Page 11 of Coveted

The dusty brown color of Cha’s skin accented his wrinkles and gave him a weathered look, short greenish hair making the man resemble nothing more than a mossy boulder. Even his gravelly voice added to the impression.

Vax appreciated that the man was blunt, but he still wished he’d had a little warning before Cha delivered the bad news.

“Do we know why?”

“Fungus. And there’s signs on the Western-face’s crop.”

Vax winced. Losing one crop was a terrible blow, losing another would be devastating. They already had to ship in half their food, but with the increasing population and the drop in what they could supply themselves, he was going to have to request an increase from the Council.

“What do you suggest?”

Vax wasn’t a farmer. Cha would know more about what needed to be done than he did.

“Get ahead of the spread. Burn it out, plus a buffer to be sure we got it all. Anyone who works on the West- or South-face isn’t allowed near the other crops until they decontaminate.”

Vax nodded at Cha’s suggestions. They made sense. Burning part of the produce would suck, but if it prevented the loss of the entire crop, it would be worth it.

“Is there anything we can do to mitigate the loss? Is there enough growing time left to plant more on the South-face?”

Cha shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Quellia needs the full season to ripen, and I wouldn’t trust the fungus not to come back if we replant right away. I want to wait until there’s a hard freeze to be sure it’s gone.”

Vax let out a frustrated growl, scrubbing his hands over his head. He added a mental note to cut his hair again before pulling his focus back to the bigger issue.

“Can we try something else there? Something different enough the fungus wouldn’t affect it, that we can harvest before winter?”

Cha stared at him for a long moment before slowly dipping his chin.

“There may be. I’ll look into what can grow in our conditions and get back to you on it. We’d probably need to order starts instead of seeds, and my budget is already tapped.”

Vax waved the concern away.

Farcon 1 had been one of the richest planets in the Federation on paper, but he’d found out that was mostly because the Osmels had skimped on a lot outside the main city. He’d used a good portion of the banked credits making the mines safe for the workers and providing them with better housing than the shacks he’d lived in as a child. Bringing in new workers and drilling a new mine would take a good portion of what was left, but if there was something they could grow to make up for the loss of theircrops, he’d finance it. They’d make it back once crystal output increased.

“I’ll take care of that, just get me the info. Or better yet, make the order and I’ll sign for it.”

Cha’s brows rose, his surprise obvious. It was one thing to take recommendations, but another to trust the man to order what was needed without giving him a limit or making him explain each expense. The Osmels would never have done such a thing.

Jerking his head in a nod, Cha stood, determination etched into his expression.

“I’ll have the options and breakdown to you in a week.”

Vax stood and shook the other man’s hand. The Osmels had considered themselves too far above others to do such simple things, but Vax understood the importance of showing others appreciation.

Plus, he was one of them. Just an ordinary worker, who’d taken on the task of overseeing the planet to be sure people like him weren’t taken advantage of any longer.

Following the meeting with Cha was another meeting.

And another.

Then answering messages and sending ones of his own, checking figures, determining how much of an increase in foodstuffs he needed to request, before finally taking a break to eat the lunch a servant had brought in a few hours earlier. It wasn’t the fancy fair that used to be made in the kitchen, just a simple, hearty meal, the exact same as the servant shared.

Vax would have dismissed the entire kitchen staff when he took over and dealt with what he could make himself, except Varner explain what that would mean. Most of the people who worked in the building lived there as well, so not only would he have put people out of their job, he would have left them homeless. And while he may not personally needthe fancy meals, there were times when he had to entertain other dignitaries who would expect the kind of pomp they were familiar with, so it was good to have people available to create that kind of thing.

Those thoughts reminded him of the omega.

Alana.

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