Treyvon (Kaliszian)

by M. K. Eidem

  “Yes, quite often actually.”

  “Truth?” Nroa asked, speaking for the first time.

  “Truth, Warrior Nroa,” she told him. “For the vast majority of the people on Earth, food is plentiful. They only have to choose what they wish to eat, the amount, and how they want it prepared.”

  Nroa’s eyes grew wider as she spoke, and she could tell he was struggling with the thought that food could be so plentiful. Without a word, he spun on his heel and left the kitchen, followed by Onp.

  "Gulzar?" she asked, looking at him concerned.

  "It is fine, Jen. They were just surprised," he reassured her. "Do you wish for me to return the stock to the cool room?"

  "That would be great. Thank you. And while you do that, I'll grab the vegetables I need." Grabbing a bowl, Jen walked into the dry room selecting what she wanted. There was a little more variety left than she first thought. Not a lot, but still. A couple of what she knew were a type of carrot, some onion, and of course, tatws or potatoes. Moving back to her prep area, she began cleaning them.

  Gulzar watched everything she did carefully. Asking questions Jen was more than willing to answer. When she cut the tops off the carrots, removed the stringy root growth, and began to peel them, he was astonished.

  "You aren't supposed to use those parts?"

  "You can use the tops for soups or salads if they are fresh. These," she gestured to the limp, brown stocks, "are not."

  "And the outside that you are...”

  "Peeling," she supplied the word for him. "Again, if they are young and fresh you don't need to. You just scrub them really well. The older they get, though, like these, the tougher the skin. You can leave it on if you're making stock, but to eat them in something, I peel them."

  "I see. But you don't peel the tatws?"

  "You can, but I scrubbed these well and see," she showed him a potato, "it removed most of the skin, so there's no need."

  "Alright."

  "Now this onion." She held up the largest one she had ever seen and removed the dry brittle outside. "This part you must remove and discard. Now, if it is like onions on Earth, you need to be prepared."

  "Be prepared? For what?"

  "To cry."

  "Cry?"

  "Yes. When you chop it, the juices release a gas that can irritate your eyes, making them water."

  "It harms you?"

  "No, it just makes your eyes water." Jen quickly and expertly chopped the onion into the size she wanted with just the smallest of sniffles. "Well, that wasn't so bad."

  "You handle a short blade very well," Gulzar told her, a slight note of awe in his voice.

  "As a Chef, I'd better," she told him smiling, and just for fun she twirled the perfectly balanced knife around her hand a few times in a flourish. It was something she'd gotten in trouble for from her instructors in school, but still, it was fun. Finally, she set the knife aside and added the potatoes to the other vegetables in a bowl. "Now, we just need to add all this to the roaster."

  "That is all you must do?" Gulzar gave her a disbelieving look as she poured the vegetables into the roaster and stirred.

  "Pretty much. About fifteen minutes before serving, I'll see if it is thickened up enough. If not, I can thicken it."

  Gulzar knew his eyebrows lowered, but he didn't voice his confusion. He would wait and see what she did.

  "Now all that's left to do is make the biscuits."

  "That is the bread you mentioned."

  "Yes. I can't believe you don't have anything similar. It's so good, and not that hard to make especially biscuits. Now yeast breads are an entirely different thing, but well worth the time they take."

  "Yeast bread...”

  "Yeast is… well, it’s yeast. I don't know how to explain it. Chefs and Bakers have two very different skill sets."

  "And you are a Chef?"

  "Yes, and while I know how to bake, I am not as skilled at it as a Baker would be."

  "Yet you have more training than anyone else in the Kaliszian Empire."

  Jen's breath left her as the truth and weight of the statement pressed down on her. Gulzar was right. She was the only one in the Kaliszian Empire trained to handle food. Suddenly the career she'd chosen because she loved it because it satisfied her, and if she were honest, chosen only for that reason, became so much more.

  To the Kaliszians.

  There had been a time in Earth's past, at least the past as Jen knew it, where whatever food you ate was based on what was cooked at home. People didn't go out to eat often, and everything was home cooked.

