Someone hears her. 

They're a patrol ship on the lookout for problems planet-side, not suddenly appearing civilians in space. And they don't speak the language. It's - probably a trap by the Enemy. Most things are probably a trap by the Enemy. But they call it in, and - 

"Bring it in."

       "Just because you don't recognize the language? With all due respect -"

"Did I say that was my reason?"

       "I know that was your reason, sir, you were looking inclined to leave it until I mentioned -"

"Do you argue all your orders? Bring it in."

Ohhh man that's a ship. Definitely not the support ship. Maybe not even an Alteri ship, she doesn't recognize the design, though it's possible some other house is experimenting with designs she hasn't seen. There's only one other group she knows of that builds its own starships. She is going to be in so much trouble when the Alteri figure out how to follow her through the gate. They're probably gonna think she was collaborating with the Carthons somehow. Maybe she'll get lucky, and someone will panic and hit her kill switch before they can recapture her?

Ugh, that's a terrible line of thought. She bites her lip. If they're going to kill her for desertion anyway, she should at least go through the effort of actually trying to desert. 

She waits for the ship.

It's a big ship, and doesn't look entirely equipped for rescue of single lost workers; this'll go faster if she can manuever to its airlock herself. They tell her that, but in a language that won't be at all familiar.

She does not understand the language, but she sees the airlock and connects the dots. Her suit doesn't have much fuel and the thrusters aren't great for maneuverability, but she's a professional. Or would be, if Liars could be professionals.

She propels herself toward the airlock.

They'll let her in. It's a big airlock. Maybe these aliens are really really large or something. It's also a pretty airlock, if she notices that kind of thing.

She notices! She is not used to pretty airlocks. She's not really used to pretty anything. It's really weirdly big, maybe she's misremembering how big Carthons are.

"Hello?"

There are a lot of things she could try saying, but she can't immediately think of any that will be received well regardless of whether this is a Carthon ship or a really weirdly big Alteri ship, so sticking to "hello" is probably safer.

The external door closes. The internal one doesn't open. They ask a question in seven different languages she doesn't speak.

She spreads her open palms and hopes they recognize it as a sign for lack of understanding. Clearly they don't speak Etra La - which is weird, that should be one of the first languages they'd think to try, whether the ship is Carthon or Alteri. She tries the hand signs associated with Confederate One, then tries the language of her home colony, without expecting it to work. A few words of English, though she doesn't actually know enough to communicate if they did happen to recognize it.

Nope. 

There's a pause and then the door opens. 

They're not Alteri or Carthons. They're - much more like Liars than either of those but not all that much like Liars - taller, their faces sculpted just a little differently, and armed and in uniform. 

Oh man. OK. Probably an Alteri ship if they have Liars with them, assuming these are Liars. Sometimes they breed special populations that are supposed to be good at particular things, maybe this is one of those situations. Maybe there is some perfectly good explanation for why they don't recognize Confederate One, even though literally everyone recognizes Confederate One. 

She keeps her hands open and doesn't move, because she really really doesn't want to do anything to make them think she's going to be anything other than entirely cooperative.

They look nervous, annoyed, suspicious. 

They search her. 

Someone hands her a piece of ribbon and indicates that she should tie up her hair.

She has a handful of repair tools tied to the outside of her suit, and doesn't object to them being taken. There's nothing but a thin layer of regulation clothing inside, with the House Tellari seal stamped onto the front of her shirt. There's a thin scar on the back of her neck that suggests a previous surgical incision.

She ties up her hair. Tries to look less afraid than she is, only partially succeeds. At least nobody's paralyzing her, that's either pretty decent of them or a sign that they can't do that. Good news either way.

They lead her out of the airlock. 

The ship is built around an enormous courtyard with climbing vines and leafy trees and a harp in the center which someone is playing. There are enclosed rooms around the courtyard; they all have balconies. She can see maybe fifty people. All of this variant of Liars, if that's indeed what they are, and all in uniform. 

They take her to a quiet conference room with one wall partially open to the courtyard and the other with a view of the stars.

OK, that's weird. Nobody lives like this. Maybe someone lives like this on Earth, but not anywhere else, and definitely not in space. Except for these people, apparently. 

She really wants to pace around the room, but really doesn't want to look like she's likely to be restless or impulsive or in any way a problem.

She sticks to staring at the courtyard.

One of them sits down at the table and smiles at her. It's not the friendliest smile in the world but it's definitely intended as a smile.

"Ettelië," he says, gesturing at himself.

She sits down across from him, folding her hands in her lap. She tries smiling, but she can't keep it up, so she just bows her head and tries to look inoffensive.

"Ettelie," she repeats, wincing at her own mispronunciation. It doesn't sound like a number, but then there are probably houses that don't use numbers. She considers giving him her name, but that feels way too informal for whatever's happening. She indicates herself. "Nine-seven-eight-one-six Tellari."

"Nine seven eight one six Tellari," he echoes. His pronunciation is better. He pulls out - a few trinkets, apparently. A touchscreen stylus and a ring and a ribbon. He names those, too.

She repeats the words. She tries her best to match his pronunciation, but she isn't great at it. She's better at remembering the words, mouthing each a few times in an effort to get it to stick.

He wants her word for the trinkets, too. He wants to count to twelve. He hands her the objects and requests them back and wants her to do the same.

It hadn't really occurred to her that these people would be interested in learning Etra La. Alteri rarely bother. It takes her a second to realize, and she reflexively apologizes when she does. She is beginning to suspect that there are maybe not any Alteri around, in which case what the hell, and in which case she really needs to learn how to talk as soon as possible.

She cooperates as far as she's able.

He's pleased with that. More things to name, more complicated formulations - "these ones are mine, these ones are yours", "put these ones over there" - and eventually he pulls out a tablet computer with pictures of lots of things to name, and names them all in his own language.

She does her best. She can't remember everything in one go - her memory is good, but not ridiculously good - and at times she's frustrated by the amount of repetition she needs, even though she's concentrating her hardest and picking things up relatively quickly. She helpfully offers her own words for everything, sometimes biting her lip and thinking for a moment before giving her best approximation. 

Ves would be so much better at this. She doesn't want to wish that Ves were here, because the important thing is that Ves is in the Sol system where it's safe, but it would still be super convenient if Ves were here.

He doesn't seem particularly impatient or frustrated. Though his memory does in fact seem to be perfect, or nearly so. After they've been at it for a few hours someone brings food. It's not familiar but it smells good.

She asks if she's allowed to eat the food. Really hopes she's getting the grammar right.