Dzor watches the door open to his containment box before Khla is led back in. She brings two meals, and the humans lock the door behind her.
The surprisingly trusting humans don't even bind Khla's hands anymore, allowing her free reign of the containment box. For the last few meal cycles, she has been feeding Dzor so he doesn't have to eat off of the serving dish like an animal, as the humans have -rather wisely- expressed that his hands are unlikely to be unbound anytime soon. What they don't know is the full capacity of their captives.
Khla approaches Dzor. Once again, the meals are EXTREMELY basic, with a very bland and plain meat, and some kind of repulsive plant-based meat substitute. But, between the two items, the meal barely touches Dzor's building hunger, which is why he's careful about his temper tantrums now. The electrical component of his bindings, which he learned of the hard way, sap his strength and paralyze him briefly when activated. The humans use it on him only when he struggles most ferociously.
Dzor is now carefully biding his time, ensuring to employ his most extensive technique; a technique he knows will work in time. He's seen it in action.
Dzor accepts the food Khla feeds him, and only a moment passes before his is gone. Khla has even less, undoubtedly a cruel prioritization by the humans based on her size, even though she tirelessly helps them.
As Khla relaxes to eat her meal, Dzor growls, "[Even appeasement still leaves you prisoner.]"
Khla pauses, but she says nothing. She keeps nibbling on her meager portions. Dzor grumbles, "[You'd think they could reward you even a little.]"
Again, Khla pauses. She says softly, "[You don't understand, Yarjen...]"
He replies bluntly, "[I understand a false domicile. They have convinced you that this meager tiding is all you deserve. They fear your strength, and so...]"
"[Their entire fleet is rationing, Yarjen.]" retorts Khla bluntly. "[I have seen it. They have barely enough to feed their people. They over-populated these ships. Frustration and anger are simmering, abated only by a lack of energy.]"
Dzor scoffs, "[Their soldiers don't seem to be lacking.]"
Khla sets her plate down with one small piece remaining. She seems to have lost some of her color. She asks softly, "[Who do you think has been sharing with us, Yarjen?]"
Dzor's face twists in confusion. He replies, "[We are useful prisoners of war. Of course they...]"
"[They don't, though. They asked for volunteers because they know they don't have enough. Their... soldiers... Even after everything. SOLDIERS came forward to spare a little for each of us... Otherwise, they could o-only... feed...]" She trails off.
Dzor is silent for a long time. He is humbled, truly. He is more prone to believe it precisely because the humans have given him no signs of their struggles, nor do they seem to tell Khla anything directly. Khla fidgets with the remnants of her meal.
Dzor jokes, "[Worst case arises, I'm sure humans are edible.]" However, this only causes Khla to sink a little more.
Dzor looks at an arbitrary corner away from her, saying more gently, "[Eat your meal, Craw. Worse than the situation itself would be to waste their... kindness.]" He can't believe he's using that word, but... even he is realizing the humans aren't as simple or barbaric as he once believed. He still intends to free himself at all costs, but... There are worse captors in the universe.
Khla looks at him, a little surprised. Dzor growls, "[My scales turn blue, Helmdraff?]"
She looks sheepishly away, squeaking, "[No Yarjen! Apologies!]"
Dzor lays his head back to rest once Khla finishes her meal. His chance is coming. Let her do what she's doing. She's keeping more than herself alive, which is admirable. They also don't appear to be manipulating Khla. They only ask for her help in a field she's rather skilled in, surprisingly.
With each following day after, Dzor takes a brief moment to smell the food before Khla feeds it to him. Some of the human scents are familiar. At least one of them was on his ship, maybe even a few of them. That part is even more strange to him. Not only are soldiers sacrificing meals for him and the other Grodrrns, but ones who have fought against them more than once.
Dzor has read that humans experience guilt rather easily. Perhaps the mammals feel guilty for the Grodrrns? A foolish belief with no place in war. Enemies are enemies. No exceptions. When you stop treating them as such, you risk hesitating when they won't.
But, Dzor is honorable. If he crosses paths with these humans, he will give them the sporting chance to flee from him. Not too long, of course. The humans are too crafty to give too much time to strategize. But, some, at least.
For now, Dzor keeps his mind on his own task. Not even Khla knows what Baskylla Jardzens are taught. It is risky, brazen, and painful, but has a high success rate nonetheless. Still, he cannot include her. If she knows, and he fails, she likely won't be spared.
He's still a ways off anyways. It takes time. And, captivity affords him nothing but time.
