~What were we to do? Where were we to go? Do we press forward? Go back? Are we at war, or are we escaping extermination?
I didn’t tell anyone. Not right away. I wasn’t sure whose voice I was hearing ANSWER those questions. It was someone who lived this life before; standing on the side of the space between shadows and death, and something far greater.
Hope.
But, as I started to FEEL what it was that this person experienced, I realized something else. The answers to all of those questions is simply yes.
As long as we do something, we have not lost. As long as we go somewhere, we are alive and free. Forward or backward are merely directions, and we must only move. We are at war against one true enemy only; Death. His face changes, our desire to live does not.
So why didn’t I leave as I started to remember? Simple. The journey.~
Baskylla Jardzen Dzor stands atop a mountain of bodies; Zjeekha, War Queens, the Brruukhal, and many other large or otherwise legendary creatues he has faced. Far below him is the capital city of Grodurra with all of the Grodrrns in history. And, none of them even look.
He looks straight ahead. Standing atop a similar mountain of defeated legends is a face Dzor could never forget. Mrrk’lah, the mutineer who ended a war. The near-mythical Grodrrn looks at Dzor. He says cryptically, “{Lonely, is it not?}”
Dzor replies, “{I do not understand. We’ve defeated foes Chulm’chns warn their hatchlings of. How can we be alone?}”
Mrrk’lah looks down at the crowds minding their business, ignoring the towering monuments of victories.
Suddenly, the two are at ground level, standing before the monument to Mrrk’lah. A plaque reads, “{Miigynn’zyk Gll Mrrk’lah’chn: Soldier Mutineer Haeroczhaa}” Dzor stares at the scratched out titles in a moment of silence. Mrrk’lah then points. Dzor looks to his own mountain of slain foes. “{Nor’ulluch Et Dzor’chn: Baskylla Jardzen Prisoner of War Traitor}”
Pure anger fills Dzor’s soul, but he loses that fire just as quickly when he realizes any perception of his his deeds held by the Fievegal will have him aiding the humans. So… Why doesn’t he regret it?
Mrrk’lah says calmly, “{The Fievegal will write any story they wish of those like us. And, if we live, we are convinced to agree.}” Dzor stares at his plaque for a long time.
Suddenly, human voices surround him. “Kill him!” “Take him down!” “Move!” He looks quickly. The marines, many marines, surround him. But, they are not armed. They are cheering. The words continue, “Cover him!” “Get him backup!” “Baskylla Yarjen.” “Yarjen.” “Hey! Yarjen!” “Thank you, Yarjen.”
He is at a loss for words. An even more familiar female human voice says, “She’s beautiful, Jor.” He whirls, Captain Long is cradling a newly hatched Grodrrn female in her arms. Helmdraavv Khla is kneeling beside Long with a warm smile. Dzor utters without a thought, “Yukonja?”
Mrrk’lah’s voice says from nearby as he stands behind young Grodrrns pretending they are the mutineer himself, “{It’s not the feats that matter when everyone is just trying to survive together. The Fievegal is full of politics. The humans, too. But, they also don’t care about one dead Zarakyssn.}”
Dzor looks again at Long. She smiles softly, asking, “Are you okay, Dzor?” Everything fades away.
Baskylla Jardzen Dzor opens his eyes wearily. His surroundings are strange. Dim, red-colored lights shine down on him. They are not stars in the void of space nor the lights in his conex box. Electronic beeps chirp around him. He shifts minutely to look around. He’s in a human compartment, of this he’s certain. Various machines blink lines of jagged shapes, and they display numbers. A bag hangs near him containing something called ‘Saline’. It has an abundance of other language on it, but he ignores it.
A tiny mammalian hand is resting on his left, with their forearms laying together. Attached to said arm is none other than Captain Long. She is bruised, and her uniform shoulder, the one with her holy symbol, is stained with blood, and the hole reveals blood-stained medical wraps. She is reading a book with numbers before each paragraph.
