by Celia Kyle
“I said the kitchens, Vende. Not the eating area.”
“Oh.” Vende headed toward the big doors at the end of the dining area, wondering what his mate could possibly want in the meal preparation area.
He pushed open the doors, carrying himself with his usual arrogance. The cooks and other stewards might look at him strangely, but he was allowed into any part of the ship he chose, even if he had never visited the space before.
He scanned the room quickly, finally spying Dawn at the back. She wore a tiny scrap of fabric around her midsection that had slender straps across the shoulders, and her pants were pulled tightly across her hips and ass by her position. The way she leaned over the bins pointed her rear straight up to the ceiling, giving any Preor who walked by an enticing view. Her breasts must be dangling out of the tiny top as well.
“Dawn!” he roared before he could stop himself. “What are you doing?”
Every cook and kitchen hand scuttled toward the corners of the room. No one wanted to get caught between a senior officer and his mate. Dawn didn’t even look up.
“I’ve been taking care of her,” the head chef, Laryns, spoke up. “She’s looking for garbage or something.”
“It is not garbage!” she said indignantly. “It’s compost. From now on all organic matter is to come to the garden. Do you hear? I’ll have a special bin set up.”
Laryns looked at her bucket of goop uncertainly. “Do I have to touch it?”
Dawn laughed. “Only as much as you always have. Instead of putting this stuff in the trash, put it in a separate container. That’s all you have to do.”
“What are you collecting?” Vende was completely unaware of what she held as he crossed the room to her. When she raised up the bucket and put it under his nose, he staggered away, covering the lower half of his face. “Dawn. What the literal fuck?”
“Look at him go, ladies and gentlemen. I taught him everything he knows.” Penelope giggled from above.
Dawn frowned at Vende, shaking her bucket. “What’s your problem?”
“Dawn. It’s garbage. Old tea bags, eggshells, bits of potato peel. What could you possibly want with that?”
Dawn grinned, standing up straight to point the bucket at him. “Shall I give a lecture on molecular breakdown?”
Vende took another step away, eying the bucket. “Not right now. How about you put the bucket down? Or cover it?”
“I don’t get your reaction, seriously.”
“Dawn!” Vende snapped, starting to become conscious of the entire room observing them. “You are not going to carry around garbage! I forbid it!”
“Oooh, here we go,” Penelope drawled. “Vende’s about to find out what happens when you forbid a human woman.”
Dawn stood up straight, gripping her bucket in both hands. Her eyes narrowed and she gave Vende a granite-hard glare. “I need this stuff to make compost. It’s the best fertilizer for the plants and it’s easy to make. By using all of the organic offcuts from the ship, we supply the plants with the same sort of bacteria that’s all over us. It’s like… local flora. When we eat the plants or use them to make medicine, it means they are conditioned for our eco system and our bodies.”
Vende stood in front of her, trying to look stern. He had no idea what she was talking about. “My mate is not walking around with buckets of vile garbage. That is final.”
“Fuck, Vende,” Penelope muttered. “Stop digging for fuck’s sakes.”
Dawn walked a few steps closer to Vende, mischievous light beginning to shine in her eyes. “I can’t let anyone else do it, at least not yet.” A grin split her lips and a glint sparkled in her eye. “I need to make sure everyone knows what to put in the compost bin. You can’t have protein or normal garbage in there.”
Vende shook his head, looking at Dawn and the bucket as if he could separate them by will alone. He took a step back. Dawn grinned and shook the bucket. As a large tea bag fell down and revealed a nest of half decayed apple rings, he gagged, grabbing his stomach.
“Oh, Vende,” Dawn sang, getting closer. “Is this a problem for you?”
“For the love of Syh stop.” He gulped and staggered away. A rotten banana peel slithered across the edge of the bucket and almost fell on the floor. Vende swayed on his feet. He wished he were flying into a battle to the death instead of standing so near that slop.
Dawn giggled, shaking the bucket at him again. “Oh, look!” Dawn stared into the bucket with genuine enthusiasm. “There are larvae in here already. I wonder if it’s a human thing or a Preor thing? I can’t wait to see what it grows into!” She got closer to Vende, shaking the bucket. “Look Vende! Aren’t they cool? Little white dots there. Maybe beetles?”
Vende fled the kitchen. His dishonor at running from his mate was matched by his disgust of the slimy garbage.
He stayed on the other side of the door, gasping for air until Penelope addressed him. “Hey there, big guy. You okay?”
“Get me out of here please, Penelope. I need to fly.”
“No problem, Vende. But I should probably warn you.”
“About what?”
“Dawn has a lot of work to do today bringing in fertilizer. This is just the beginning. She’ll soon be handling several tons of manure. Some raw and some desiccated.”
“You lie. This is exactly like you,” Vende accused in fury.
“I could be, but I’m not,” she said in a singsong voice.
“I don’t want to hear it.” Vende sounded so distressed Penelope transported him without another protest.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dawn watched Vende go, surprised he had been so disgusted he fled. She peered into the bucket, again admiring the scurrying larvae. The fact that they had hatched out in the bin was very good sign since that meant the food scraps had only been present a few days.