********
"Cheers!" states Mr. Right jovially as he pops the cork of what was once simply a very expensive wine worth over $1000 a bottle. Now, he is popping open an irreplaceable commodity. And, he's doing so on the Polonia's command bridge.
Captain Long looks at him in exasperation and sarcasm as he pours a glass. She's sitting in her chair with her hand on her cheek.
Ensign Hancock asks innocently as Dr. Lopez keeps her face buried in her laptop, "What's the occasion, Sir?"
Mr. Right replies jovially, "You mean aside from finding Dr. Lopez here?"
She looks away from him. It's been about two weeks since the discovery mission on the ice planetoid and the subsequent surveys of the full belt. The mining barges have been hard at work, finally resuming their designed purpose. While the 'spring eel' and the 'hollows hopper' are far from edible livestock, their blood and hides are being studied for suit enhancements. Both are plentiful in the belt as a whole.
Mr. Right adds proudly, "The keel is laid for our next starship! Our journey is well on its way!" He offers the glass to Captain Long. She glances at it and then at him, fully perturbed. She growls, "I don't drink."
Mr. Right feigns offense, saying, "MADAME! You wound me! One does not simply 'drink' fine wine. One ENJOYS fine wine."
Long growls brutally, "One will be 'enjoying' fine wine in Yarjen Dzor's containment unit if one doesn't..."
"Okay! Geez!" Mr. Right backs off. He states quietly, "More for me, then, I guess..."
Long asks skeptically, "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself as well? Construction will take years."
"MONTHS," corrects Mr. Right with a smirk. "My baby Providence works from all angles simultaneously. Not to mention the lack of bureaucracy. If this takes more than six months," He announces to everyone, "Bear witness, everyone! If this new ship takes more than six months," He says more charmingly, "I will give you what is most precious to me."
Long only notices because Hancock looked. What he looked at was Lopez, who silently glares away from Mr. Right. Captain Long doesn't care how or why, but she does like Dr. Lopez a fair amount more than Mr. Right.
Long retorts to Mr. Right bluntly to off balance him, "You have nothing I want."
Mr. Right tries to reply suavely, "What about the sexiest sports car ever built?"
Long smirks, countering smugly, "Actually, that WOULD be great. I could finally scrap that hood ornament."
Mr. Right recoils with a dramatic gasp as he clutches his heart. He replies, "You fiend!" Still refusing to give up, though, he replies warmly, "Beautiful, strong-willed, and fierce! You, M'lady, are worth the fight."
She interjects, "No I'm not."
"But you are! One day, I will prove my love for you!"
"That's not in question."
"Then I will earn..."
"Mr. Right." He halts, and she continues, "As you saw when you walked in, I was being briefed by Dr. Lopez about her progress on several technologies. As you surely know, that will not continue with too many people in the room. Please celebrate the new keel in non-military zones as is laid out in our policy. Once the ship is complete in six months or less, I will then celebrate with you. Not before the eggs are even laid."
Mr. Right grins, "I'll hold you to that, my Captain."
She waves him away. Mr. Right exits cheerfully, dancing goofily as he walks.
Once he exits, Dr. Lopez squeaks sheepishly, "A-Actually, Captain,... I... finished m-my brief..."
Long smirks, "I know. But YOU don't annoy me. You're welcome here for work any time."
Lopez blushes and tries to shrink behind her screen a little more. She squeaks, "Th-thank you, Captain."
Long nods. She then asks Hancock, "Hancock, please use your head when Mr. Right asks anything of you."
Hancock smirks and nods, replying respectfully, "Always do, Ma'am. I officially answer to Doc Lopez, and only her."
Long smiles when Lopez squirms sheepishly again. Long is thankful to Lopez for everything the deceptively young genius has accomplished, but she's more thankful she has Hancock. Worse than losing Lopez in battle would be losing her to depression.
Long nods, "Good. If you ever need anything, let me know." Long ensures to lock eye contact when the scientist glances at her. Long adds sincerely, "Anything."
Lopez looks down. Whatever her issues with Mr. Right, she'll deal with them her own way eventually. Long just hopes it's a proper way.
There's a quiet pause. Long smiles gently, starting to turn. But, Lopez catches everyone by surprise when she blurts out, "Um!"
Long looks back at her, asking, "Yes?"
Lopez hesitates, fidgeting with her hands at the top of her laptop screen. She nervously fidgets in silence for a long time. Long asks gently, "Would you like to talk in private, Doctor?"
Lopez nods. Long says, "Let's step in the back room. Warmer in there anyways."