How is he alive? Is he alive? Or is this a near-death surge of endorphins as his body dies in space? He looks closely at his hand. It’s almost fully healed, but a ring of temporary scar tissue circles his wrist. He closes his hand gently, touching Long’s hand with his index finger. She jumps with a start, sitting up. He now suspects she was asleep. She whirls desperately to face him, looking at his face. She sighs in profound relief. She says tenderly, “Nee-uh, Neelana K-Kurvyll.”
Dzor scoffs weakly. He feels like he has no energy. But, he replies, “Yukonja.”
She smiles warmly. Dzor asks, “Deed… they tich you… what minns? {Did.. .they teach you… what (that) means?}”
Long smirks, replying, “I HOPE it means ‘welcome back’ or ‘welcome awake’, or…”
“Wilcome H-Home,” states Dzor. He flexes his jaw. He can see out of both eyes, and his jaw is only sore. Long’s hand never leaves his, even as she blushes, replying, “I knew it…”
Dzor replies with weary amusement, “Craw treek you?” He hums in approval.
She laughs sarcastically, “Yep. Laugh it up.”
“Thonk… you…” replies Dzor quietly. This prompts her to put both hands on his. She adds sincerely, “No, Dzor. Thank YOU. So, SO much.”
Dzor looks up at the ceiling awkwardly. All hopes of escaping this woman are gone. He doesn’t even want to anymore. He replies, “I keel oon Zarakyssn. You obvious save sheep.”
She scoffs, “So much went on… Everyone worked together…”
Dzor nods in agreement. She then sits up to ask, “Are you alright?”
Dzor replies dryly, “Clear bitter thonn wuz.”
She chuckles, replying, “Fair. But, next time, be a little more careful, please? We don’t know how to recharge your power cells yet, and so, we had to swap regenerators three times on you.” She adds more quietly, “You had me worried sick.”
“Thonk you…” replies Dzor. She looks away, saying somewhat sourly, “You’re supposed to say you’re sorry.”
The Grodrrn shakes his head, “Thonk you… for… saving…” He’s struggling to pronounce her words deliberately and correctly.
She looks at him again. She smiles and nods sincerely.
He then relaxes, asking more coldly, “Omm preeznor again?”
She replies, “You’re going to call me silly and naïve, but… no.” He looks at her in shock. Now that she mentions it, there is no posted guard in the room, which has other humans on beds like his with machines. But, no guards. Long adds, “If… if you… um…” She sighs. “I’m asking you not to do anything, Jor. But… you’re free. From now on.”
Dzor chuckles. “You correct. Virr na-eeve.”
She smirks, replying, “If you think that’s naïve, wait until you see who wants to see you in the hangar.”
“Who?” asks the Jardzen. Former Jardzen? Whatever he is.
She teases, “You’ll see.”
He grunts. Yep. His feet work. He sits up suddenly, startling her to a standing position. She cries out, “No! Dzor, wait! You’re too weak!”
He growls deeply and menacingly, startling her a little. He states gravely, “Nivor call weak again.”
“You know what I mean! You need rest.”
Dzor grunts, pulling the wires and tubes off of him. He retorts, “I omm Grodrrn. I weel die on feet.”
She barks, “You won’t die at all if you stay in bed!”
He walks wearily out of his medical room into the main bay. Long follows closely, her objections unheeded.
Dzor stumbles and nearly falls. The female human is there, catching his shoulder. But, she groans with strain. Other humans jog towards them, but he stands, and Long complains, “If you really fall, I don’t think I can catch you!”
Dzor snaps back, “I not fake to test you!”
She looks at him, confused, asking, “What?”
“Nothing.” He continues toward the hangar. She stays by his side. She says more sternly, “Dzor, I’m serious. Rest. The surprise can wait.”
“I omm Baskylla Yarjen Jor. Only sooprise I wait for eez death.”
She tries to push his torso, but even in his current state, he is far stronger than her. He does slow to a stop, though. She relaxes, saying, “Please, Jor. For me.”
He replies, “Riginorator more efficteev weeth hee-er blood flow. Sit een bed slow.” That’s a lie, but he hopes she doesn’t know better. Grodrrns do tend to heal more noticeably on their feet, and they are notoriously easily driven stir-crazy as prisoners, especially after finally being granted freedom after months of being one.
