Page 32 of Infala: Bonded to the Enemy
She had to do this sort of thing a few times in the Dohrag camp on the surface, though not by herself, but at least the ingredients were familiar, and while she would be preparing larger portions, she’d helped the others and knew the basics of the process.
Shalia set to work, cooking several different dishes, piling the large serving trays with each item, and setting them in the heating area to remain fresh. It seemed there was some sort of stasis field around whatever she put there, keeping it from overcooking, cooling, or going bad. Why there wasn’t a machine to actually cook the food, she had no idea. But then again, maybe there was one. Maybe this was all just a game to them.
Barely an hour later the Dohrags filed in and took their seats. Shalia immediately carried out the trays of food, setting them in the middle of each table. Their conversations were open and unguarded. She was seen as less than nothing. Not even there. Just a body to do their bidding. As a result, she got quite an earful.
“Too many died on his watch,” Grallox said to a table of rapt listeners. “When the next ship arrives, they should remove him from duty.”
“I agree with your sentiment, but to be fair, what happened on the surface wasn’t exactly his fault,” a smaller man replied.
“What does that matter? A demotion would finally get that filthy-blooded mongrel out of our hair.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re next in line.”
“Obviously. And when I take over, this operation will be run properly, by atrueDohrag, not some half-breed.”
Hearty cheers erupted from the men, more than a few looking at the female in their presence with lust in their eyes. Valin was a stickler for the rules. No women aboard the station except in this extreme circumstance, and absolutely no recreation with one. Thatwas to be done on the surface only. But if Grallox took charge, that rule might wind up having a little flexibility.
Shalia felt her adrenaline surge as she set the large serving dishes in front of them. The way they looked at her, she felt certain that if not for Valin’s rules they’d either beat her or fuck her to death if the mood struck, and possibly both. Dohrags were known for their brutality, especially toward females.
The men dug in at once and ate ravenously, making a mess that she would undoubtedly have to clean up. Shalia hoped they would eat fast and clear out. The whole vibe was tense today and Valin had still not shown up. Horrible as he was, his presence was the one thing that ensured her safety, at least for the most part.
One of the men grabbed her ass as she walked by, nearly making her drop her tray. The others laughed heartily. Apparently, this was all good fun for them. She approached another table and set down the tray, earning a grope from one of those men as well, his hands roughly squeezing her breast as she moved to pull away.
“Where’s the commander?” she blurted, noting his absence. The man, fortunately, hesitated in his groping.
“Working. You must bring food to him in his quarters.”
“Uh, I don’t know where?—”
The man stopped chewing and looked at her like she was a fool. “Down the corridor, turn left. Though the airlock between compartments and head straight. Go to the large doors at the end.”
She didn’t dare ask for any further clarification, quickly heading out, her arms loaded with food. Fortunately, she managed to find his compartment with little difficulty. Better yet, the walk allowed her to see a little more of the ship in the process. It was pretty much the same layout regardless of section. Corridors and compartments dividing up the large storage area into different spaces, each sealed with a thick door or doors.
“I have your meal,” she said, opening the door after knocking and waiting outside for a minute.
The commander was at his desk studying a holographic display. She couldn’t make out what he was looking at, but it seemed to be some sort of map with swooping lines on it. The background looked like a picture of space, complete with solar systems and other things she couldn’t identify. A shipping route, maybe? Or battle plans? She had no way to know.
Commander Valin didn’t look up at her, but she saw the thick artery in his neck pulse a little harder as she leaned forward and placed his meal on his desk. Strangely, the itching of the rune on her chest had stopped, but now it felt something else. An odd tingle of sorts, almost as if the pigment was crawling under her skin.
Shalia didn’t dare show a reaction. Whatever it was, she was far too close to her captor to allow any sort of reaction show. She stepped back and waited for him to say something, but the man didn’t say a word, He didn’t so much as acknowledge her presence. Shalia quietly stepped back and left him alone, the sensation in her chest diminishing, but only slightly.
Little did she know, the commander felt it too, but in his case the odd tingle was immediately pushed aside. He had other things to worry about. The arrival of the next ship for one. While he hadn’t been part of the conversation in the mess hall, the same concern weighed on his broad shoulders.
A lot of men had been lost under his command, and he would have to come up with a damn good excuse if he hoped to retain his position. He knew his underlings were grousing, and they would be more than happy if he lost his command. His hold over them was tenuous as it was, and now the slightest misstep could set the dominos tumbling. And this damn female aboard his station could be the kindling that burned all he’d worked so hard to build to ashes.
It had taken him so many years of incredible effort to rise in rank, but he’d overcome the odds. A half-breed making commander? It was unheard of. But with the utmost force of will he had achieved the impossible, and he’d do whatever was needed toensure his continued ascent. Even if it meant just blowing his unfortunate prisoner out an airlock and being done with it. At least then that one variable would be removed from the equation.
17
Shalia hurried back to clean the mess hall. Given the way the Dohrags ate,messwas a particularly apt name. Fortunately, the crew had devoured their lunch and moved off, back to their day’s work, leaving an impressive degree of chaos in their wake, especially for such a small group. It took longer than she’d expected, but with a little sweat and hard work she had the tables, seats, and even the floor spotless in relatively short order.
“Not bad. Not bad at all,” she said as she surveyed the fruits of her labor with a satisfied grin. She then turned her attention to the kitchen.
It was a mountain of dirty dishes piled high, but she didn’t mind. This part was actually not bad as the automated system did the washing, effectively sterilizing the plates and utensils with a burst of whatever weird energy system they used to clean them.
“Yeah, best not get my hands in there,” she mused as the machine did its job with an almost violent efficiency, the leftover remnants of any organic matter vaporized in an instant.
“Makes sense, I suppose. Outer space and all, any way to save water would be logical.”