Lopez follows Long but hesitates, glancing back at Hancock. He gestures at himself, and she nods subtly. Hancock follows as well.
Long closes the door behind them, urging gently, "Take your time, Doctor. You can tell me anything here. Won't leave this room by me."
Hancock confirms, "Me either, of course."
Lopez nods. She fidgets a long time again. But, finally, she asks quietly, "Do... you have family onboard, Captain?"
Long nods gently, replying, "Only my sister, Jessica." There's a pause after Lopez nods quietly. Long asks gently, "How... about you, Doctor?"
Lopez nods, but doesn't say who. Thinking, Long says gently, "I miss my parents, even though I didn't get along with them. I thank God every day that Jessica came to live with me when she did."
Lopez murmurs distantly, "'God'... I don't believe in God... M-Maybe that's why..."
"NO." states Long sternly. "I believe in God. But, God is not spiteful. Faith is what you need it to be, but the world happens as it does. WE must live in it."
Lopez's eyes water, and Long winces. Maybe she was too preachy. Jessica always hated if Angelica got preachy about right and wrong, even if Angelica tried to be fairly neutral.
But, Lopez whimpers, "He was supposed to bring her... He promised me..."
"Who?" asks Long.
Lopez cries out, "Mama!" before she slips into uncontrollable sobs. Long fumbles movements, unsure what to do. She glances at Hancock, who is also hesitant.
Captain Angelica Long has never been a mother. At this point, she's unsure if she'll ever be. But, she IS a big sister, and every fiber of her being compels her to do one thing.
Long hugs Dr. Lopez, holding firmly to the young woman. Lopez sobs into Long's collar, crying more than anyone thought she had in her. Lopez has always been rather quiet and guarded with her emotions. But now,...
Lopez's knees slowly give way, and Long eases both of them to their knees gently. The auburn-haired captain urges tenderly, "Let it out, Lopez. Talk to me. Tell me what happened."
Lopez sobs. She chokes out, "H-He pr-promised... he was sending... a jet for her!"
"Who promised? Mr. Right?"
Lopez sobs uncontrollably, unable to answer. Long glances at Hancock, who whispers silently, "[I think so...]"
Long strokes Lopez's back, holding firmly. She says sternly, "Don't worry, Doctor. I'll summon him back up here and..."
"N-No!" cries out Lopez. She chokes and gasps through trying to calm her breathing enough to say, "H-He's a-a-all I have left... P-P-Please... I... I just..." She winces as she tries to hold back new tears.
Long smiles gently and sighs. "Very well... Cry all you need, Doctor. We're here."
Lopez whimpers as she holds Long's uniform shirt tightly, "I-I'm sorry..."
Long replies tenderly though, "Don't be. Don't know why on Earth you'd choose me, but... I'm happy to help. I don't know much outside of the military, but I do think I'm a pretty good big sister."
Lopez relaxes a little, nodding in agreement. "Thank you..."
"Don't mention it. If... you don't mind, tell me your mother's name."
Lopez softens, whimpering, "Please don't..."
Long gently strokes the black-haired scientist's back. "I won't today, Doctor. But, he's going to finish the ship on time. Let me sour any smugness he might..."
Long softens. She realizes what's wrong with the whole idea. She whispers, "Forgive me, Doctor. I... I can't believe I wanted to..." Long swallows hard, "I'd like to know her name, truly, but I will NOT use her name for petty revenge. I'm sorry. I know another way I can smack down Russell."
Lopez pauses. She whispers softly, "Anna Maria. Anna Maria Francesca Lopez..."
Long smiles, replying tenderly, "That's a beautiful name."
Lopez whispers, "I miss her so much..."
"I know..." replies Long gently. "There are too many people I miss too. All we can do for them now is to keep going. I believe we'll meet back up with them all too soon, but for now, we have a purpose. Chief to that is keeping our loved ones alive in memory, if nothing else."
Lopez nods softly. "Thank you, Captain Long..."
Long nods. "Any time, Doctor."
The two sit together for a long moment. Lopez murmurs a little sourly, "I... at least wish he valued me as much as that dumb car..."
Long replies as she gently strokes Lopez's hair, "Leave the car to me, Doctor. But, I do think he values you. He's just an idiot at showing it."
Lopez looks away briefly, prompting Long to add, "Either way; I value you."
Lopez blushes, "Thank you."
It takes a little longer before Lopez is ready to return to her work. She occupies a small corner of the bridge, huddling on the floor.
Long doesn't mind her presence one bit. Better here than on the Providence where Long's valid concerns get deflected. Although, she'd likely have done the same if she were in Murdock's position.