He continues on his way to the hangar. He is actually testing her. She’ll either let him go, or she’ll order him detained. Instead, she simply follows him. Humans duck out of his way in the hallways, not necessarily in fear, but because of his size. Some, mostly marines, greet him a little nervously, “Yarjen Jor.”
He glances at them, but doesn’t say anything. Grodrrns greet the individual they intend to speak to. Such greetings of passing seem unnecessary, and yet… Dzor will figure out his thoughts later. He wishes to know if this ‘surprise’ is Helmdraavv Khla or the marines who helped him defeat the Zjeekha.
Long keeps up with Dzor, saying warmly to those in passing, “Good afternoon. Please excuse us.”
“Yes, Captain,” comes many of the replies.
Dzor doesn’t look at her, but he is paying attention. It is curious, watching the commander of this ship interact with even her most inferior subordinates so casually. The humans are working diligently to rebuild the ship. He passes some with tools, others working in teams to move plating or other materials.
And, as they reach the hangar entrance, he notices something else. True to her word, not a single armed soldier is following them. He could do anything in the time it would take them to react. Not even Long is armed.
As he plots what all he could do, though, he spots the surprise more easily than a Zjeekha wearing a flashing suit.
Helmdraavv Khla is present, speaking with her very own Chulm’chn, Baskylla Jardzen Khla. For months, Khla’s battleship has pursued the human fleet. Now, he and his shocktroopers, as well as Niolajt Jardzen Mrff, are standing in the hangar bay as honored guests.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Khla spots Dzor, and he smiles warmly. He walks briskly over with a warm growl, and Dzor feels a warm pride and energy fill him. He walks more briskly towards Khla.
Just as they’re about to collide, though, Long darts between them holding her hands up to halt them. She shouts, “Not so fast!” Both Grodrrn Baskylla Jardzens manage to halt in surprise, and the auburn-haired human says more calmly to Khla, “Headbutting your own daughter was one thing, Baskylla Yarjen, but Baskylla Yarjen Jor is still recovering. Please, not right now.”
Khla looks at her and then at Dzor. Dzor doesn’t make eye contact, but he nods subtly. Khla smiles, replying to her, “Understood, hoomin Copton.” He nods at her, and then he says warmly to Dzor, “{Jor! It’s so good to see you alive. When Neezha left the message, it was a great relief.}”
Dzor replies, “{Indeed so. Thank you. I am surprised to see you here, now.}”
Khla smirks, replying, “{The humans are graciously repairing our ship.}” He gestures, and Dzor looks out the window to see Khla’s battleship being worked on in the mobile drydock ship known to the humans as ‘Providence’. On either side of the port arm are two of the smaller human ships being repaired as well.
Dzor starts to tease in Grodrrn, “{You’re not worried…}” He stops when he notices Long step politely over to the side, saying nothing about the discussion going on essentially literally over her head, as well as figuratively. She folds her hands together patiently behind her back and watches idly. Without much thought, Dzor switches to human, “You not worrid hoomins steal ticknology?”
Khla glances at Long, and then Dzor. Long is surprised at Dzor, but with a pleasant expression. He replies, “No. Hoomin Feemahl Sceeunteest Lopiz have much alread on compootor. Ond, she oonderstond bitter thonn most of ooss.”
Dzor chuckles, “Becooz oof my sheep…”
Khla nods. “Regardless, we all enemies oov Zarakyssns. Temporarih truce benefeets all.”
“Temporarih?” asks Dzor.
Khla hums affirmation. “Een ixchonge for Grodurn preeznors ond reparr aid, we release hoomin preeznors recovered on Earth, ozz well ozz allow retreat. Neezha, unfortunately, weel be staying preeznor.” Khla looks at Long. She fills in, “We’re worried about how the Fievegal will respond to Helmdraav Craw’s pregnancy, as well as her ability to continue to reproduce.”
Khla adds, “Addeshunal, hoomins prepared to make medeecal adjoostmints for ixperiments ond ensure seeftee oov Neezha.” Dzor looks at Helmdraav Khla, who nods with a smile.
