I Don't Speak Chondrich.

Tag along with the team, he said. You’ll be in good hands, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. Well, I guess my boss and I imagine very different things when we think of the word “fun”.

I, for one, envision myself in my quarters on the ship, the window presenting a clear view of the shimmering sea of stars and planets just outside. Working on my next research report under a heated blanket, occasionally opening my mouth to catch one of the many flavored bubbles that I have floating around the room- the machine is set to hot-cocoa, obviously.

But apparently, my boss envisions himself touching down on a freezing hunk of rock, surrounded by licensed adrenaline junkies who can’t wait to jump headfirst into an unexplored alien temple. Then watching said junkies die in said temple, in an encounter with a massive monster. And finally, being left for dead- only to come face to face with, of all things, a soldier from the army of our greatest enemy in the galaxy.

Or at least that’s my best guess, as I stand frozen in place, my two wide eyes locked with its three pairs of narrowed ones.

My grip tightens around the sphere in my hand. One half of my brain desperately wants to push the button on it and lob it straight at the soldier’s face. Sure, it’s only a distress beacon, but that could look a lot like a grenade to someone who has probably never even seen a human cellphone before.

Meanwhile, the rational half of my brain assures me that no move I make could be faster than one of the soldier’s six hands reaching down to the blaster on its hip, and promptly turning me into a space-doughnut.

So instead, I do the only logical thing I can think of: very slowly, I lift both hands into the air and sink to my knees. One of the soldier’s mouths forms a snarl, baring several rows of shark-like teeth, and one of its hands drifts towards its weapon.

I can feel the beads of sweat carving their way through the dry skin on my face. The moisture from my rapid breaths is fogging up my helmet’s visor. As my knees finally touch the floor, I say a silent prayer that the soldier’s planet doesn’t have a completely different signal for surrender.

Then, we’re back to square one. The soldier’s hand has stopped moving towards the blaster, but hasn’t pulled away from it either. With nothing else to try, I clear my throat.

“Hello. I’m Elise. I am not a soldier, and I mean you no harm.”

Its wrinkled grey skin tightens around its mouths as it frowns.

I hadn’t thought to bring my translator- this temple was supposed to be deserted. And even if it wasn’t, this planet is in neutral space- no soldiers are even supposed to be here. I gulp, hoping against all hope that I managed to bump into one of the few Elasmonites in their army that could speak English.

Then it opens one of its mouths, and emits a series of gurgled growling noises.

Dang it.

“I DON’T. SPEAK. CHONDRICH.” I say as loudly and clearly as I can.

Uh oh. Too loudly.

It snarls again, hand closing around its weapon.

My heart leaps about ten feet out of my chest, and I’m tempted to dive towards the nearest boulder for cover. But once again, the rational half of my brain helpfully reminds me that I am not faster than a laser beam.

Then, before either of us can do anything else, a roar rings out across the dark chamber.

We both turn towards the source of the sound, and my heart drops. It’s the same ugly, scaly, tentacled monster that wiped out my team.

Its pale-yellow appendages begin to grapple around the walls and pillars around us, pulling it closer. In the middle of what I’m generously calling a face, a giant pair of mandibles chitter and snap excitedly, spewing flecks of neon-green spit everywhere.

Then, a burst of piercing red light slices through one of the tentacles, causing the monster to emit a horrible shriek.

My eyes snap to the soldier, whose pistol-like blaster is still hanging at his side. Instead, he uses three arms to hold a pretty mean looking laser rifle, with which he takes aim at another tentacle and fires.

The monster screams, then hurls its remaining tentacles at the ceiling. It grabs hold of several pillars and arches, and the room shakes as it starts to pull. Rocks and dust shower down from the ceiling.

I wouldn’t have known what it was doing, if this hadn’t been exactly how my crewmates had all died in the first place.

“It wants to crush us!” I scream, “It’s causing a cave-in!”

The soldier doesn’t turn my way. Instead, he trains the muzzle of the rifle right in between the monster’s mandibles, and fires three steady shots.

The thing explodes. Flies apart in a burst of sickly green liquid and tentacles.

After a quick check to be sure that none of the squid-monster goop got on my suit, I turn to stare at the soldier and his rifle, unable to help but wonder how much differently this day would have gone if I owned a weapon like that.

But a sound interrupts my train of thought, and makes my heart sink into my stomach.

The archway above us is cracking.

My legs are moving, arms outstretched, prepared to shove the soldier out of the way.

Then it roars, aiming its rifle at my head.