It worked out for now. But, as she looks out the window at the dark void speckled with light, she wonders just what other challenges -or enemies- are in store for them all.
********
~An irony of space is that life -and even sentient life- was not as difficult to find as we as a species once thought. And, perhaps hoped. I don't think it could or even should have gone differently. So many variables change with each and every 'what if'. The full consequences would be impossible to predict.
What is important is how we live our lives in the now. It took a long time for my past to finally restore to me, but I sustained myself in this life by living in the now. That's all my fellow soldiers had, so it was fair that it was all I knew as well. The only real difference of course was how many times I've found myself in the Navy. Made it easy to remember, of course.
But, I will always understand WHY Chief Grey snapped the way he did. The creation of the T.E.A.U. was a time of NEW. New discoveries, new opportunities, and, of course, new dangers. Not everyone can face those new things face to face. And, it's something else to achieve that kind of achievement.~
Captain Long watches the Drydock Providence as it floats, dead. She's not panicking. Captain Murdock called ahead to inform the other Captains he was about to do it. They're running a 'dead in space' drill.
Of course, this dead in space drill comes two weeks before the deadline Mr. Right set on completion of the newest ship. The new starliner is impressive, of course. It has dedicated artillery turrets, as well as upscaled Grodurn laser turrets. Dzor was unimpressed, which means the real Grodurn weapons have better ability, but Dr. Lopez hasn't disappointed Long in the least.
And, of course, the drill may be occurring to aid Captain Long's odds at a running bet. Captain Murdock puts up with Mr. Right, but he was happy to participate in this particular mischief. Mr. Right can be charming, but he lays it on too thick, trying to get what he wants. He seems to think flattery has replaced money, and he tries to grease wheels and palms with empty words.
Fortunately, his lack of respect for procedure works well against him. Mr. Right rarely communicates his schedule up the chain, suddenly loading the electrical grid with the new ship's heavy loads or testing weaponry without warning. So, when the Providence does Navy drills 'conveniently' during the new ship's service water pressurization, and is set behind more than a day, Mr. Right can fume all he wants, but, he can prove nothing. He passes nothing up, so nothing gets passed down to him.
Long is grateful the ship is almost complete, though. While the human fleet lost hundreds due to the EMP of the jump, many infants were on the way and have been born. And, life will undoubtedly progress anyways.
The auburn haired Captain turns to the computer screen and presses '[connect]'. The picture lights up with Jardzen Dzor's cell, and the large reptilian is sitting alone. Helmdravv Khla is teaching pilots how to pilot the Grodurn light shuttles.
Over the last few months, Captain Long has been visiting with Dzor to extend an olive branch of respect to the captured ship commander. Like Long, he is a high ranking officer, and he could very likely teach her things only he knows. The captive Grodurns are very quiet about their physiology, including their longevity, but many of the humans documenting as much as possible have come to independent conclusions. Everyone agrees that Dzor is at least 100 years old, and he isn't the oldest captive. Khla on the other hand, seems to have the personal and moral flexibility of a teenager, though her age may be mid thirties to mid forties or so.
Dzor often talks at least a little with Captain Long, if only out of boredom. He's abrasive and intentionally calls her 'hoomin', even though she has introduced herself multiple times. But, he at least talks, which counts for something.
As usual, he is in his deep slumber to conserve energy. Captain Long attempts the greeting Khla taught her, "Jinntarick, mm-mrrullk, Yarjen Jor. [Warm breezes today, Jardzen Dzor.]" Captain Long stammered the second word. The deeper sounds Grodurns can make are extremely difficult to emulate. It took her dozens of tries with Khla to get even close.
Dzor replies, indicating his sleep wasn't so deep today, "Yoor veess hozz no reenj. Ond yuu preenonce leek hotchleeng. [Your voice has no range. And you pronounce like hatchling.]"
Long smirks, retorting, "Be nice, Yarjen. I give you a lot on your pronunciations."
Dzor snorts. He doesn't say anything, but she suspects it may actually be somewhat approving when he snorts like that. If he's offended, he growls, which can be chilling to hear. He opens one eye to look at the screen showing her face to him.
Long asks, "Did you read the instructions for chess like I asked, Yarjen?" She can just see the corner of the large sheets taped to the wall in the camera's field of view.
The reptile closes his eye and snorts again. "I hoff bitter theengs tuu duu thonn rid obot hoomin strotigee geems forr offspreeng. [I have better things to do than read about human strategy games for offspring.]"
