Silhouette by Arthur McMahon Page B

with X’s data. Slits. That was what she would call the thing that murdered her father. Slits was as good as dead.
    Was it petty? Perhaps, but she needed something to do until the next transfer ship came to take Davi away. No thrills, no frills. She knew that this had to be clean and simple because she was in enemy territory. Blowing her cover and endangering the mission was not an option.
    X placed Slits’ office near the qoot field, whatever that was. Silhouette built a plan and fed Davi once more, telling him that he might miss some of his extra meals over the next several evenings.
    That night Silhouette moved far down to the opposite end of the compound, staying close to the exterior walls. The qoots were locked in their pens for the night. They were large slug-like creatures, bigger than any livestock she had seen before, and their skin was rough and dry, not slimy like she had expected. A slaughterhouse was located near the pens. Was that the meat she had been eating? Gross .
    Just beyond the slaughterhouse was an airfield and Slits had an office overlooking the entire area. Silhouette entered the building, approaching the doorways and stairwells with caution, but there was no one around to see her.
    She sat at the Burmin’s desk and thumbed through some files. Her Ocu translated the few words it knew, but it could not translate enough to help Silhouette make sense of any of the information. The Ocu also could not sync with the data system, so how was she going to gain intel when she could not understand a lick of the language or access the digital data? She decided to fall back and figure out her problem in a safer location.
    Silhouette moved back outside and crawled into the qoot pens where it was cramped, dirty, and full of buggy little critters— but it was safe, probably. The creatures were docile and did not care to stir while she moved around them. She hid and waited until morning for Slits to arrive at work.
    She tracked Slits’ movements throughout the day. Much of the Burmin’s time was spent at its desk, and the rest was used up wandering around the shipping yard and hollering at underlings. It kept to populated spaces, except during its breaks. The Burmin found solitude twice during the day with a smoke in its hand during brief walks in the qoot grazing field. Silhouette had found ample opportunities to strike, but she had to be certain that no one would see her. Patience. She would watch him again tomorrow.
    The work day was over and Silhouette crept back into the office after all of the Burmin had left for the night. She once more flipped through the physical files on Silts’ desk, this time recording images of them with her Ocu. She again retreated to the qoot pens. In her seclusion she was able to take her time scanning through the documents. She could understand the Burmin language better spoken than written, so she had her Ocu read the messages verbally in her mind.
    Words jumped out that she recognized. Slaves, transfer, move, sell, price. She had heard the language all throughout her young life as a slave to the Burmin. Much of it still made no sense, but some of it had been beaten into her. She had to understand basic commands and quantities of things and calendar dates if she expected to survive. Compiling her information with the little bits her Ocu could visually translate was a complicated puzzle and she spent most of the night putting it together. Her empty stomach only made the task more frustrating and difficult.
    As the pieces fell into place, she realized she had found the information she was hoping to discover. The next prisoner transport was scheduled, and she had the date. In three weeks Davi and the others would be taken aboard the Juggernaut where they would be processed and put on transports toward planet Burm. She had the ship’s planned arrival and departure time, as well as its identification number. All she had to do now was wait, but revenge, too, had been put on her