  Jen's experience was different. Her mother, while she liked to cook, loved to go out. Every maître d' in their hometown knew Jane Teel by first name and catered to her. They made sure they had her favorite table available whenever she called and knew her favorite foods. Waiters would fight to serve her because they knew she tipped well.

  Jen grew up ordering from a menu, eating only the finest, the most perfect, and most flavorful food. If it wasn't, she sent it back. How entitled was that thinking when there were Kaliszians whose mouths had never watered over food before?

  This was what one of her teachers had tried to make her realize, and Jen thought she had. It was why she wanted to open a farm-to-table restaurant. Now she realized it was just ego, and because it was what everyone else was doing.

  "Jen?" Gulzar didn't understand why she'd become so quiet.

  "Hmm?"

  "Did I say something wrong?"

  "What? No, no! I was just thinking back to my training and wishing I had paid more attention to the baking portion."

  "You did not do well in it?" he asked, thinking of the areas he struggled with in his Elite Warrior training.

  "I did. I just didn't enjoy it as much as the other areas."

  "I understand."

  "You do?"

  "Yes. All I have ever wanted is to be an Elite Warrior. To be the first in my bloodline to achieve that status, but there are things I must learn, that while necessary, I do not enjoy doing."

  Jen silently gazed at Gulzar for a moment, realizing what he must be referring to. Killing. Learning ways to kill to protect those under his care, like her. If he, someone younger than Jen, could do that, then she needed to step up and shoulder the much lighter burden of feeding him.

  "I'm sure that has to be true. I need to thank you for that, Gulzar."

  "Thank me?" he frowned at her.

  "Yes, for willingly taking on that burden. I know I couldn't do it."

  "That is an untruth. You protected Ashe Mackenzie when the Zaludians tried to take her."

  "That's different. It was a direct attack on someone I knew, right in front of me. You are willing to go wherever you are ordered and defend those you don't even know."

  Gulzar found his cheeks darkening at her words. Never had a female said such a thing to him, especially with such truth in her voice.

  "I… Thank you, Jen," he whispered.

  "You're welcome. Now, come on. I'll show you how to make the lightest, flakiest biscuits you've ever tasted."

  "I have never tasted a biscuit," he told her in such a serious voice that Jen started to laugh.

  "That's true," she said still laughing, "but you can believe me when I say these are good even by Earth standards."

  • • • • • •

  Gulzar just stared at what Jen pulled out of the oven in astonishment. Never in his life had he seen anything as miraculous. He'd closely watched as Jen carefully mixed the plúr and other ingredients, telling him you needed to be gentle with them. Not that he understood what that meant. She then turned it out onto the spotless counter and patted it into the form she wanted. She explained everything as she did it and why. She also told him that on Earth, 'biscuits’ were typically round, but as she didn't want to waste anything, she was going to make them square.

  He'd watched her place the pale, limp squares on what she called a baking sheet before sliding them into the oven along with the stew, knowing th
ere was no way he would be eating one. He'd prefer to go hungry. But now… now as she pulled them back out, he was shocked. The pale lumps of goo now stood tall and were golden brown. And the smell. It was unrivaled, at least until she took the lid off the stew.

  "Perfect," he heard her say, stirring the stew. "Now we just need to wait for everyone to arrive."

  • • • • • •

  Mac was practically dragging Nikhil down the corridor to the area where Last Meal was served. The wonderful scent of baking biscuits being carried by the dry breeze caused Warriors to stop what they were doing and sniff suspiciously.

  “Is that… stew?” Nikhil asked quietly.

  “No, that’s biscuits!” she told him excitedly.

  Nikhil couldn’t believe how his Mackenzie was acting. Her beautiful, brown eyes were sparkling, and he’d never seen that smile gracing her face before. He would do whatever it took to keep it there, even if it meant consuming her stew and biscuits.