Long smirks. She intentionally didn't tell Dzor what chess was to catch him just like this. True, he could continue sleeping his days away, but she suspects even that is getting to someone like him. She can tell he's intelligent, which means his mind craves stimulation. He doesn't have to sleep or hibernate to survive right now. Plus, talking lets him learn about the humans, too, which she KNOWS he's interested in.
Long replies warmly, "Good! I'm glad you read them. We're going to play and talk today."
Dzor rolls his jaw from side to side once. From what she knows, this is his slightly annoyed gesture. She's okay for now. Long picks up the game set, crafted with foam set pieces with small magnets in the base. The guards photograph and inventory every piece carefully. Everyone knows Dzor, of all of the captive Grodurns, is the highest escape risk. But, he's also rather honorable, it seems.
Long is escorted into Dzor's containment box, and she sits down. A line of tape on the floor shows where Dzor's longest reach ends. She feels a little bad that he has nothing in his cell except the vacuum tube for his waste functions. But, he is incredibly strong and dangerous. Just what he could throw could kill a person.
Dzor growls deeply, reminding Long of an alligator. It's deep and rumbling, and she can hear the guard's hands tighten on his weapon behind her. But, Long calls his bluff. He won't hurt her. Not while he's chained up and not while a dozen armed soldiers are right outside.
Long straightens the pieces out and turns the white to Dzor. She states, "I taught my sister how to play when I was still living at home. I'm no champion or anything, but I'm pretty good. Let's see what you've got." She makes her first move by moving the pawn in front of her left bishop one space forward. She slides the board into more comfortable reach for him.
Dzor looks at the board with only his vertical-pupil eye open, and then at Long. He says in a low voice, "Yuu already lohze, hoomin. Fooleesh mohve. [You already lose, human. Foolish move.]"
Long scoffs and replies humorously, "The first move is rather early to decide that, Yarjen. But, psyching out your opponent CAN work. Nice effort."
Dzor's growl this time is more of a typical, impotent frustration. It doesn't rumble Long's chest like his aggressive growl. He finally reaches his bound hands over and moves his left knight out in front of his left bishop's pawn. He states calmly, "Yoor geem eez seempull, hoomin. Yuu see soon. [Your game is simple, human. You see soon.]"
"Maybe. But, until then, it's either of our game." Long moves her right knight's pawn forward one space. But, just as she's about to withdraw her hands, Dzor's massive hand eclipses hers, and his index finger and thumb capture her wrist -delicately, for now-. If he applies any pressure, his sharp nail would puncture many vital components of her forearm, not least of which is an artery which would see her dead in seconds. Dzor may or may not know this, but her heart tightens for a second.
Long can't stop her adrenaline from kicking in. Time seems to slow as she makes the crucial decision between fight or flight.
No.
She will not panic. He is making a point. She looks up at Dzor's eyes. Both of which are open now with fire in them. Among the many grievous things he could do right now, pulling her to him and his sharp-toothed jaws is but one. He has his teeth bared, though it is hard to call it a smile. Dzor does often mock human behaviors, though, when he's being sarcastic or demeaning.
He growls menacingly, "I heer yoor harrt. Eet rassess een feerr. [I hear your heart. It races in fear.]"
Long can hear the guard shuffle to aim, yelling, "Captain!"
Long sternly orders, "Hold fire!" She says as calmly as she can to Dzor, "You're right. I tried to show you trust, and now you stand at the line of betraying that trust. You call me a primitive every day, but I'M the one extending you trust and compassion from a position of power. To us, you're the savages."
The room rumbles from the soul-shaking growl that emanates from the large reptilian. Long's own courage is slipping, but she keeps her body under control. He won't fail her. She winces from the pain sharpening ever-so-slightly in her wrist.
Dzor growls out, "Yuu hovv noo eedaya whot loorks een starrz. Meersih eez weekniss. [You have no idea what lurks in (the) stars. Mercy is a weakness.]"
The pain is approaching unbearable, and Long grits her teeth. She grunts out, "Mercy... is the only reason... we had the forces to... beat you..."
There's a quiet as Long's efforts to suppress whimpers deteriorate. A single whimper of pain slips through her throat, even with all of her effort to withstand.
The guard cries out, "CAPTAIN!"
Long yells, "HOLD! I'M FINE!" She locks eyes with Dzor. Her eyes are watering from the pain of his nails pinching her tendons, but a fire of her own is awakened. She says sternly to him, "MERCY is a STRENGTH when it helps the weak AND strong come together to be stronger still. We both just... want to live. T-Together, we..." Long shrieks the last word as Dzor's grip tightens just a touch more, "CAN!" she cries out. The pain is tearing into her.
