by Lee Savino
“Commander, if I may speak,” Bogdan puts in, but my Tribute talks right over him, not even glancing at him. I do not look at him either, I am studying her face. Her blue eyes are filling with tears, her cheeks flushed with the strength of her upset.
“You can’t just rip women from their lives and expect them to settle down with a Tsenturion. I don’t care how many orgasms you give her, she will never forgive you.”
“Did you have a family, Dawn?” the doctor asks in his quiet voice. The question jerks both of our attention to him. I already know the answer and I know he does as well, but he is trying to make a point. I decide to let him take the lead, although I am not sure where he is going with this yet, but our aims are the same.
“No. I mean, I did, but they died when I was younger.” She twists back to me, her blue eyes large and imploring. Strangely, I feel her plea tugging at me, even though I know what my answer must be. “I didn’t have anyone, but the next woman might. You might take her from her children—”
“What if we take women who do not have ties to Earth?” Medik interrupts. “The program is designed to lure unattached females.” It was done so on purpose. Tsenturions do not want females who already have mates or children.
“How is that possible?” She throws up her hands. “If they’re from Earth, they’ll have ties.”
“Did you have ties?” Medik presses. He’s not upset or trying to be cruel. His face is patient, even a little sad. I feel the same melancholy. Even Bogdan has become more subdued, unwilling to interrupt. While he might not want more Tributes from Earth either, the subject is bringing up the stark loneliness we endure. He has stopped eating, his gaze turned towards the windows and the emptiness out there.
No Tsenturion has ties to a planet or a family anymore. Those of us who are left are each other’s family, but it is not the same. We would never deprive someone not an enemy of the same by choice.
Dawn
“It was different for me,” I tell Medik. “I was more alone than most people.”
It’s true. The revelation had hurt when Frllil pointed it out to me, but it doesn’t anymore. If anything, I feel relieved that there’s no one on Earth who would miss me. I didn’t have regular friends, or ties to anyone. Funny how it took being sucked into another galaxy where I’m the only human for me to realize how alone I’d been.
But it’s better this way, because while I’m determined to get home eventually, I’m also pragmatic enough to realize that might not actually be possible. I’d rather no one be desperately searching for me, without answers. People go missing all the time and it leaves devastation in their wake; at least my disappearance won’t do that to anyone. I wouldn’t call myself resigned to my fate, but I recognize this might be it for me.
At the very least, I have to keep this from happening to anyone else.
“I was alone,” I repeat a little desperately. “But with the next woman that might not be the case. You can’t keep doing this.”
“We have no choice, Dawn,” the doctor says, his voice tired and heavy. Gavrill’s hand suddenly rests on the back of my neck, over the collar, in an almost comforting gesture. I can feel tears welling as I realize they’re in earnest. “We have been alone too long. The warriors almost don’t remember what it is like to be around a female. Now that you are here, they remember. They have begun to desire a mate, and, for the first time in countless cycles, they have hope. We cannot stop the program now.”
A weighty silence fills the room, and I can almost feel the sadness hanging heavy in the air. Even Bogdan is affected, although his gaze cut to the doctor when he said they could not stop the program now. All of their armor shimmers silvery grey and I swear, I can feel Gavrill’s emotions again. That or the nanotech is somehow tuning me into his feelings.
He’s sad, but it goes beyond that. A deep grief that feels old—memories of his lost loved ones? And something fresher, more familiar, a pain that mingles with his own regret. The regret is his, but the pain feels like mine. An echo of my own feelings. I turn to stare at the hard angles of his face without seeing him. Am I feeling what he’s feeling? And if I am—is he empathizing with me?
“Commander,” Bogdan cuts in, as Gavrill and I look at each other. “If I may. I object to the program.”
Well. Never thought I’d agree with Tall, Dark, and Moody. Silently I turn to look at him as Gavrill changes his focus to his second-in-command. The sad grey is gone from his armor already and it has darkened to a more neutral gray. How I can tell the difference I don’t know, but I feel sure of it.
“I am aware,” Gavrill answers him, his voice serious. “But, having heard Medik’s conclusion, what is your argument?”
“These Tributes are not necessary to our mission.” Bogdan waves a hand in my direction. It wouldn’t look so menacing if the claw he used to cut his food wasn’t still sticking out of his suit arm. Red streaks momentarily through his armor. “They are a distraction. They will not aid us in our objective.”
“And what is our objective?” Medik asks, turning to face Bogdan and raising his eyebrows. I’m reminded of a teacher, facing off with an unruly student.
Bogdan’s large hands clench into fists, his dark eyes fierce. “To destroy our enemy.”
“And then what?” Medik asks. “What do we do once the enemy is gone? Continue on our mission to protect the Jabol? What about our species? The needs of the warriors for life outside of revenge? For deca-cycles we have lived as warriors, protecting the weak and bringing order to the galaxy. But when is it their turn to have a life? A family?”
Bogdan’s suit is so black, it seems to suck light into its obsidian depths. “Commander, we do not require—”
“I disagree,” Gavrill says, his fingers stroking the back of my neck. “The warriors are fascinated by my Tribute. Many of them already want their own now that we know it is possible. We’ve gone too long as warriors focused on one objective. Many of the warriors are tired. Our memories are long, but revenge cannot sustain us forever. We need something to fight for, and I believe the Tributes will provide that.”