  Entering the room, Nikhil was shocked to see that while Warriors lined up as they normally would to receive their portion of Last Meal, their gazes were locked on a table that had a covered, flat pan. It seemed to be from where the mouth-moistening aroma was coming.

  "Are those," Nikhil gestured to the table, "biscuits?"

  "I certainly hope so." Mac moved toward the table, stopping only when Jen came out of the kitchen pushing a hover cart with a large roaster on it.

  "Mac! You made it."

  "Of course, I did. Did you think I'd miss beef stew and biscuits?"

  "Beast stew," Jen told her smiling. "As I don't know what kind of meat it is. On Earth, red meat can be lamb, beef, goat, or bison."

  "Does it cook the same?" Mac asked looking to the roaster.

  "Yes. Now sit down," Jen looked over her shoulder, "you too, Gulzar, and once Luol arrives, I'll serve the stew. Until then, you can start with the biscuits. Here's the butter."

  "You found butter?" Mac couldn't believe it.

  "The Kaliszian version of it, yes. It's a little different than ours, but still works."

  "Different? How do you mean different?"

  "It’s pink, not yellow." Jen took the cover off the jar she'd brought out. "But it tastes and acts the same. I let it come to room temperature so it would be spreadable."

  Mac immediately reached for a biscuit. After pulling it apart, she reached for the knife Jen had placed beside the butter and slathered a generous portion on half before taking a bite.

  "OMG," Mac groaned around the bite in her mouth. "Jen, this is so good. Nikhil. Try." Mac didn't give her Dasho a choice as she all but shoved what was left into his mouth.

  Nikhil called on all his Warrior control to keep his expression from changing as his Ashe and True Mate, forced the strange food into his mouth. He didn't want to upset her. She was his whole world, and he would endure anything if it made her happy. Even eat terrible… Everything in Nikhil's system suddenly stilled, and his eyes widened.

  What was this in his mouth? It wasn't cooked dough, as Mac had tried to explain to him. It was light and flavorful and as he cautiously chewed, seemed to dissolve in his mouth, and he swallowed.

  "So?" Mac asked, and it was then that Nikhil realized every male in the room was waiting for his response.

  "That tastes," Nikhil searched for a word. For in truth, he had never tasted anything like it and thought of an Earth word his Mackenzie had said to him before. "Amazing."

  His reward was the brilliant smile that broke across not just his Mackenzie's face, but also Jennifer's. He knew he had never seen anything more stunning. A low rumble began to fill the room.

  "I'm glad you liked it, Nikhil. Now sit." Jen saw Luol enter the room. "Luol is here so you can all eat." Removing the lid from the roaster, she set it aside and reached for the ladle and a bowl. Filling one, she placed it on a plate then put several biscuits on it. "Here you go, Mac."

  Jen wasn't surprised when Mac set the plate in front of Nikhil first, sliding the butter and a spoon to him as Jen filled the next bowl. But everyone else was.

  "Here, Gulzar, slide this down to Luol," Jen said placing the stew and biscuits in front of him. "Nikhil, I think Luol missed how to butter the biscuits. Will you show him?"

  She then filled a bowl and plate, setting it before Gulzar and then did the same for Mac. Then she reached for another, larger one, filling it with twice as much stew before placing in on the hover cart, adding half a dozen biscuits and a small container of butter before covering it all.

  "Jen?" Mac asked. "What are you doing?"

  "General Rayner contributed his food stores to this meal, but he's not here. So I'm going to take him his share."

  "But, Jen, you haven't eaten yet," Mac protested.

  "I'll eat when I get back." Jen held up her hand, stopping the protest she knew was coming from Mac. "I will, Mac. Now eat. Oh, and there’s another batch of biscuits in the kitchen if anyone else wants some."

  "But...”

  "I used the basic supplies to make them, and Gulzar has told me that they are available to all. So everyone should be able to eat them."

  "Gulzar?" Nikhil looked to the younger Warrior.

  "Jen is correct," Gulzar admitted. "The supplies she used are available for all to consume."

