Treyvon (Kaliszian)

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Treyvon (Kaliszian) Page 5

by M. K. Eidem


  "I… didn't Mac tell you that? I know Craig did."

  "I want to hear it from you, as the others have never given me truth."

  "They didn't lie," Jen automatically defended her friends. "They just didn't tell you everything. There's a difference."

  "No, there is not. Truth is truth, and you will tell me yours. All of it."

  "We were taken from Earth by the Ganglians and brought to this planet as slave labor for the Zaludians."

  "How is it the Ganglians did not know you were female?" he demanded because looking at her, even injured, he knew he would never mistake her for a male.

  "We were all dressed the same. We all had camouflage paint on our faces, and I'd also put it in my hair, so I didn't stand out."

  "Why would you do this?" Treyvon frowned, looking at the white color of her hair. It was the same as the mustela, a highly sought after creature from the planet Krat, desired for its thick, silky fur. He'd allowed his fingers to touch it while she was still unconscious, during one of those sleepless nights, and it had felt amazing. A Kaliszian female would never hide it, for they were always looking for a way to stand out.

  "It was a stupid game." Jen rubbed her fingers on her forehead. "They called it 'Weekend Warriors.' You dress up and pretend you're in battle and try to take the other team out." She saw the General frown. "It was supposed to be fun."

  "Battle is not fun," Treyvon murmured.

  "I agree. But it is because of that the Ganglians assumed we were all males."

  "That was fortunate for you and Mackenzie, because the Ganglians…" he trailed off.

  "I know what the Ganglians do to females," Jen interrupted angrily.

  Treyvon's expression revealed none of his relief that she had not had to suffer that along with everything else and ordered, "Continue."

  "When we arrived, the Zaludians split us up into two groups and immediately sent one to work in the mines and the other they led to a cave."

  "You were kept separate from the other species?"

  "Yes. I don't know why, but they seemed to do that with all the species."

  "They do it to control you. Knowing that if the Zaludians threatened one of your kind, you react differently than to one you don't know."

  "Oh." Jen thought about that and realized it was true.

  "You were able to do the work they demanded?" Treyvon found that hard to believe. This female was tiny, slender even. There was no way she would have lasted long in the mines.

  "Hell no," was her instant response. "Mac and I tried, but after the first shift, we all realized it was impossible. We also saw what happened to those that couldn't do what the Zaludians demanded of them."

  "They ended them," Treyvon told her bluntly.

  "Yes," Jen shuddered, remembering the horror of watching one of the Jerboaians they had arrived with being beaten to death in front of them. The spikes, embedded into the gloves the Zaludians wore, had shredded the poor creature. "That's when the guys decided that one of them would always take either Mac's or my shift."

  Treyvon had known this, and he grudgingly felt his respect for the small males grow. For them to voluntarily work two shifts in a row…

  "Mac found a narrow crevice in the back of our cave," she answered the question she knew he would be asking next. "It opened up into an even smaller cave. We would hide there whenever we knew the Zaludians were coming."

  "And the Zaludians never noticed?"

  "They only counted the ones they took; never the ones left behind."

  "And when they weren't there?"

  "Mac and I would do what we could for the guys. Treat any injuries. Make sure they ate. Mac had first aid training, so she took care of any injuries while I tried to make what food they gave us enough to sustain everyone."

  "I find that difficult to believe. The Zaludians aren't known for giving much to their slaves."

  "They didn't. But once, while I was cooking, one of those feathery looking things that grow on the ceiling fell into the food I was preparing."

  "Feathery?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together. "You mean the luciferins?"

  "If that's what you call the things on the ceiling that give off the light, then yes. It fell into the pot like I said, and before I could fish it out it dissolved. Since I couldn't throw the food out, I had to hope it wasn't deadly, and served it to the guys."

  "What happened?" he found himself asking.

  "Nothing seemed to, at first. But as the guys ate, they started to feel full. Something none of us had experienced in a long time.”

  "What do you mean they ate? You did not?"

  "Mac and I always waited until the guys finished." She shrugged her shoulders. "After all, they were the ones doing all the work."

  Treyvon knew his expression didn't change, but he was stunned. Females never ate last. Kaliszian females chose the male they would Join with by the quality and quantity of food a Warrior could provide her. They always received the choicest selection of the food and ate first. Yet, this female was saying they willingly ate the scraps. Why?

  "After that, I made a point of looking for the… luciferins on the floor," she continued, not realizing she had stunned the General. "It made the food go farther and seemed to help the guys heal faster."

  "I see." Treyvon had never heard of such a thing being done before and knew it was something he needed to investigate. But right now, he needed to know how they were able to deceive his Warriors and circumvent his security.

  "How were you able to get inside this compound without anyone noticing you were female?"

  "It wasn't that hard," she told him. "When you first arrived, you were more concerned about the Zaludians than the survivors. Well, all except for Mac. You moved us as one large group to your transport. It wasn't until we arrived here that you separated us by species and counted any of us."

  "And we counted ten of you."

  "Only because Mac wasn't there," she informed him. "The Warrior didn't know Mac was one of us since she was in your Medical area. Once she arrived, we just made sure one of us was always missing during the count."