“And when they don’t want to fight at all?” Bogdan asks, growling his response as his eyes flash. “We retired our warriors when it was time for them to mate for a reason. One cannot be both a warrior and a mate.”
“That has been true in the past,” Medik acknowledges. “But our circumstances have changed. We no longer have the luxury of separating our lives the way we did before.”
“But—”
“I agree with Medik,” Gavrill says, interrupting whatever argument Bogdan was about to make.
Bogdan’s boots thump the floor as he rises. Red slashes skitter like lightning across his armor. “If it’s already decided then I see no point to my presence here.”
I sit quietly on Gavrill’s lap as Bogdan storms out of the room, obviously irate at Gavrill’s decision. It sucks because I want the same thing as him, although for a very different reason. On the other hand, I can see what Medik and Gavrill are saying. What was that old Star Trek saying? Something about the good of the many coming before the good of the one or something.
They are willing to sacrifice the lives of a few human women for the good of their entire people. It’s really more than a few, but Frllil had told me there were only several thousand Tsenturions left now. Compared to the number of women on Earth, that’s a drop in the bucket. And without them, the Tsenturions will become extinct.
There is no right answer and it makes my heart hurt.
“Give him time. He’ll come around.” The doctor helps himself to a piece of the blackened meat on Bogdan’s abandoned plate. The purple goo has hardened and turned... orange. Eww. “He feels things more deeply than most. So he likes to pretend he cannot feel anything at all.”
“Perhaps,” Gavrill murmurs. He picks up another disc thingy to feed me, but I push it away. Still unsettled about the feelings I’m feeling—my own amplified and mirrored back to me—I shake my head. Nausea rises up in
the back of my throat. Even though I know it’s hopeless, even though I understand their reasons why, I have to ask again.
At least I know what happened to all of my relatives when they left me. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to have someone I love disappear and not know what happened to them… to never know. And for that person to be clear across the universe, wondering what their loved ones back home are thinking, what they’re doing…
The Jabol got it right with me, but who says they’ll get it right every time? Even one mistake would be too many.
“Promise me you won’t continue the program.” I blink back tears, placing my hands on his chest and looking into his eyes, pleading with my own. “Promise.”
Gavrill’s eyes turn black as Bogdan’s suit, a deep well I could drown in. Endless, empty space. The emotions I’ve been feeling swell, like our solitude, our loneliness, is feeding off of each other the same way our passion does.
Suddenly, I’m gasping, choking on tears, a deep desolation draining me and leaving me empty… a thousand years of heartache, of isolation, of hopelessness and I’m drowning in it. The darkness of his eyes expands and swallows me whole and I’m falling, falling.
Two thoughts rush through me, filling my empty body:
I’m all alone.
And… the barest whisper....
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Gavrill
As my Tribute passes out in my arms for the second time in two cycles, I am nearly undone. Surely it is not normal or healthy for her to be unconscious so often. There must be something wrong with her. Although I trust the Jabol, I worry that perhaps they did something to her detriment through ignorance. She is the first human either of our species has seen, after all.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, trying not to sound as frantic as I feel. Medik is already standing, a frown on his face, as he moves around my side of the table. I push back so that he can examine her with the scanner he always carries. Panic is rising in my chest, making it tighten painfully.
"Patience, Gavrill," he mutters as he holds the scanner up against her and begins to run it from her shoulders down to her hips, checking her vital signs. Calling me by my name rather than my title is a sign that he recognizes my distress, although he is not rude enough to comment on it.
My armor is a burgundy red with shimmering violet overtones, displaying my upset and anxiety for him to see. Medik makes an odd humming noise under his breath as he looks at the scanner's readout.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing."
"It is not nothing, tell me what's wrong with her," I demand.
Medik glances up at me, his eyes kind. Patient. "I am not trying to hide bad news from you, there is literally nothing wrong with her that I can see. Her body is in perfect working order, other than being unconscious."
As I watch, he moves the scanner up beside her head and that's when his eyebrows lift.
"There is something wrong with her, isn't there?" Fear grips me, the kind I haven't felt in deca-cycles. "Can it be fixed?" Had going through the wormhole harmed her? Or something the Jabol did? Or, worse, something I had done?
"Nothing permanent," Medik says firmly. He gives me a look, lifting his eyebrow. "This is actually very interesting. These are similar to the kinds of readings I would expect from a Tsenturion female in the process of bonding with her male. I think some of the changes to her brain waves may have overwhelmed her."
I am surprised to feel a pang of disappointment at his description of it being 'similar' to rather than the same. Also, a touch of worry that it would cause her to faint. That didn't happen to Tsenturion females, did it? I realize I do not actually know. I was never interested enough in attending the mating festival to learn the specifics, although I had the general knowledge from watching my parents and other bonded pairs before I had begun my military service.
"That... would a Tsenturion female react to the bonding process the same way?" I ask curiously.
Medik dashes my hopes immediately.
