"Colonist Loo-see Cole-tonn," the computer intones, slurring over the human sounds. "Status: Protected."
The moment the doors open, Lucy rushes inside, a package in her arms. "Good morning, gentlemen," she calls cheerily. "How are you enjoying this fine weather? Isn't it lovely out?"
I sit straighter at my desk, not getting up in case that might alarm her. Before arriving on Risda, we were forced to watch multiple training videos of how to deal with humans, especially ones that had been captives and traumatized. The instructions ring in my head. Move slow. Do not smile and bare teeth. Do not loom over them in a show of dominance. Enunciate when speaking.
"Greetings," I say, very slowly, and nod my head.
Lucy blinks at me, a flash of puzzlement on her expressive face. A moment later, the confusion is gone, replaced by another dazzling smile.
"Morning, Lucy," Khex says, not looking up from his data pad. "How can we help you today?"
"Oh, I don't need any help," Lucy sings out gaily. She bounds over to the low-backed chair in front of my desk and holds out the plas-film-covered bundle in her arms. As she does, the stink of a floral perfume assaults my nostrils. That's another one of the rules—humans disguise their scents and we are never, ever to comment on it, no matter how bad it smells. Maybe it smells good to Lucy, but it's harsh and acrid on my nostrils. She pulls off a layer of plas-film and then beams at me. "I was in town today. Well, I'm in town every day. You know me. I can't sit still at home." She chuckles. "And I thought that I'd bake you two some of my muffins! I tried out the recipe on the girls at the book club last month and they were a hit. The texture's not quite the same as the bread back on Earth, but that's because the flour here isn't made of wheat. Or maybe it is. I don't know much about your cooking here. Just that you guys like noodles." She giggles, shaking her head. "These aren't noodles. They're muffins, if that wasn't obvious. Or…would you guys rather have noodles? I can make you some if you need a good home-made dish, but I'm not all that familiar with mesakkah flavorings, so you'd have to coach me on it."
She pauses, blinking those big, earnest eyes up at me.
Is she…waiting for me to say something? I panic, my ears hot, and shuffle paperwork on my desk. I don't want to tell her that I wasn't listening to a thing she said, that her chatter just blended into nothing but noise as I stared at her. It's shameful, this crush I have on an alien colonist, and something I need to learn to ignore or I'm going to end up terrifying her.
It's just that…Lucy's perfect.
Humans seem to come in a variety of shapes and sizes, but if I was in charge, I'd make them all look like Lucy. She's on the smaller side of humans, height wise, but the rest of her is shapely and full of curves. She has breasts, like so many of her kind do, but Lucy's are rather large and sway when she walks, just like her equally ample hips. Her hands are delicate, even if the number of her fingers are weird, and her hair is a shade of black-brown that's as warm as her personality. Her eyes are an equally bright shade of amber and she has round cheeks and the roundest, cutest nose I've ever seen on another alien.
I think about that nose probably far more than I should. Lucy would be horrified if she knew the things I did to myself while thinking about her nose, and her breasts, and her smile.
"Officer?" she asks politely, gazing at me.
I clear my throat, feeling trapped at my desk. I want to get up and pace…but I also don't want to scare Lucy. I drum my fingers on my desk instead, needing to let out some nervous energy. "That's not my title. I am Custodian Rektar al'Aira'n. If you must call me something, you can call me Custodian."
Her big smile returns, as if she's oblivious to my correcting her. "You know back on Earth, custodians are people that clean lavatories. Calling you ‘officer’ is a habit. I'm sorry if it offends you. I only meant to be…respectful." Her voice drops in a lower note and she toys with the collar of her dress. It's a functional shift dress like most of the ones provided to the humans, made out of cheap material and designed to answer the clothing needs of a population that had nothing to their names, not for attraction. Somewhere along the lines, though, Lucy has modified hers. The cleavage drops deeply, showing the cleft of her chest and a good deal of her very enticing breasts. It's nipped in at the waist, too, showing off rounded hips highlighted by the functional belt she wears. Her hair is pulled up into a knot atop her head, but small tendrils are escaping everywhere, as if her hair is just as impossible to contain as she is, and I wonder what she'd look like with it down.