Just as suddenly, though, the pressure disappears. Long gasps, reclaiming her hand and recoiling it to her chest. She looks at Dzor. His hand is still extended, but his expression is much more distant. He sits that way for a long time. Finally, his eyes, one with a vertical pupil, the other horizontal, pivot slightly to look at her. A strange feeling fills her. It's not fear or disgust. Dzor's intensely deep gaze isn't one of hate or disrespect.
He looks down, still having said nothing. He relaxes back and crosses his arms. His gaze chills back to his normal steely expression, and he grunts, "Steel yoor torn. [Still your turn.]"
Long looks at her wrist. For as much as it hurt, she has only two small pinpricks of blood that have escaped her skin. The guard cautiously approaches, weapon still on Dzor, "Captain?"
Long takes a deep breath and exhales. She replies, "Trust exercise, Marine. I told you, I'm fine. Return to your position." Long moves her piece on the chess board using her left hand. Her right tendon aches, but she flexes her fingers carefully to ensure they still work. She's fairly confident she's okay.
Dzor states gruffly as he moves a pawn forward, "Theess geem pontliss. Roolarrs haff no pleess onn bottlefeld. [This game (is) pointless. Rulers have no place on (the) battlefield.]"
As Long takes her turn, she asks, "Why do you say that? Some of the most successful rulers in our history were warriors at the same time. Their soldiers respected them more."
"Rispeect shood bee oonconndeeshnoll. Oonqueeshnoll. Saurmynnyka NEVER see bottle, or deefinz falloors. [Respect should be unconditional. Unquestionable. Saurmynnyka NEVER see battle, or defense (defenders) failures.]"
"You're right, in a way. I take it, your 'Saurminnicka' is your ruler?"
Dzor nods, but snorts, grunting, "Woz."
"Right. Sorry. We've pieced together that you blame us for her death, but we have no idea how. The rocket was an expeditionary rocket. It was barely outside of our own solar system the year we think you believe it hit you."
Dzor growls softly, still taking his turns. He retorts, "Eet how we now yoor longweej. [It('s) how we know your language.]"
Long corrects, "I'm sorry. What I mean is, I believe the Voyager hit your planet. What I'm saying is, we have no idea how it's possible. There are no planets close enough to us. And, you've seen our technology in action."
Dzor says nothing. He simply studies the board for a moment. After he moves, he asks quietly, "Wot eez seestor?"
"Sister?" asks Long. Without looking at her, he nods. Long explains, "She's my sibling. She and I are family. We both have the same mother and father."
Dzor snorts, "Thoz wurds meen nohtheeng. [Those words mean nothing.]"
Long replies, "I'm sorry. Uh... how about... sisters are two female... uh... offspring of the same... breeding pair?"
This time, Dzor looks at her, surprised. Long adds, "But, family is different. It's spiritual. We all feel a connection to each other... Er, usually. I'm supposed to love my... uh... egh, breeding pair who birthed me, but... I don't. BUT, I love my sister very much."
"Loff?" asks Dzor, confused.
Also confused, Long replies, "Do... Grodurns not feel loyalty to specific individuals? A loyalty that you would kill or die for?"
Dzor's eyes widen only momentarily, but he quickly buries it again. He states, "Hoomin peers hoff moor thonn seengull offspreeng? [Human pairs have more than single offspring?]"
Long nods, a little disappointed that he didn't answer, but suspecting his lack of an answer was a confirmation that they do have 'love', but call it something else. She replies, "Sometimes, families have only one child, we call them, and sometimes they have many. Some families even have more than one child at the same time."
"Leek leetor? [Like litter?]" he asks, surprised.
Long giggles, "We don't call it that, typically, but yes. My sister and I share both of our parents, but we were born some time apart."
Dzor scratches his chin, seemingly intentionally flexing the wide belly scales of his chin. Maybe they itch if they're idle too long, or it helps him think. But, he replies, "How yoor sohseetih not uvurpoplot? How offort to bwi reets tuu morr thon oon offspreeng? [How your society not overpopulate(d)? How afford to buy rights to more than one offspring?]"
Long giggles again, replying, "Slow down, please, Yarjen. I'll do my best, but I'm still building an ear for your pronunciations. For overpopulate, we were getting up there. Some societies have tried laws discouraging more than one. Others tried implying it was simply evil because the world was going to end in 12 years. But, we adapted as long as we could. There was still enough, even when your first ship showed up. But, obviously, that matters far less now. Of course, our hope is to build fast enough to keep up with our population now, but we're mindful of how tight things are."