  "And none of my Warriors noticed?" Treyvon watched as she just shrugged her shoulders and knew he would be having a long conversation with his Warriors. Just because a species appeared smaller and weaker than they were, didn't mean they weren't a threat. Especially a previously unknown species such as these humans were.

  "Why would they? The numbers matched," she said shrugging her shoulders.

  "Because it is what they are trained to do."

  "I see." But Jen didn't. She'd never been in the military.

  "So if you were always hidden, how did you become injured? How were the Zaludians able to discover Mackenzie was female?" He watched Jennifer's knuckles turn white as she gripped the arms of the chair. He didn't need to be a General to know she didn't want to tell him, that it was painful, but he needed to know.

  "Ashe Mackenzie first," he murmured, allowing her some time before she told him her story.

  "One of the guys had a deep gash on his leg." While Jen's fingers relaxed slightly on the chair, they remained white. "We'd been using strips of our clothing to bandage the wounds, so they were pretty much in tatters. A Zaludian walked in unexpectedly, and Mac didn't have time to hide. He could easily tell she was female."

  "Why didn't she run for safety? To this crevice?"

  "Because I was there, and by then I was already injured. Mac knew what the Zaludians would do if they found me."

  "They would end you."

  "Yes."

  "So Ashe Mackenzie sacrificed herself… for you."

  "Yes."

  "How were you injured, Jennifer?" he asked in a low voice.

  "There were originally twelve of us. Did anyone tell you that?" she asked instead of directly answering his question and could see by his expression that no one had.

  "No," he confirmed.

  "Well, there were. The twelfth was my husband, Todd."

  "Husband...”
/>   "I believe your term is Dasho."

  "Your Dasho was with you when the Ganglians took you?"

  "Yes."

  "And he died," Treyvon murmured.

  "He was murdered!" she immediately fired back, her eyes flashing at him.

  The venom in her voice surprised him, but he didn't let it stop his questions. He needed this information. "He had become injured?"

  "No."

  Suddenly, the anger that had filled her seemed to disappear, and she slumped back in her chair.

  "I don't know how long we'd been there, but the guys’ clothes were starting to wear out, getting tears and holes in them. When we'd been back on Earth playing that stupid game, Todd had insisted we take off our wedding rings."

  "Wedding rings?" Treyvon questioned the words, and Jen frowned trying to figure out how to explain it.

  "On Earth, when couples commit themselves to each other… mate… many of us exchange rings. Bands of metal that are worn around a finger." Jen held up her left hand and touched the spot on her ring finger where hers used to be. "It’s an outward sign, so others know you are married, mated."

  Jen waited for the General to nod his understanding before continuing.

  "My ring had diamonds in the band, and Todd worried the sun would reflect off them and give away our location. So he had me take mine off, and he put both of them on a chain that he wore around his neck. When he saw the Ganglians rip something off one of the Jerboaians, he hid the chain in his pocket."

  "And the Zaludians discovered it." He didn't say it as a question.

  "Yes. Part of the chain slipped out of a hole, and Todd didn't realize it. The Zaludian saw it, but Todd refused to give it up." Jen's throat tightened as she remembered. She'd loved those rings, but not more than she’d loved Todd. Why hadn't he just given them to the bastard? If he had, they'd still be together. "The Zaludian started beating him with those gloves and...”

  "And?"

  "And I couldn't take it. Mac tried to hold me back, but I burst out of our hiding spot and jumped on the Zaludian’s back. He hit me." She touched the remnants of the scars that still ran down her face. "It must have knocked me out for a moment because when I came to, the bastard had the chain around his neck and was dragging Todd out by a foot."

  "What did the others do?" Treyvon asked quietly.

  "Nothing. They just watched. I ran after Todd, screaming." She remembered how crazed she'd been. "I'd nearly caught up to him when I saw him throw Todd's body out an opening. I jumped on the bastard's back, clawing at him as I screamed. He just grabbed me and threw me after Todd."

  "Into the crevasse below?"

  "Yes." Her eyes sharpened for a moment. "You've seen it?"

  "Yes. Every site we discovered had one. How did you get back to your people?" Treyvon had a hard time imagining her climbing the steep sides of the crevasse, especially as injured as she had been.

  "I didn't. Mac came after me. Didn't she tell you that?" she asked when she saw him frown. "We had found a passage leading from the smaller cave to the outside."

  "You were able to get out of the mine? Escape? Why did you remain then?!!" he demanded.

  "And go where?!!" Jen challenged back. "We climbed the steep walls outside the cave and saw what was out there. Nothing. Nothing but a crevasse full of rotting bodies. Besides that, none of the guys could have gotten out, and we weren't going to just leave them."

  "You stayed… your Dasho allowed this?"

  "I never told him."

  "What?"

  "We didn't tell them," she repeated.

  "They didn't know…" Treyvon couldn't believe it.

  "No. I'll never know how Mac got me back into the cave, but she did. Even though I begged her to leave me there and let me die."

  "You...”

  "I'd shattered my ankle when I landed," she gestured to her injured leg, "and the pain was excruciating. My husband was dead. What did I have to live for?"