Jardzen Khla then adds, “Our riport descreebs jointed iffort to eescopp mooltiple teems, eencluding stolinn secoorit foot-… foot-… data showing your hostill to hoomin persons. We pritict ond see you re-eenstot-…” “No,” says Dzor bluntly and sternly.
Both Khla and Long look at Dzor in surprise. He looks away from them both. Dzor says finally, “I omm preeznor. I-…”
Long whispers sharply, “Dzor!” He looks at her, and she shakes her head. He can hear her heart just started racing, though, and her expression isn’t cautious or afraid; it’s saddened.
Dzor straightens his posture as much as his achy muscles will allow. He says sternly, “I omm stay.”
Khla growls, “Theess eez not joke, Yarjen. You can coom bock to Fievegal weeth honor. I see to eet pers-…” “NO,” repeats Dzor stoically.
Long snaps, “ARE YOU CRAZY!?”
Dzor booms at her, “I HAVE DECEEDED, YUKONJ-…” He stops, realizing the other Grodrrns know that word well.
She turns, saying to Khla, “Can we have a moment, Yarjen?”
Khla looks at Dzor, and then at Long. He nods, smiling civilly. He turns and walks back to Mrff and Neezha, who are speaking to Laurel.
Long says softly to Dzor, “Jor, please… This… This is hard enough for me... But, this is your life; your career. Everything you worked for. You can be Baskylla Yarjen for the Fievegal once more. You can-…”
Dzor cuts her off with, “I have deceeded, Yukonja. The Fievegal doesn’t care about oon more dead Zarakyssyn, no more thon eet does oon more dead Yarjen.”
Long replies, “But… What about your home? Your… bondmate?”
Dzor looks away from the human. Why must her mind consider so much? He says quietly, “She weel move on.” Their bond isn’t as close as it once was, and made even weaker after the Saurmynnyka died. The last message his bondmate sent said that the Fievegal even went out of the way to send a notification that their egg rights application was denied by reason of the Saurmynnyka’s assassination. As if any Grodrrn was unaware.
Long asks, now holding the cross on her shoulder, “How can you-…?” “We dreeft apart long teem, now.”
She looks down, “A few months ago, you were ready to fight to the death to escape and return. Where’re the insults? The threats?”
Dzor is surprised. He would, in Long’s position, not even question if she wanted to stay as his prisoner. He decides to try a different tactic. He crosses his arms, saying proudly, “Real rizzon? Hoomins are weak. Grodurn ond Hotchleeng should not be geeven less thonn Grodurn protickshun.”
Long chuckles, which is what he wants, but her mood doesn’t improve. Dzor tries to think. He’s not even sure, himself, how to put it into words. In his dream, it felt so clear and simple. But, then, humans often communicate even the clear and simple.
Dzor painstakingly sinks to a kneel before Captain Long, clutching his abdomen. She looks at him with surprise. Their gazes are level now. He says gently, “For long teem, I feet bleend. I slay enemies of the Fievegal, but I nivor feel preed. Tallist montans oov glorih ond victory are onlih lonely place for die. For first teem… I feel preed. Ond… no more lonely…” Dzor looks at Khla and his Zhi. They are talking jovially. He looks at the humans. Some are working, some are eating, some are resting. Almost all of them are doing so with others.
He finally feels like he KNOWS why Grodrrns desire to become Chulm’chns, deep in their cores. A Zhi or a Myzh is the ONLY Grodrrn in the Fievegal who doesn’t see anything political or opportunistic in the Chulm’chn. It’s a bond that can’t be broken. Even if Neezha stays, Jardzen Khla will be bound to her, and she to him. No distance, perceived treachery, or even death will affect their core feelings for each other.
Dzor looks Long in the eyes, saying softly, “I OSK to stay.”
Long slides her hand up to clutch her holy symbol, a gesture she makes when she’s trying to comfort herself or reconcile her thoughts. She asks, “But… don’t you get it? We’re still not allies of the Fievegal. YOU can go, right now. No hard feelings. If you stay, there are NO guarantees. What we just escaped… We have no way of knowing what’s next. We have to stay on the run until we can solve our endless problems. And then, it’s just new problems. Do you really want that?”
Dzor nods. He says softly, “Stroogle togethor eez bittor thonn any glorih alone.”