Long scratches her own head as she ponders her next move. Whether Dzor knows it or not, he's tightening his pieces around Long's rather successfully. She continues, "As for rights, with the exceptions of countries with those kinds of laws, only the support of the children was the parents' responsibility. Er, sort of. Our working class bought food, clothes, and toys for themselves and children from their wages. Non-working class individuals could receive money from the government based on how many children they had."
Surprised, Dzor asks, "Wot eenseenteeff eez tuu bee wurkeeng closs? [What incentive is to be working class?]"
Long scoffs, replying distantly, "People were starting to figure that out, I think. Too late, of course."
There's a quiet pause as Long moves a piece finally. Dzor asks, "Yuu hoff offspreeng? [You have offspring?]"
Long replies softly, "Not yet. Someday, I hope. How about you?"
Dzor winces slightly. He replies as he looks down, "Not yet ither. O-... Oppleecashn... joost... opproff beefoor... [Not yet either. A-... Application... just... approve(d) before...]" Dzor trails off, staring distantly at the board.
Long says softly and tenderly, "I'm so sorry, Jor." This time, when he reaches for his piece, she takes hold of his finger with her right hand. It aches, but she's okay. And, his finger is almost as big around as her wrist. But, the message is sent. Dzor is too fearless to flinch, but his heart isn't made of stone. She can tell when he doesn't growl at her. Instead, he stares at her hand. She says tenderly, "I wish your people had asked us to help. But... let us... Let me help you now."
Dzor doesn't move. He doesn't speak or growl. He doesn't even blink. He just stares at her hand, which has a small trickle of blood staining it, as she holds gently to his finger. The finger that drew that blood.
Again, his composure eventually returns, and he growls, "Duu wot yuu wont, hoomin. I need nohtheen fromm yuu. [Do what you want, human. I need nothing from you.]" He makes his move, even with her holding him. She releases as he leans back. He crosses his arms and waits patiently.
Long sighs. She smiles softly, saying, "Very well, I will. But, now it's my turn to ask. How old are you?"
Dzor grunts, "I don now foctor. [I don't know factor.]"
"Okay. How long have you been with us?"
Dzor curls his left side of his lip -his equivalent to a smirk-. He retorts, "I omm preeznor. Duu not now. [I am prisoner. Do not know.]"
Long smirks in return, "Very well. Someday, you WILL tell me, Yarjen. So, how about the... Fievegal? Your society. Are there other races in it? Other species, I mean."
Dzor nods. "Oll conckert bih Fievegal surf Fievegal. Thouw forbeed tuu leef word. [All conquered by Fievegal serve Fievegal. Though, forbid(den) to leave world.]"
"If you don't mind me asking, why was your population being controlled if you were successfully conquering worlds?"
"I don now. [I don't know.]"
Surprisingly, Long believes he genuinely doesn't. Maybe it started even before his lifetime.
Dzor says though, "Ai and Yarjen Craw concker sevurl words beefoor arff. Onlih monteeneeng fork left beeheend. [I and Yarjen Khla conquer several worlds before Earth. Only maintaining force left behind.]"
"'Yarjen' Craw?" asks Long surprised. "She's the same rank as you?"
Dzor shakes his head. "Not hor. Hor Hulm-hin."
"Her what?"
Dzor flexes his jaw. He replies, "Hulm-hin..." He thinks, adding, "Agg-corrier."
Long asks, "Her mother?"
Dzor nods. Confused, Long remarks, "I was under the impression almost all of your females are sterile."
Now confused himself, Dzor asks, "Moth-ur eez feemahl? [Mother is female?]"
Long nods. He corrects, "Theen, not mothur. Hulm-hin eez mahl. Mahl opplih foor offspreeng reets, sihr offspreeng weeth Saur-... [Then, not mother. Chulm'chn is male. Male apply for offspring rights, sire offspring with Saur-...]" Dzor halts, realizing that he said more than he ever meant to.
Long fills in cautiously, "The Saurminicka?"
Dzor growls. He moves his remaining knight and grunts, "Chuck-mot. Yuu lohz, hoomin. [Checkmate. You lose, human.]"
Long tenses with a start. She looks at her king. She knows Dzor was getting close to boxing her in, but she thought she still had options.
