One bright day in the near future, Earth sits quietly on the far-flung fringes of the galactic map, blissfully unaware that life exists beyond its atmosphere—until, quite unexpectedly, someone notices.
That “someone” happens to be a group of Zelurians, sleek, glassy-skinned beings who view the universe as a particularly fascinating puzzle in need of cataloging. During one of their leisurely outer-rim surveys, they stumble upon Earth, intrigued by the general human enthusiasm for innovation, creativity, and the regular misplacement of car keys.
The Zelurians see humanity as a promising species—brimming with potential, full of ideas, but rather tragically stuck on their own planet. So, with that signature Zelurian mix of goodwill and strategic meddling, they decide to help. They hand over a bit of their technology to Earth, specifically the kind that allows ships to hop between stars with ease.
Now, Earth engineers are an industrious bunch, and they quickly get to work replicating this tech. But as usual, they hit a few snags. First, the materials required to build stable star drives cost a small fortune and are not what you’d call “widely available.” Second, and perhaps more concerning, the effect of long-distance interstellar travel on the average human is… unpleasant. At best, it involves nausea and disorientation; at worst, it results in death by spontaneous implosion. Small wonder, then, that the ticket to the stars is a bit out of reach for most humans.
But a few adventurous souls take matters into their own hands. Refusing to let minor issues like “reliable technology” and “bodily integrity” get in the way, they adopt a Radio Shack approach to spaceship engineering. Makeshift vessels are built, shoestring budgets are stretched, and entire families hurl themselves into the unknown in the hopes of planting a flag on some distant world “where no human has gone before.”
Some succeed. Many fail. And some, like Aliki Martin’s family, find themselves stranded on strange new worlds that turn out to be rather less hospitable than anticipated.
Fortunately, help exists, in the form of the Humane Interplanetary Society (HIS), a galactic nonprofit with a mission to rescue stranded travelers of all species. For the Martin family, though, HIS’s intervention comes a bit too late. By the time they arrive, Aliki’s parents have become unfortunate footnotes in galactic history, and Aliki herself—a bewildered two-year-old—is taken into protective custody and put up for adoption.
Aliki’s Otharian Family and the Return to Earth
In her journal, Aliki writes, “The Otharians, whose family name was something close to ‘Huxur,’ were the only family I ever knew. They called me ‘Huxur-grat,’ which roughly means ‘ward of the Huxur family,’ but they never pretended I was anything but human.”
The Otharians—big, furry, and rather thoughtful herbivores—are known throughout the galaxy as diplomats and peacekeepers, and they take Aliki in as one of their own. Well, sort of. She’s adopted as a companion for their daughter, Mishu, a role that might be best described as “a cross between a sibling and an exotic pet.”
But her adoptive parents, Khiettay and Sowl, are caring, respectable sorts, dedicated to their work of interstellar diplomacy. Aliki grows up surrounded by a quiet, steady warmth that’s perhaps the closest an Otharian family can come to affection. She’s loved and respected, though her tendency to need “human things” is often regarded with a sort of bemused tolerance.
As the years go by, Mishu comes of age and leaves for university. Soon after, Khiettay and Sowl take up a diplomatic post on a distant, mildly war-torn planet. Rather than leave Aliki behind at an empty Otharian estate, they decide it’s time for her to reconnect with her own species. So, she’s sent to Sanctum Station, where the Humane Interplanetary Society’s “rehabilitation program” awaits. Think of it as Earth 101, but without the field trips or a particularly deep understanding of human culture.
A Fresh Start on Earth—with a Few Complications
Returning to Earth isn’t as simple as hopping on a ship. Aliki needs a job and a sponsor if she’s going to make a go of it. Enter Sufsa-Guuz, a Tyrok businessman and longtime HIS patron who has realized that rehabilitated humans make surprisingly reliable employees.
Sufsa has an empty manager’s position at one of his used spaceship dealerships on Earth and Aliki is offered the position. She takes the job, not because she’s passionate about used starships, but because, well, it’s the only option available.
With a crash course in business management and a vague understanding of Earth customs, Aliki is shipped off to start her new life. But her fresh start turns out to be a bit bumpier than expected.
For one, there’s Emmett, her droid assistant. His official designation, M8-OBN, sounded just enough like “Emmett O’Bean” that a bored programmer somewhere gave him a thick Irish accent and the personality of an incorrigible pub regular. Emmett’s good at his job and loyal to a fault, but his wit and occasional cheek aren’t quite what Aliki had in mind for an assistant.
Then there’s the inventory—or rather, the lack of it. The dealership is practically empty, and Aliki is under pressure to stock up before her first meeting with Sufsa, whom she’s keen to impress, if only to avoid any immediate termination processes.
To make things worse, the power keeps going out at random intervals, leaving her fumbling to keep the lights on and the systems running. By day three, she’s beginning to suspect that the universe is laughing at her.
Then disaster strikes. Spoiler alert: In a test-drive of the only ship she’s managed to secure, Sufsa crashes straight into the storage hangar, turning her already tenuous grasp on her new life into a catastrophe. Now Aliki’s not just dealing with alien bureaucracy and broken inventory systems; she’s trying to clear her name and prove that she did not, in fact, commit murder.
Aliki’s story is just beginning, and I’m excited to share it with you—one unexpected twist at a time.