“If…” She struggles for words. She settles on, “There may be no going back. I-If you do this… the Fievegal…”
Dzor says more proudly, “All oov problems seem mean fleet could use greatest warrior on sheep stay. Fievegal did not come for me. Craw deed. Ond, not even for me specifeek. Hoomins reesk lives to aid. I weel feet for future. Oov hoomins, oov Craw ond her hotchleengs, ond even bravv poraseet queen. No more discussion. I stay.”
Long sighs. After a moment, she nods, finally smiling softly. She takes a breath and says proudly and fearlessly to Baskylla Jardzen Khla, “Baskylla Yardzen Craw. I must refuse to relinquish custody of Baskylla Yarjen Jor. The nature of his participation –voluntarily or involuntarily- in our experiments requires his input as a control. If we relinquish him now, much of our work-” A Grodrrn shocktrooper snarls at her, “YOU INFERIOR MOMMOL! YOU DARR SPICK TO BAS-”
“{Enough,}” grunts Khla, halting the shocktrooper. He smiles cryptically, asking, “Con I do notheeng to chonj meend?”
He appears to be asking Long, but his gaze is with Dzor. Long looks back at Dzor, who shakes his head subtly. She replies to Khla respectfully, “I’m afraid not, Yarjen.”
Khla approaches them, and Dzor stands back up. Though both Grodrrns tower over her, she stands unintimidated. Khla stares into Dzor’s eyes, and then down into Long’s. He smiles and replies, “Baskylla Yarjen Jor… Protect mih Zhi. Someday, I eentind to see again.”
Dzor nods.
Khla then says, “Hoomin Copton Long. Walk.” Khla whirls and starts walking. She glances at Dzor, and he nods her to follow. She jogs into step with the Baskylla Jardzen. Khla walks to the Zarakyssn plasma door, looking at an angle at his own ship. Long stops beside him.
The Grodrrn commandant turns his head to look at her. He asks softly, “You treat ozz own?”
Long smiles, replying warmly, “Helmdraaff Craw, yes. Him, I intend to give the biggest gun we can find.”
Khla snorts. He requests, “Take care of. They deserve honor.”
Long nods, “I will.”
Khla then faces her fully, raising his hand to cradle the sun. He says proudly, “Verr well, Hoomin Copton Long. I conseedor equal.”
Long glances at Dzor, and he subtly raises his hand in the salute, and she takes the cue to raise her hand. She copies Khla, replying, “Thank you, Baskylla Yarjen Craw.” He smiles and nods. She then asks, “Take good care of Laurel, too, please.”
Khla nods. He then announces, “After mooch pursuit, we were able to recover all boot two oov our own. We moost retorn to Fievegal space to resupply.”
Another Helmdraav, captured by the humans, steps forward. She’s older than Neezha, but similar in size. She states, “Baskylla Yarjen! I riquist… err… uh… the hoom ixpareemint… I… I was to be next, Yarjen.”
Khla cocks his head in surprise. Before he can ask, several more Grodrrns, two males and the last female captured, step forward. Again, just before he can respond, a male helmdraav and a male shocktrooper step forward.
Khla simply laughs, tapping his foot jovially. He looks at Mrff, asking, “{Thoughts?}”
Mrff looks at the former captives apparently wanting to stay. He thinks silently and expressionlessly for a moment. After, he states, “I beelivv hoomin fleet destroy een Zarakyssn battle. We rescue only seengle shootle oov sorvivors, who managed to copture one hoomin;” He gestures at Laurel. “Should benefit all.”
Khla nods. He’s not particularly worried about his other subordinates confessing the truth because the Fievegal still will get what it wants, and they’ll all be treated as heroes.
Khla then announces in Grodrrn, “{We will leave when my battleship is finished. Know where to be on that day.}”
Long walks back over to Dzor with a content smile. She asks, though, “You’re sure about this?”
He snorts, insisting bluntly, “Discussion over.”
Long chuckles, replying warmly, “It’s… You’re unbelievable.”
“I hovv yit to lie to you.” Maybe just the one little one, but technically, it’s true.
“I know. I mean… You surprised me.” She then teases, “And, you know, if you stay, you can’t make good on your threat.”
