sauntered along, clearing boulders as if they were pebbles. Stardust scrambled over. It wasn’t the first time he wished he were taller.

A few hundred paces ahead, there was a herd of grass-eaters in a clearing. “You eat meat?”

Her eyes widened in revulsion. Vijan must be herbivores. His frills splayed outwards. “Suit yourself. I’m hungry.”

He was about to draw his gun, an average-looking pistol with no upgrades. He hated it, but he’d draw attention with anything else. She got there first. She hefted a collapsible rifle and fired. A small grass-eater in the distance wobbled before falling. The Vijan turned to him, flashing a smug grin. “There’s your food.”

“Call yourself a herbivore,” Stardust signed, trying to cover his gratitude with contempt. They sat on the grassy plains while they ate. Stardust’s shoulders were stiff, his limbs on fire. He saved the physical stuff for finishing the job, not walking for days on end. The sun descended as they finished.

“What’s your story?” she asked. He shrugged. Why would she want to know? “You’ve got something to hide. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in the middle of nowhere,” she replied, cocking her head.

“I could be a farmer looking for a job.”

“Those are the hands of someone who hasn’t worked a day in their life. You’re a fugitive,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“I’m not,” he gave her a sly smile. Stardust liked to think he’d gotten good at lying. “What makes you think I have a story?”

She shrugged, laying down a cloth blanket. “You never know who you’ll meet.”

He lay down to rest on the opposite side of the dwindling fire. If anyone approached, he’d feel them before they got too close.

The further they went, the more the ground rose. The climate changed too, from dry and hot to humid and cool. By the time they’d reached the foothills, they were drenched in sweat and covered in dirt. The grasses were pushed back by broad trees and shrubs.

A deserted settlement. An old starship sat on a landing pad. The ship’s lights flickered on and off as they approached. It was a large commercial liner. “Let’s see if they left us something to eat,” the young woman said.

Stardust followed her, gaze darting everywhere. The ramp had fallen off, but he could see inside the airlock. Broken crates littered the floor. “I don’t think anyone’s here. No one’s home,” she said. She made her way through the ship, the flickering lights outlining her path.

He flicked his flashlight, trying to catch her attention. The Vijan turned. “I’ll stay out here and keep watch,” he signed. He wasn’t getting trapped somewhere where he couldn’t feel anyone’s footsteps.

“You do that,” she replied, grinning.

He stayed outside the ship, overlooking the abandoned settlement. There were ruined structures covered in overgrowth. They may have been the old capital before the mountains eroded. Stardust felt the young woman approach. Her hands, as he’d predicted, were empty.

“What did I tell you?” he asked. “There’s nothing here. The capital must be close.”

“Yes, according to the map,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt to check for supplies.”

She was right, but he needed to get off this rock. Who knows what the Vijan might do if she found out who he was? He was a fool for accompanying her, but he appreciated the company.

The young woman strode through the thick foothill shrubbery the next day. He scuttled around a tree, using his claws to haul himself upwards. Stardust met her at the top where she’d paused, grinning at him.

Waiting until he’d reached a safe place, he asked, “What’s funny?”

“I’ll never get over how strange your species look when you tackle obstacles three times your size.” She smiled and smothered what must’ve been a laugh.

He was stuck in a body made for only one landscape.

The Vijan pointed at something in the distance, handing him a pair of binoculars. Who carried those anymore? Especially when you could get implants with a built-in zoom. He accepted them, as his lenses couldn’t focus on the tiny speck. He saw tall, stony towers twisting towards the heavens. Civilization.

As beautiful as he remembered from his childhood. In the sunlight, the buildings looked like glass.

“That’s the capital,” she said, satisfied by his reaction.

“How many days’ walk?” he asked.

“We’ll get to the city before dusk,” she said.

Meeting this Vijan was a stroke of luck, and he’d repay her for it.

“Let’s get going,” he said, and she nodded, leaping to the next tree branch. Stardust sighed and scrabbled along behind her.

It was already dusk when they reached the outskirts of the city. The glow from the buildings was enough to light the streets. They were wide, filled with vehicles. An immense building at the center, surrounded by a grand portico. Soldiers stood guard, and a massive line of people waited to enter.

“Don’t tell me we have to line up,” he said, slumping over.

She grinned. “Relax. Only if you want to see the Royal Protectors.”

“This is a monarchy?”

She nodded. “You aren’t from around here.”

Stardust shook his head. Right, pay her for saving his neck. “What’s your account number?”

The Vijan stared at him, looking for suspicious motives. “Why do you want it?”

“You got me out. Consider this compensation for putting up with me.”

She smiled and gave him her details. He transferred the credits. She grinned before signing, “Never thought I’d make friends with Lebil.”

That might be a stretch. Still, he had to admit it was the easiest experience he’d had dealing with someone. “Nice meeting you,” he said, raising his left fist to the same shoulder and tapping it twice.

The Vijan repeated the gesture. “Likewise.” Stardust watched her go, her gray strands of hair whipping in the wind. He thrived on chaos, but sometimes, he appreciated slowing down.

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Statistics → Word Count: 2,104 | Reading Time: 7:39 mins

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