  "Nikhil, there is enough for all. Will you make sure all receive their share?" Jen only waited long enough for him to nod, knowing no one would dare stand against the largest Warrior in the Kaliszian Empire and that Nikhil would make sure everyone received an equal amount. She pushed the cart out of the room, not noticing the shocked looks she was receiving.

  • • • • • •

  Chapter Twelve

  Treyvon continued to read the report on his stationary comm as he ordered whoever was knocking on the door of his Command Center to enter. That was until an amazing scent reached his nose and he looked up.

  "General, since you don't come to Last Meal," Jen said backing into the room pulling the hover cart. “I’ve brought Last Meal to you.”

  Treyvon's gaze traveled over Jennifer, taking in the covering Nikhil's Ashe had given her. It was the only other covering she had, other than what they had given her when she first arrived. He had refused to let himself see her since he’d left her quarters the night before, making a point of staying away from the kitchen area. Not that he had any reason to be there. Her words and actions still stung, and until he could figure out why he needed to keep his distance.

  "Why are you here?" Treyvon asked curtly.

  Jen stilled as she turned the cart around to face Treyvon, taking in the stiffness of his posture as well as the curtness of his tone. She realized he was still upset about how she acted the night before, and she couldn't blame him. He'd done nothing wrong, only shown his concern for her, again and again. She was the one whose emotions were all over the place, and it would be up to her to extend the olive branch.

  “Look. I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. It wasn’t you. It was me.” God, she thought, could she sound more cliché?

  “How?” Treyvon demanded.

  “How what?” Jen frowned at him.

  “How was it you?” Treyvon asked again. “I am the one you backed away from. I am the one that makes you uncomfortable. How then is it you?”

  “Because I… look can’t we just forget about it?” Jen found herself not wanting to have to explain further. It was embarrassing enough that she knew. She didn’t want Treyvon to know. “I won’t make the mistake again.”

  “What mistake do you think you made?”

  “That the attention and concern you were giving me was personal. Alright?!!” she said through tight lips.

  “It is my duty to see to the welfare of those under my protection,” Treyvon informed her.

  “Of course! That’s what I’m saying. You were doing your duty. That I thought… Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. It was dumb, stupid really, for me to think it could be possible. So what I’m trying to say is that it won’t happen agai
n. So can we just act like it didn’t happen?”

  Jen was out of breath by the time she finished. She knew she was rambling and sounded like an idiot, but what was she supposed to say? That she liked having him around? That he made her feel safe, protected even, which was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. That there was something about him that had her starting to feel like a woman again? She knew it was wrong. First, because Todd hadn’t been dead that long. And second, because there was no way Treyvon would be interested in her. Not as damaged as she was.

  Treyvon silently stared at Jennifer, trying to decipher what she was saying. But it made no sense to him. She seemed to be implying that by him doing his duty; he had offended her. How? Was caring for a female something only a Dasho was allowed to do in her world? She hadn’t seemed upset by his presence… or his touch. Not until last night in her new quarters.

  Had she been false with him? Only enduring his presence until she had gotten what she wanted from him, as other females had because of his ancestor? If that were truth, why would she be here offering to share the food stores he had allowed her to use? Did she need something else? He needed to find out.

  “No. We cannot,” he answered her question.

  “Oh.”

  “Not until you explain how my seeing to your needs has made you uncomfortable in my presence.”

  “It didn’t. It doesn’t. Why would you think it did? I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me… and the others,” she quickly added.

  “I did not ask for your gratitude. I asked what I have done to make you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s not what you have done! Don’t you understand that? It’s that it is what you would have done for anyone under your protection!” Jen tried to keep the anger and hurt out of her voice but knew she had failed on both counts when Treyvon’s eyebrows drew together. She knew she was just going to have to get it out there. She owed him that. “I thought it was personal! That you were someone I could rely on. That you’d be there for me. That I didn’t have to handle everything alone anymore. It… hurt when I woke from the educator the second time and you weren’t there. I should have known better because really why would you be?” She gestured to him before she continued gesturing back to herself, “Be interested in this.”