She does find a move, though. She checks and triple-checks. Did Dzor just bluff again? He was obviously trying to deflect, and he almost succeeded. She moves her remaining bishop to take his knight, and she replies, "Under tournament rules, you could lose, falsely calling checkmate like that, Jor."
The reptilian growls, but it's not a full-aggression growl. Just his normal grumpy one. At first, she wonders if she offended him by using his name. But, he grumbles in his own tongue as he studies the board, scratching his chin again. He grumbles, "Reelintliss hoomin... [Relentless human...]"
Long says tenderly, "Thank you, Jor." He looks at her, surprised. She adds, "Thank you for taking this game seriously and for talking with me."
He snorts and looks back at the board. He grunts out a Grodurn word she doesn't recognize at all, "Yukonja..."
Long asks, doubting she'll get an answer, "What does that mean?"
Dzor takes a deep breath and grunts out, "Thot I sholl eenjoh feest onn yoor bonns."
"Feast on my buns?" asks Long, a little surprised. "Grodurns use euphemisms?"
Dzor growls, bearing his teeth a little. Long smirks, realizing she accidentally trolled him, but owning it. She's made a lot of progress today. She states calmly, "I won't pressure you to answer or tell me about your people, Jor. But, I'm genuinely curious. Not for warfare reasons, but because you fascinate me. Please realize I could have anyone question you. And, many of them would use methods to get those answers. I mean it when I say, in spite of what your people did to mine, I would like to help you." She says as she takes her king to move, "If I've gathered correctly, a hullmin is a Grodurn father, and the fathers carry the eggs to hatching. That's very interesting to me. It must take a lot of dedication." She places her king and says, "Sorry, Jor. Stalemate. We both lose." She looks up, adding sincerely, "Or, just maybe, we both won today."
Dzor studies the board silently. He looks for a long time for a move. Long awaits him patiently. He crosses his arms and leans back, snorting. He grumbles, "Offspreeng geem."
Long says warmly, "I'll bring it again tomorrow."
Dzor closes his eyes, grunting, "Duu azz yuu weesh, Yukonja."
His eyes snap open when she places a palm on his forearm, having approached him fully across the line. The guard complains, "Captainnnn..."
The auburn-haired Captain says tenderly, "Thank you again, Yarjen Jor."
This time, he simply grunts, closing his eyes again. Long smiles, gingerly stroking his arm a couple times before making her way back out. She needs to remember to ask Khla what...
"Yukonja," growls Dzor's deep voice just as she's passing through the door. Long stops and faces him. "Yes?"
Dzor pauses. He asks, guarded, "Wheech hoomins haff bin feedeeng ooss?"
Long smiles gently, relaxing her posture. She replies, "Believe it or not, the team that boarded your ship. Including the young 'breeding pair' you almost captured."
Surprised, the big lizard man cocks his head. "Whih?"
Long smiles, replying, "Why? You'll have to ask them. There are others, too. But, Chief Grey was the first to offer. No one else hesitated."
There's a pause. Deciding he probably doesn't want to respond, Long starts to turn again, but he grunts out, "Arr yuu?"
Long pauses. She doesn't look at him right away. She replies softly, "No."
There's another pause, and Dzor growls, "Yuu lih."
Long's heart skips a beat. She looks at him in surprise. Trying to save face, she pretends not to understand, "'Lih'? I... What is 'lih'?"
Dzor's growl rumbles the container. Long admits, "Fine! Yes! But... How...?"
Dzor growls, "Yuu brack eee contock wheen yuu lih."
Long slumps and sighs. She says softly, "I didn't want you to know. Not me. I want to earn your trust. Not by bribing you, but by earning it."
Dzor's lip curls into his smirk, and he says calmly, "I bloof, Yukonja. Thot eez oll." He puts his head back and closes his eyes, and Long stands dumbfounded as her heart races. She's not afraid. If anything, she's embarrassed. After all that, he still got the better of her.
She lets it go, though. She sighs contentedly. "Good night, Jor. Jinntarrick mmrulk."
Dzor glances at her with one eye, trying to be sneaky about it. But, she saw, in spite of him trying to close his eye again and maintain his hard outer shell.
Long exits the container rather content. She massages her right wrist, though. It still aches a little. The guard says, "Ma'am... He could have killed you. You know how many bullets they can take, right?"
Long nods. She replies, "I wasn't afraid he would kill me, per se. I was afraid I was wrong about him." She ponders the feel of his leathery skin when she touched both his finger and then his forearm. In spite of the toughness of their skin and hides, he was rather surprisingly soft. And, he felt rather warm. She smiles, adding, "I wasn't."
********