"No," he says, shaking his head and tapping at something on the scanner. "They were Tsenturion after all, their brains would go through a maturing during courtship as the bond grew, but biologically we were all designed for it. Not being Tsenturion, it is not surprising that Dawn would have some different reactions. She seems unharmed, although I'd like to take her to the med bay for closer observation. We can learn a lot about what to expect for the future Tributes from her."
"Of course." Immediately I heft her in my arms, feeling slightly calmer as she sighs and nestles against me even in her unconscious state. I hadn't even realized I'd begun to harbor a faint hope for a full Tsenturion bonding, but it seems unlikely now.
Still, perhaps there will be a facsimile of one, as she is going through a 'similar' process. Whatever she manages, and the influence of the nanotech which has already allowed me to sense much of her physical reactions and interpreted to her emotions for me, will have to be enough.
We are nearly to the med bay when my comm hails me. I open the line, already feeling impatient with whoever feels the need to speak to me now.
"High Commander?" The uncertain voice of Corin, currently captaining the ship while Bogdan and I are off duty, fills my ear. I frown, because normally Corin is just as confident as myself or Bogdan, otherwise he would not qualify to sit in the Captain’s chair.
"Yes, Corin?" I try to keep my impatience out of my voice.
"Ah, High Commander, I ah... well, third shift has started and..." His voice trails off, uncertain and hesitant, because it is difficult to tell the commander of what is left of the entire Tsenturion race that he is late for his shift.
I close my eyes, torn between my duty and the female in my arms. That I feel so is shocking to me… but I am protective of her. Not only is she mine to care for, but she is so helpless and weak. How could I be anything but protective? I cannot allow that to interfere with my duty and I know it. The impulse to stay with her makes no sense to me, yet I feel it keenly.
“High Commander? I can call Bogdan to the bridge instead, if—”
“No.” I cut Corin off immediately, my voice sharp. The last thing I need is for Bogdan to know that I was late for my duty because of my Tribute. He requires no more ammunition for his arguments against the Tribute program. I will have to be better about demonstrating our ability to balance our lives as warriors with our Tributes. “I will be there momentarily. My apologies for my tardiness.”
“Yes, High Commander.”
I can practically feel Corin’s salute through the com.
Medik raises his eyebrows at me as we turn into the med bay. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” I say stubbornly. I will not allow it to be a problem. “But I must go; it is my shift on the bridge and the ship requires its High Commander. Do what you must for her. I will send Arkdhem to escort her when you are finished. We will have to continue our conversation about the program at some other time.”
“Very well. Please lay her over here,” Medik says, gesturing to one of the empty beds.
Gently, I lay my Tribute down. Her pale face tugs at my heart and the desire to stay by her side until she opens her beautiful blue eyes again is overwhelming. My feet feel heavy as I turn and head for the door, but I force myself to keep moving anyway, already sending a communication to Arkdhem. It grates that I cannot care for my Tribute myself, but at least I can provide her with a suitable escort—one who will immediately report to me when she awakens.
10
Dawn
Beep. Beep. Beep. A machine chirps in time to my heartbeat. I open my eyes to a grey-beige blur.
“Be at ease, Tribute.”
“Dawn,” I mumble. “Please. I am so freaking tired of being called Tribute, like that's all that matters about me.” Especially when I'm flat on my back, vulnerable, and aching, I want to hear my name. My real name, spoken by someone who pretends to care.
“Dawn, then,” the deep voice repeats, gentle a
nd filled with what sounds like sincere care. My vision clears as I blink back the moisture suddenly threatening my eyes. The Tsenturion doctor hovers over me, his lined face soft with concern. “Stay calm. You are well.”
“What happened?”
His lips quirk into a smile. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell me that. As an outside observer, it seemed as though you were talking to the Commander before you rather suddenly passed out. The scanner indicated new brainwaves than what I had recorded from you before, closely matching those of a Tsenturion female with her bonded, but I need more information before I can say anything definitive."
New brainwaves? That sounds vaguely terrifying. Was my brain actually changing?
Strangely, despite the fact that he’s a Tsenturion and I don’t really know him, I feel just as comfortable with Medik as I did with any of my doctors back home. I instinctively trust him, too, and I just want him to tell me what was wrong and how to fix it... but what he says makes sense.
I blink as I push myself up to a sitting position. Immediately his hand hovers near me, in case I should need assistance, but I manage to sit up on my own.
"I... I just remember looking into Gavrill's eyes and they were so dark, and then it felt like I was falling into them. I felt so alone, too, though I was sitting on his lap, I felt overwhelming loneliness and sadness and grief... but it didn't feel like those emotions were really mine, if that makes any sense."
To my shock, a smile blooms across Medik's face, wide and joyful and making him look about ten years younger than the seventy-something human years he currently resembles.
“You felt his emotions!" The excitement in his voice takes me aback slightly. "A side effect of bonding. The bond can act as a mirror between partners. If two partners share the strong emotion, the feeling is amplified between them. This most often manifests itself as passion but... in this case obviously it was otherwise. You must have accessed the Commander’s emotions while you already were experiencing your own influx of feelings. Your body was unable to handle it and shut down. A simple loss of consciousness.”
