Kenrikk set down the case of canned vegetables where the head cook had told him he should. He wiped the thin layer of dust from his hands on his apron, and then swiped the half-rolled up shirtsleeve of his arm across his forehead. The cook indicated that that was the last case of goods he would need from the storehouse for the next round of meals, and thanked the half-Nebari teenager for his help.
Kenrikk grinned and tossed the old soldier a wave as he decided that it was time for a break and left the kitchens.
He flinched a can of cold Jaq'yum juice as he made it outside and cracked the tab. He downed half the container in one long swallow, letting the cool sugary liquid soothe his dry throat. Twenty cases of food stock was a lot to move by hand from the underground stores to the kitchens without any help. Had the entrance to the stores been wider, he could have used a cart. But like everything military, the doorway and passage was just barely wide enough for him to squeeze through with one case at a time.
Something about building the area to survive a mortar or artillery barrage without collapsing the soldiers had told him once.
He found himself standing in the sun on the main thoroughfare of the camp. The next tent over that happened to butt-up against the kitchens was the actual huge mess hall. The boy had not seen his sister in a while, he decided to go check and see what she had been up too while he had been attempting to squeeze his way through the hot, cramped, tunnels.
He finished the rest of his drink with a few more regular swallows, and dumped the empty into a recycle bin at the entrance to the mess.
He was greeted by several of the hall workers once inside, and a number of the troops who knew him. He suspected that most of the soldiers were friendly with him only because of his sister. More than one had asked for him to put in a "good word" about them with her.
He merely shook his head in amusement. They had no idea what they would be getting into with Jaleecee. Without doubt her sharp tongue would have sent most of them running for the safety of the minefields and enemy territory within an arn.
Still he was polite, and returned their greetings jovially. He knew better than to really count most of them as close friends.
He did smile as he saw Selyon behind the long counter, scooping out food from big trays onto soldiers' plates. The young woman noticed him from across the tent and smiled herself before waving with her free hand.
Kenrikk more than just liked the Sykaran woman, and was seriously thinking of asking her for permission to see her socially. Part of him balked at following such an obsolete custom, as he had yet to see any of the other couples on the base following any such rituals. But old habits die hard, and to be truthful, another part of him was worried about offending the young woman and ruining his chances by doing something improper.
He considered the best course of action would be to ask Jaleecee if she would intercede on his behalf as a female member of his family… to smooth the way, and to let Selyon he was only showing the proper respect before approaching her himself.
Even though he knew the teasing he would suffer at the hands of his younger sibling, he thought it would be worth it if Selyon assented to the proposal.
Kenrikk waved back, and the girl's smile grew larger for him. The half-Sebacean teenager grew encourage that perhaps things may work out as he hope with the woman.
He let Selyon go back to her work and scanned the rest of the tent, but saw no sign of his petite sibling. Even as small as she was, her constant movement around the tables of the hall would have been enough to drawn his attention to her immediately. He did however notice several men that he knew where assigned to long-range patrols sitting at tables, wolfing down large qualities of food. That meant the teams where back in from their tours. Even the mess hall food was better than the field rations the soldiers ate, so upon their return they always filled up.
It wouldn't be until tomorrow that these very same men and women would be rested enough to be complaining about the quality of the very same food they were bolting down now.
At the times the patrols came in, Jaleecee use to take food and tea out to the men as they sat around after unloading and performing light maintenance on equipment that had to be cared for after use. The business of war required that the care of your fighting equipment always came first, or it would fail when a emergency arose when it was needed the most.
She had felt sorry for the men knowing they were tired and hungry, and in most cases still had the task of taking care of their own personal gear afterwards, so she brought them a small bit of food and drink to tied them over.
She had ceased doing that for the most part after the incident with the Artillery Squad, and that first meeting with that twice goddess-cursed scout!
The young man involuntary rubbed at his throat as he recalled Korr's iron-grip. He could almost still feel the stunning impact as the scout slammed him into a main tent support post, which was actually more like a pillar, inside that very mess tent. He especially remembered the shock of realizing that his feet weren't touching the ground any longer as he hung from the man's fist.
He'd never personally known of any one man that strong, but anger did funny things to a person. And indeed Tessen Korr had plenty of reason to be angry with him at that particular moment.