I trip just as the shot is fired. Searing pain explodes across my left shoulder.

The archway hits the ground, which then gives way.

Then I’m falling.

---

I hear myself moan before my eyes open. The flickering of a probably broken flashlight from my bag barely illuminates the rubble-filled chamber that I’m lying in.

I’m alive? I’m alive!

Ow… I’m alive.

I dare to take a glance at my shoulder. The sight of fabric melted to skin makes me immediately nauseous. The beam seems to have only grazed me- thus why I still have an arm. But the pain is so bad that I have to grit my teeth to keep from crying out.

I use the dim light to navigate past chunks of degree as I crawl towards my bag. Surely I remembered to pack salve, or burn cream, or something useful.

Then I freeze.

My eyes widen as I stare into the three pairs staring right back.

The head of the Elasmonite soldier is the only part of it I can see- the rest of it is buried under the broken archway. Its face is tight with pain as it tries to push itself up. Then it stops, the gills on its neck flaring rapidly as it tries to… I don’t know, catch its breath?

Then, clearly out of ideas, the soldier looks up at me.

The pain of the burn on my shoulder hits me with full force, making me bite my lip.

“What, now you want my help?”

The soldier blinks. I roll my eyes and point to the burn.

“And why should I help you? The last time I tried, you thanked me by almost zapping my arm off!”

The soldier looks at my arm, and I swear it almost seems to wince.

“Forget it,” I say with all the malice I can infuse into my voice. “If I free you, you’ll just kill me anyway right? After all, your people are enemies with my entire race.”

I turn around before I can catch the confused look on its face. This would be a lot more cathartic if it could actually understand what I was saying.

I crawl over to my pack. Ignoring the soldier’s gurgled, pleading groans, as well as my screaming shoulder, I begin to dig through my bag. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I discover a ruptured tube of burn cream, the contents of which did their best to cover every inch of my food rations.

Fantastic.

Then a silver gleam catches my eye.

I turn away from my pack, and see a necklace that I know for sure isn’t mine.

When I reach for it, a fresh round of snarls bursts from where the soldier lay trapped in its mountain of rubble. I look over and see, somehow, a mixture of fury and desperation on its face.

I give him the most vile sneer I can muster, before plucking the necklace from its spot on the ground.

It's like a metal shark tooth on a chain. Only flat, and big enough to cover my palm, with two buttons sitting vertically on its surface.

It’s a radio, right? A way to signal the soldier’s squadron. It has to be, seeing as it was important enough to bring to a place like this. As much as I hate the idea of having to escape a whole group of these guys, any option is a good one with limited oxygen and no supplies left.

I take the necklace over to the soldier.

“Go ahead then, do your thing. Call as many guys as you can.”

But when I press the top-most button, the soldier doesn’t speak. Its face forms a sort of grimace, and it struggles harder than ever to free itself as the necklace starts to play a sound.

It’s a string of gurgled growls. Like the soldier’s voice, but much lighter, and somehow more gentle. The pauses and breaths give me the funny impression that I’m listening to a voicemail.

I gasp at the sight of tears forming in each of the soldier’s eyes. By the time the sounds stop, the soldier isn’t struggling anymore.

I look down at the device in my hands, realization slowly dawning on me.

I press the second button.

The sounds this time are even lighter. A series of squeaks and warbles, chirps and cries.

They’re random and scattered, like whatever is they’re coming from can’t really decide what sounds it wants to make.

Kind of like baby noises.

The tears flow freely from the soldier’s eyes now. His mouths begin to mutter and groan.

Everything clicks into place.

I set the pendant down as gently as I can, then remove my locket and pop it open.

Inside lies the last birthday gift I’d received while on Earth. It’s a holographic selfie of my fiancé and I, from the last trip we took together before I left to become a researcher. We were on a boardwalk. We’d both gotten ice cream, and couldn’t decide which was funnier: the mint chip mustache above my lips, or the trail of strawberry dribbling down his chin.

It was Colby who told me I could do this. Colby, who fought off every doubt I had about myself, encouraged me that I could follow my dream.

“First woman to make lead researcher of the planet P2-F50 project. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

I laughed then. But those words… His voice… They've stuck with me, given me the strength to keep going through these long years.

I close the locket and loop it around my neck, then look down at the shark tooth pendant again. Filled with the voices of this soldier’s loved ones. The voices that give him strength.

Then I’m moving.

My shoulder is raging against my every move, but I don’t care. Tears form in my own eyes now. My breaths make it nearly impossible to see through my visor, so I feel for each rock as I lift and throw them aside.