She went back through the main bins again, filling up several buckets with compost material. A large pit had been dug midway through the rain forest and other people were out today collecting compost from other dump areas—even down on Kouvai Nihon. She planned to throw everything in the hole, cover and mulch it before starting a new pit further in the forest.
It would take several months for this stuff to break down enough to be used. The new ditch would be the active dumping spot, and so long as they collected the organic matter continuously, they would always have fertilizer for the plants.
When she was almost ready to go and organizing some Preor to carry buckets for her, Vende returned. She smiled brightly and hurried over to him.
“Vende, you came back! Do you want to see—”
“No.” He waved his hands. “I can smell you from here. I just wanted to bring you this.”
Vende held out a big blue shirt with a collar and small buttons. The long sleeves had tight cuffs. She turned it around in front of her, puzzled.
“This looks too big for me, Vende.”
“Dawn, when I left here and took to the air to get the foul stench out of my mouth, the only thing that kept bugging me about this situation was your attire.”
Dawn looked down at herself, genuinely puzzled. The stretchy pants were pulled tightly on her butt and thighs but loose in the calf and ankles. The tiny tank top was all elastic with barely-there straps. She had worn things like this her whole life. It was just comfortable for working in the garden.
“I don’t understand.”
Vende’s eyebrows shot up. “You are walking around practically naked!” he whispered furiously. “And these are all sex-starved Preor!”
“But they can’t mate me, right?” Dawn said matter-of-factly. “I mean, I’m partnered already. So, they can’t touch me.”
Vende stared at her in complete amazement. Dawn put her hands on her hips. Her voice rose in volume. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that I shouldn’t walk around by myself and that somehow this outfit is too revealing. Are you implying that your men have no control over themselves?”
“What?” Vende app
eared so confused Dawn almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Am I distraction to your men?” Dawn smiled, deliberately teasing but with a hint of seriousness in her tone. “What sort of soldiers are you, if some tight clothes are going to distract you so much you can’t perform your work?”
Vende stared at her, jaw slack. Every kitchen hand and cook in the place worked furiously with their heads down, determined not to look at Vende or Dawn.
“I don’t like them looking at you,” Vende finally said.
Dawn turned to gather up her buckets. “Then you tell them not to look. It’s hot in the garden. I’m not wearing that torture device. Do you really think you can dictate what I wear?”
A long, low whistle sounded through the room and Dawn smiled. Penelope was, as always, an attentive audience.
Dawn gathered up as many buckets as she could carry, haughtily striding past Vende toward the doors. He followed quickly, trying to get doors open before she reached them. “Can I carry a bucket for you?”
“I don’t know, Vende. It smells pretty bad. Something might crawl out of the bucket and burrow into you.”
Vende recoiled, retching. Dawn grinned. He was just far too much fun.
“Do you mean that?” Horror edged his tone.
Dawn giggled. “Honestly, I can’t promise anything, Vende.”
He looked at the buckets with wide eyes and then up at Dawn. Just as his face looked like it was about to screw up in disgust, he got control of his involuntary response before he could break and show everyone just how upset he was over the garbage.
He tried to take a deep breath, but the smell was too strong and he almost gagged. He pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he reached over and grabbed a couple of buckets out of Dawn’s hands before turning to walk down the hallway. Dawn watched in amusement, still surprised at her mate’s reaction to compost.
“Penelope, can you transport me?” he asked, trying not to show his discomfort. Even at this early stage, Dawn could read him very well. Who couldn’t right now? His body language practically screamed.
“Ah… I’m sorry about that, Vende. But I can’t teleport you when you’ve got that stuff.”
“What, you refuse to have it anywhere within your outer system?” he retorted.
Penelope huffed. “It’s organic matter, Vende. You could end up wearing it in your skin. Even when you’re as good as me, teleporting has certain risks. My powers are not absolute.”
Dawn set off at a decent pace, skipping a little and singing. The changing energy in the garden invigorated her, and she felt stronger than she ever had. Vende was a big part of that, but for the first time ever, Dawn felt like she could trust herself. Vende followed, holding the buckets out as far away from his body as possible.
By the time they arrived at the garden Vende had almost turned green. His face was drawn in the effort to not inhale too deeply. Dawn found it amusing but she also felt a hint sorry for her mate. The telepathy between them had grown stronger and she could sense his nausea. Maybe, in time, he would pick up on her enthusiasm and be able to work in the garden with her.
For now, she decided to put him out of his misery.
“Okay, Vende.” She spoke as soon as they entered the garden. “You can leave the buckets now. I can manage.”
Vende dropped the buckets so fast that something sloshed deep inside. Dawn stepped back quickly as old tea and various other types of garbage juice splashed up high… and splattered Vende’s legs.
Dawn covered her mouth to hide her smile. Vende stood frozen, obviously wanting to wipe the stuff off but not wanting to touch it. He stood there for so long, just completely still and tense, that Dawn began to worry for him.
“Vende? Are you okay?”
Mutely, he shook his head. A drop of murky water flowed off his cheek and his face twisted.