“What threat?”
“To steal a ship and drag me back to Grodurra.”
Dzor thinks back. He doesn’t recall explicitly saying that. Technically, she offered herself in trade for him to let her attempt to cure Khla’s sterility. He replies, “Thot was your promeess eef fail.”
She frowns, “Hmm… Right.”
Dzor stands straight, though, stating, “If teem allows, I keep promeess.”
Long smirks in surprise. She asks, “Really?”
The Grodrrn scoffs, “Incissant Yukonja.”
A male human voice calls out, “Long! Bring those rifles over here! Stack them. We need to check for damage.”
Dzor looks. A marine seems to have called out, but no one is looking their way. He asks, “Soomwoon call for you?”
Long looks, “Hm? Oh! No. That’s Chief Grey. He must’ve been calling my sister.”
Dzor instantly walks towards them, and Captain Long calls out, “Wait!” as she jogs after him.
Chief Grey is on crutches with his leg in a cast, watching and organizing weapons, including Grodrrn and Zarakyssn weapons. Grey and the female Chief Tachibana both look, saluting as they say, “Captain. Yarjen.” Long salutes them back, saying, “At ease.”
Grey then adds, “Looking fit, Yarjen. Glad to see it.”
Dzor nods. He asks, “You recover?”
Grey chuckles, “In time, unfortunately. I’ll have to go back to working.”
Tachibana and Long chuckle. A younger female human with the same hair color as Long approaches, stacking rifles. Without a word, Dzor steps past the Chiefs to stand before the young human. She jumps with a start. Her scent places her as the female who covered Grey and his companion first when they fitted Dzor with a regenerator. She says nervously, “B-Baskylla Yarjen J-Jor, right? I’m happy you’re okay.”
Dzor nods. He says gruffly, “YOU are Copton Long’s seestor?”
She nods, squeaking, “Ye-yes.” She glances at her three seniors, who are watching. Dzor replies, “She discreeb kind girl. I think you weak.”
The girl frowns, saying softly, “Oh…”
Captain Long steps up, saying, “He means ‘thought’, Jess. He THOUGHT you were weak. Right Jor?”
Dzor nods in agreement, clarifying, “Oonteel hilp feet Zjeekha.”
The teen blushes, replying sheepishly, “Oh! Um th-thank you, Yarjen. B-But you did all the real fighting. Th-Thank you… especially for protecting Angelica. Um! The Captain.”
Dzor looks at Captain Long, who explains, “Angelica is my personal name. Long is our shared family name. This is Jessica. My younger sister.”
Dzor nods at Jessica. He catches an even stranger smell, though. He smells traces of the parasite queen, but also a stronger scent like her. He sniffs Jessica more closely, and she tenses up. The Jardzen states bluntly, “You carry an egg of-…” Captain Long elbows him, and he winces in surprise. He growls, but she explains, “Sorry. But, it’s not common knowledge, Yarjen.”
Jessica asks, “Um, i-if I may, Yarjen… You could tell just by smelling?”
Dzor nods. “Sootle odor. Like Poraseet Queen.”
Tachibana corrects, “We call her the Cave Queen, Yarjen.”
“Not her name?” asks Dzor curiously.
Tachibana shakes her head. “Her kind don’t use names. She’s content with and answers to Cave Queen.”
“Does your hand hurt Yarjen?” asks Jessica. Dzor looks down at her, and then it. He replies, “No longer.”
“That’s good. Um… So… You’re staying… with us?”
Dzor nods.
Jessica smiles. “Angie-um-Captain Long might not say it, Yarjen, but…” Captain Long clears her throat sternly, but the younger sister finishes, “She’s very happy.”
Dzor looks down at the elder sister, who now won’t make eye contact with him as she growls impotently at Jessica.
Chief Grey chuckles, replying, “Damn! Called RIGHT out.”
Angelica growls to Grey, “As soon as you’re healed, you’re on toilet duty forever.”
He chuckles, replying, “Yes Captain.”
Dzor has a lot to learn about the friendly aspects of human behavior. But, he is determined to learn for once. Did he make the right choice?
Discussion over.
***