Meme: Claimings Universe (Patreon)

Most of these challenge stories will not be this long. The Claimings muse is just a little demanding.

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The barracks style apartments were tiny; doors to individual units were only eight or ten feet apart at most. However, the place was clean and quiet. Liam had certainly lived in much worse, but he was spoiled by the sense of space and privacy on the Rownt ship. Here the weight of dozens of eyes annoyed him. However, today was Framkie’s day off, and Liam was determined to see him.

He knocked at the unit door. The place must have incredible sound insulation because when Framkie opened the door, a blast of heavy Mongolian rock blasted him. “What?” Framkie demanded, and then his demeanor changed. “Liam! Hey, let me turn this down.” He hit a button and the music vanished and then looked Liam up and down several times. He even stepped back to get a better look. “Holy shit what the fuck happened to you?” Both shock and amusement colored his voice.

“What?” Liam asked with exaggerated innocence, enjoying the look of shock on Framkie's face. It wasn't often that he got to really catch Framkie off guard.

“Don't give me that. What the hell did you do to yourself?” He stepped back.

Liam had to duck to fit through the door, and once inside, he had to stay hunched over to fit under the low ceiling. “I didn't do anything.” He emphasized the pronoun and grinned.

Framkie’s place was small enough that the only window, other than the one in the door, was in the far rear of the unit in the bathroom and modular cabinets covered one wall. By Earth ship standards it was a palace, but Liam had gotten spoiled.

Framkie dropped into a chair. “Knock it off with the sarcasm. Your turtle has turned you into a freak of nature. What the hell were you thinking?”

Tickle of aggravation crept into Liam's soul. “I am not a freak.”

Framkie sighed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “No, you aren't,” he said seriously. “However, you sure as hell look like one. There are days I cannot figure out what you have in your head. Why are you 8 feet tall?”

Liam sat in the only other chair. “Closer to seven.”

“Not the point.”

“I know.” Liam huffed. He would miss annoying Framkie. The others were good guys and Liam appreciated everything they’d done for him at Landing. Without them, he would have been one more body in the recovery zone. But Framkie had organized that. Framkie had spoken up for a kid who had made more mistakes than any human being should make in a century. “An alien species called the Imshee maximized my genetics. They were trying to help me be a better match for Ondry.”

“Well, they did accomplish that,” Framkie said with a sigh. “So what's up? Where’s your entourage?

“All the Rownt have gone back to the ship. I just didn't want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Framkie’s smile was easy and avuncular. “Hopefully you’ll be back around this way soon. I kinda like this new you—confident, sticking it to the officers, saying what you think. It's a good look for you.” He frowned. “Except for the extra height. That's just freaky.”

Liam ran his fingers over his knees, which were almost comically jutting up into the air. There was something very symbolic about the fact that Rownt furniture was more comfortable than the human versions. “Unfortunately, I don't think we’re going to be back anytime soon. I'll still be on the soc nets, but I'm not sure we are going to see each other again.” While he was tempted, he didn't tell Framkie that by the time Liam came back, Framkie's grandchildren might be old. It was weird to think that Liam was going to outlive everything on this planet. He was going to outlive his siblings and his siblings’, children, and possibly his siblings’ grandchildren.

“What are you talking about?”

“The Grandmothers have figured out that the protesters at the spaceport are afraid the officers are moving too fast with the Rownt and that there will be another disaster like with the Anla.”

Framkie snorted. “I'm not entirely convinced the protesters are wrong. I just hope if something does blow up that you keep on that side. Far, far, far on that side.” 

Liam smiled. Even after all this time, Framkie was still trying to keep him safe. It made Liam think that if he was a human version of a palteia, that Framkie might be a human version of a chilta. If they been sexually compatible, maybe Liam would've found happiness with Framkie. It was a weird thought because back when Liam been at the front, he hadn't even noticed that there were good people who would protect him so steadfastly. Somehow he had gotten the impression that anyone who would offer long-term protection would demand sex.

“The Grandmothers would say you were wise for thinking as much,” Liam said.

“I don't know what to think of those Grandmothers. I never thought I would be afraid of a giant grandmother turtle, but they're terrifying.”

“They are a little bit,” Liam admitted. As much as Liam felt physically safe, the idea of disappointing a Grandmother twisted a part of his soul he hadn’t known existed. “They’re old, and that means they understand things. Right now they understand that being here is frightening good people, and they can't make any reassurances because they don't know where this relationship between Rownt and human is going.” Liam hoped the two species would be allies for as long as any of them lived, but he wasn’t naïve enough to believe his hopes could influence the universe.

“Wait. Are you leaving and not coming back? Ever?” Framkie sat up, his expression alarmed.

“We’ll still trade with humans and bring trade goods to the orbital stations, but the Grandmothers think that Earth needs time to heal from the tragedy with the Anla from the war with the colonies. And I can't disagree with them.” Liam shrugged.

For long seconds, they stared at each other, Framkie’s frown deepening. “Well, shit. I was just getting used to the idea that you might be around every once in a while.”

Liam shrugged. “I was starting to get used to that idea myself.”

Framkie stood and held his hand out. Liam thought he wanted to shake so he returned the gesture. However Framkie pulled him into a fast, hard hug. “Don't you let anyone give you shit. You're a good man, Liam Munson, even if you are a freak with an officer's commission.”

Liam hugged him back equally hard. “And you are good man. Even if you talk like an asshole. Find someone that you can take care of.”

Framkie released his hold. “I'm too old for that. I've lost too many people I tried to take care of. It never ends well for me.”

Liam stepped back. “It didn't work well for me until I found the right person. Don't stop looking for your right person.”

Framkie's expression was stuck somewhere between a grin and a grimace. Liam couldn’t even hope to interpret what it meant and suddenly he felt this void between him and humans even more intensely.

“I guess I should be thankful I got to see you again. When you went off of the shuttle after you passed your language test, I thought that would be the end of it. It's good to see how far you got with that training of yours.” He shook his head and half turned away. “I hate this goodbye shit. So you let me know what you're up to on the soc nets. Or I might have to track you down.”

Liam smiled and thought about the drama that would cause with the Rownt. They had come to the conclusion that human palteia always had a weird lingering attachment to those they used to serve, so maybe they would put Framkie in the same category on the chilta side. They would theorize about some lingering sense of responsibility would send him out into space to check on a man he had once cared for. The Grandmothers would probably be amused, and they would definitely be impressed by a chilta like Framkie. 

“Take care of yourself.” Liam turned and headed for the doorway. He had never known how to say goodbye before the Rownt, and after living with a species that had no ceremony for letting go outside a formal transition at the temple, Liam didn't know how to. 

He walked out the door.