“I—I have to wash!” His voice came out as a dull growl and Dawn sensed the complete disgust of his dragon. Dawn realized he had been fighting his instincts all this time and experienced a hint of remorse.
Before she could apologize, Vende turned and stalked out of the room, his body tense as he headed for the nearest shower. Dawn turned back to the garden, finding a trolley for her buckets, and headed into the rainforest.
The place buzzed with activity. Preor hurried in every direction, moving plants, pots, and digging holes. She went to the main compost pit to supervise the delivery of manure, fertilizer and soil starter sent up by her family.
She had spoken to all of them on a short video call that morning and they were very happy for her. Her mother and father were wary and said they wanted to meet Vende, but her entire family had been supportive of the Preor movement. Her father had often said they might be a good example to human men.
They had not really noticed that her mind was far quicker and her eyes, which used to be dreamy and thoughtful, were now sharp and calculating. She moved differently now that she had confidence. When they shot her a few indulgent looks she realized that no matter what changes occurred, they would still treat her like a child for the rest of her life.
After organizing the main part of the heavy work, she returned to the makeshift lab that was set up at the worktables. She isolated several of the compounds needed and showed Grace and Carla how to do the same. Purely by instinct, Dawn picked plants and processed them, some being pressed and heated for oil, others boiled in water and still more crushed into pulp.
These raw materials were then distilled and put through processes to make them bind together. Eventually, the women had several vials of the vital medicines. All of them were bone weary, filthy, and sweaty and a few bottles of medicine didn’t look like much of an achievement. The women were overjoyed, though, because within forty-eight hours of Dawn’s arrival, it appeared they were beginning to solve the shortage and the Preor would be safe.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Vende stayed in the shower for over half an hour. He had the water as hot as he could possibly stand it and scrubbed so hard he almost took a layer of skin and scales off. Even when he got out of the shower, he could still smell the garbage.
He had raced to the nearest place that had running water in a huge public bathing area between the garden and training room. Not every Preor had his own suite on the ship so lower ranked soldiers still had to use communal sleeping and washing areas.
Vende was able to find a spare pair of katoth pants, but his cross straps had to be cleaned. They were his and they bore his badges of office and honors he had earned over the years. He sat for some time washing and oiling the tanned hide until he made sure not a drop of the evil fluid remained.
When he made it back out on to the main ship, the place was in some chaos. Rendan had not come in to work for some reason. Kozav couldn’t handle things on his own and Taulan was, as usual, nowhere to be found. He was probably hanging on to his daughter’s tail somewhere while she incinerated yet another being.
In a moment of extreme frustration, Vende considered calling ex-War Master Jarek and asking him to work a partial shift. There really would be no one left to run the ship soon if things did not change. Rendan and Kozav slowly failed at their duties and would soon be nonexistent whether they were rostered or not. Zadri had been named new defense master, but he was too caught up with Delaney and their little dragonlet. Ivoth was never a significant presence on the ship so when he disappeared, Vende hardly noticed.
Brukr was also not Vende’s problem. Guarding the tower was not his business. As for Argan, he could stay with Lily King so far as he was concerned. Dropping the charges against him didn’t mean Vende’s dragon wasn’t still insulted. His pride still ached when he thought about how Argan got the better of him.
The worst thing about losing so many senior officers was that Vende now understood why they couldn’t prioritize their work. It was going to become a potentially deadly problem if the chain of command crumbled. They needed to choose new officers or at least have a backup for every m
ain position.
With this in mind, Vende delegated the jobs he hated most—organizing troops, training, and arranging freight. Vende was engineering master because he loved the ship and mechanics. He had never counted on managing other Preor.
He wanted to pass on his idea about training with games to Zadri, but he knew even if he found the damned Preor and asked, no action would be taken. He made a note to himself to order the equipment with Penelope to fit out the room. Then he could pick a good soldier to manage the new program.
A problem with the thrusters had been reported a few days ago and Vende eagerly shoved aside every other job to take this one for himself. He missed wandering inside the walls of the ship where it was dark and quiet. Vende did not like people because they were unpredictable and reactive. Machinery was comforting, but after the morning he had, the darkness of the ship’s engines soothed him far more than usual.
He deliberately turned off his comms so he could focus on the long, thick wires that connected power sources to spark the main engines. He had developed an aversion to crawling around in here after Penelope became the ship’s voice, simply because she would cry out things like “don’t put your hand up my skirt!” every time he removed a circuit board.
Penelope was quiet today, and he was sure it was because she had too much to do on the main ship. The place was in an extra amount of disarray and he knew he must call for a meeting soon.
This trouble with the engines should have been completed days ago. It had been on the job queue, but it had taken him this long to get to the task. Some of the conductors were burned out, and they were literally days away from engine failure. The ship was built with safety buffers, so if the engine failed, they should have enough time to fix it or get her down to a safe distance from land. It didn’t comfort Vende to know this. The job should never have been left this long.
Just as he fitted in the new breakers and wiped grease off his hands, the speakers at the door crackled. Vende sighed, knowing this was another call for him to go somewhere he didn’t want to be. He replaced the panel to the engine and waited by the speaker for instructions.