I’m not sure I’m making any progress, until the pile of debris suddenly begins to shift.

I leap to the side just in time for the soldier to leap out from under the rubble, which then crashes down in an eruption of dust.

I blink, and then pain slams into the back of my head as I’m pinned to the ground.

The soldier has one hand around my throat, the other gripping his laser pistol, and yet another clutching the shark tooth pendant.

Or at least, that’s what I think is happening. The stars and tears in my eyes have turned everything into blurred shapes.

The muzzle of the pistol begins to glow a fierce red, as the soldier charges to take a shot.

“Please… Please don’t…”

My voice comes out as a strangled whisper. The air begins to hum with the energy gathering in the weapon.

Then, in an agonizingly slow movement, I reach for my locket and pop it open.

The soldier flinches. His trigger finger twitches.

But he doesn’t fire. Yet.

Instead, his eyes narrow as he examines the photo of me and Colby.

I close my eyes. What if pictures have no meaning to his species?

Heart pounding, barely able to breathe, I know I should be thinking of a million other things. My career I’ll never finish. My family I’ll never see again. My Colby.

But, in this moment, all I can think of is one burning question:

Has this soldier ever taken his family out to get ice cream?

Do they even have ice cream on his planet?

Crap. That’s two questions.

Tears forcing their way through eyelids squeezed shut, I empty my mind and wait for the pain of death.

It doesn’t come.

The hand around my throat seems to vanish. I greedily gulp down air in between rasping coughs as the hum of the laser pistol dies away.

I open my eyes, but don’t dare to move an inch, as the soldier holsters his pistol and starts to stand. Then, after some thought, he bends down and reaches a hand downwards.

I flinch, a pathetic yelp forcing its way out of me. But when I dare to look at the hand, I see that he’s offering to help me up.

I put my gloved hand into his undoubtedly rough and scaly one. He pulls me up gently, but with seemingly zero effort.

This close, I have to strain my neck to meet his eyes. My mouth opens, but he moves first, lifting one of his right hands and cradling his pendant. With another, he points to my locket. All three of his mouths curve to form what might be his best attempt at an empathetic smile.

It looks, well, horrifying, but I smile back all the same.

“Well then, big guy, I don’t suppose you know a way out of here?”

I gesture to the hole in the ceiling, and before I can think better of it, give him a light pat on one of his arms.

He jerks the arm away, and his face falls into a look that says, Don’t push it, better than words ever could.

He then gestures to my bag, then waves a hand towards him.

I grit my teeth against the pain that bites into my shoulder as I scurry over to collect my bag. Oh, and that flashlight, which still hasn’t died by the way. Mental note: Find out what brand it is, and buy all of them.

By the time I’m done, the soldier has already made it to the far wall. When he sees me coming, grips the cracks in it with two pairs of hands, and extends the last pair behind him. Having been ready to leave this horrible crypt since I got here, I stride over and let him pick me up. Then, we begin the climb.

As it turns out, having three pairs of arms and inhuman strength makes climbing stupidly easy. We’re out of the hole and into the main chamber in seconds.

The second I’m back on my feet, the soldier whips his head around him, scanning the ground. My pulse quickens, as I imagine the squid-monster appearing from the rubble, but then both the soldier and I lock eyes onto what he’s looking for. The rifle, of course.

He picks it up and slings onto his back, then turns to look at me.

I give him another smile, but his eyes have drifted to the burn on my shoulder. He then reaches into a pouch on a belt that I hadn’t noticed he was wearing.

He walks over to me, and pulls out two round objects.

The first one makes my heart leap for joy like it hasn’t in what feels like years. My distress beacon!

I don’t remember him picking it up, but I don’t care. I pluck it from his hand and clutch it against my chest like it’s a large and shimmering diamond.

Then I see the other round thing. A smooth glass orb, filled with some sort of blue cream.

The soldier squeezes the orb like it’s made of rubber, and a dollop of cream drips onto his finger. He then rubs it on one his left shoulders, and hands the orb to me.

Once again, I have nothing to say or do to repay his kindness. But that doesn’t stop me from trying. I take the orb, and grateful that no one is here to see how stupid I look, I lower myself into a bow.

When I lift my head, the soldier’s features are twisted in a look of bewilderment. So yeah, that didn’t work.

I sigh, then give him the most earnest smile I can.

“Thanks. For everything.”

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t need to. He simply nods, then turns away to walk out of the temple, and into the frigid, horrible air of planet P2-F50.