  "Apparently, Mackenzie gave you a reason."

  "Yeah. The guys, cooking for the guys."

  "The same males that failed to protect you when you attacked a Zaludian?" Treyvon found himself questioning angrily.

  "There was nothing they could have done." She immediately defended her friends. "Not without getting themselves killed."

  "Then they should have died!" Treyvon all but roared. How could she defend those that had let her down in her time of need?

  "Why?" she asked quietly. "What makes my life more important than theirs?"

  "You are female," he instantly responded, surprise coloring his words.

  "So?"

  "You are always to be protected."

  "Even if it means another's certain death?"

  "Yes."

  "That's wrong," she told him simply. "My life is no more important than those men's. Less now that I have been injured. They at least have a chance to have full and productive lives."

  "And you don't?" He was struggling to understand this female. She was so different from those he had known.

  "No. My husband is dead. I knowingly abandoned my younger sister back on Earth, and I can't get back to make it right." She gazed out one of the small windows, sending out a silent prayer that her sister was all right, before looking the General straight in the eye. "All I can do now is help those that helped us. Meaning you."

  "The ones you've been deceiving."

  "I've explained that."

  "Not to my satisfaction. We Kaliszians believe in honor and truth, and you have displayed none of those."

  "Honor and truth." Jen gave him a considering look. "So tell me, General Rayner, what would you have done if the situation were reversed? If it had been one of your females that needed protection? Would you just blindly trust the males of a species that you knew nothing about, and couldn't understand, with her safety?"

  "No," Treyvon admitted grudgingly, his honor demanding he tell her truth. "But that still does not mean I trust you."

  "Why would I want to harm you or your Warriors?"

  "Because it is our fault that you were harmed and your mate killed."

  "You think I blame you for that?"

  "If we had been more… attentive to this area of our Empire, the Zaludians would never have had reason to take you."

  "True," Jen wasn't going to lie to him. If they had just done that, the Zaludians wouldn't have needed them as slave labor. "But that doesn't mean the Ganglians still wouldn't have taken us."

  "That is also truth."

  "I don't hold you responsible for their actions, General, and have no wish to harm you or your Warriors. It would serve no purpose except to hurt my friends, and I'm sure, end my life. And while I no longer fear death, I'm not going to try and intentionally get myself killed. Todd wouldn't want that."

  "Because of that, you wish to assist us?" Treyvon knew there had to be more.

  "That, and there's still the chance you might find Earth. If you do, then I can return home."

  "I see." Resting his elbows on his desk, he steepled his fingers bumping them against his chin. "So you would benefit from assisting us." That was something he could understand.

  "I hope so," she told him honestly.

  "Food is a precious commodity in the Kaliszian Empire."

  "I've learned that."

  "Yet you want me to trust you with it. With what my Warriors are willing to die for."

  "If they are willing to die for it, then they should be getting more out of it than what they are."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your food is tasteless. Food shouldn't be something that is endured. It should be something that is enjoyed. Anticipated. Savored, even."

  "You believe you can do that?" Treyvon raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

  "Yes, it’s what I trained to do back on Earth, and I already have here," she told him confidently, "for Nikhil and Luol. You have the basics, General. Not great basics, but still, I can make them taste better. Your Warriors will enjoy what they work so hard for."r />
  Treyvon leaned back, thinking about her words. Anticipating a meal? Savoring it? It was a strange and unusual concept to him, as strange and unusual as the female sitting before him.

  Kaliszian food supplies were distributed based on what each Kaliszian contributed to their society. The more they contributed, the more they received. All food was sent to a central location. From there, it was processed and distributed. Only those deemed essential, such as Warriors and those in the ruling class, received fresh food. Even then, it was only for one meal a day. Last Meal. The rest received the processed meals produced.

  He'd heard tales of the times before the Great Infection when food was plentiful, and there had been great banquets. It was said that Kaliszians were able to choose the food they wanted to eat instead of just being grateful for whatever they received. Still, he owed it to his Warriors to be cautious.

  "You trained to do this?"

  "Yes, and I finished at the top of my class. They don't just give you the title of Chef, you know. You have to earn it."

  "I see." He silently looked at her for a moment then reached his decision. "I will not trust you with our entire fresh food supply or command my Warriors to risk what is theirs. I will ask for volunteers. If there are those willing, then you may… Chef for them."

  "Cook," she corrected.

  "What?"

  "It's called cooking. I am a Chef, which means I cook food."

  "Cook."

  "Yes." Jen was surprised to feel a small flare of excitement stir inside her. It had been so long since she'd felt anything but despair. But to be given a chance to get back into a kitchen, to be creative again. "When can I go to the kitchen?"

  "Kitchen…?"

  "Where the food is prepared."

  "Why would you need to go there?" he asked suspiciously.

  "Because that's where the meals are prepared." Her tone suggested that should have been obvious.

  "You believe there will be Warriors that will allow you to cook for them?"

  "Yes," she told him confidently. "Although, I suppose I could cook out of the kitchen in Nikhil's quarters. I've already cleaned that."

 

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