After hearing the vile and malicious rumors circulating around the base about this scout sullying his sister's integrity, Kenrikk had only meant to save her face, and protect her virtue and reputation. He knew that he could never hope to defeat a soldier in a fair fight, but still honor must be satisfied and as the only male family member left alive... the duty fell to him.
His sister and he might have lost their home and lands, but they still had their family nobility, and by the Goddess, he would protect it no matter what the cost.
The next opportunity to confront the mercenary had been inside the mess tent where he spent most of his time working.
Seeing Korr in line waiting for his turn to fill his tray, the boy had steeled himself and approached the man, loudly calling his name and drawing everyone's attention. He might have preferred to confront Korr in a more private setting, but proper decorum demanded the matter be handled in public so that all might witness.
A gentleman of good breeding, who was in the right, did not hide such matters from public scrutiny.
He stood before Tessen Korr and announced him for the honorless cad he was, and then called him every foul name he could think of, while also calling into question the scout's parentage as well. All and all, for his first time confronting a scoundrel in the name of decency, Kenrikk was quite pleased with his off the cuff rebuke of the scout.
He then spat at the man's feet to show the appropriate contempt of Korr's actions, and then drew back his fist and struck the mercenary in the jaw as hard as he could.
His father would have been pleased with the way he handled the situation, he told himself. Even if he would now have to endure a thrashing from the mercenary as the end result, it would be worth it. Afterwards, he and Jaleecee would still be able to hold their heads up knowing the matter had been addressed respectably, regardless of the outcome… or what the rest of the camp continued to say.
They would know that Kenrikk, the son of Calran, was a man of honor and would stand his ground regardless of the consequences.
Even if part of him thought the practice from his own people and culture rather silly on the outside, especially given their current situation and surroundings, Kenrikk felt somehow gratified for having followed it. It gave him a sense of being somewhat in control of his life, and doing the right and familiar thing for the first time since escaping with only their lives and the clothes on their backs from their ruined homeworld.
He knew he would also have to speak with his sibling about discretion in her future personal affairs, not that he wanted to have that talk with her. Still, as eldest, it was a duty left to him… and he was not looking forward to that by any means given his sister's stubborn mind set.
During his brief tirade, the scout had only gazed at Kenrikk, as if he'd never seen the boy before… or perhaps he was wondering if the boy was possessed or had just simply lost his mind.
After the blow, Kenrikk stood his ground solidly, prepared to accept the beating he knew the older and more experienced man would give him in return. That was the price he would have to pay to restore his family honor, and at the moment he considered it a small one.
Korr obviously did not understand the intricacies of family honor common to Kenrikk's world, nor had he expected the punch the boy threw at him. His head rocked back slightly, but not as much as Kenrikk had hoped it might. He had been hoping to give a more respectable account of himself; after all, as the party with the grievance, the right to the first blow was his. But it was another small matter in the full scope of things, he had acted as befitted a man of his caste and that was what counted most importantly.
Several of the nearer soldiers laughed out loud at the spectacle, and made some jeering comments that were mostly lost on Kenrikk as he waited.
Tessen merely straightened his head and gazed at the boy with those dead eyes for an instant, then something dark flickered behind them and seemed to take over. Whatever was giving his eyes life… was the most terrifying thing the young boy had yet to see. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or not, but he would have sworn to the Goddess that the edges of the scout's eyes tinted a strange fiery silver color.
Kenrikk had swallowed hard. In that one instant he knew he had made a grave mistake with attempting to follow a pride saving ritual that had absolutely no meaning on the world where he and his sister now found themselves.
A tiny voice in the back of his young mind told him that the scout was going to kill him. There wasn't an iota of mercy in the mercenary's features for a foolish boy who was just trying to protect his little sister's good character.
He never saw it happen, but the next thing he knew, Korr had him suspended in air, pinned to the huge pole that was once a tree trunk, and now supported the huge tent. As impossible as it sounded, the half-Nebari was positive that the hand locked around his throat could crush it if it's owner willed it.
For whatever reason the mercenary chose not to bring that much pressure to bear on his neck, and the boy counted himself lucky, thanking whatever god or goddess looked out for fools and imprudent young men.
Kenrikk had never really been this close to, or on the wrong side of, anyone dangerous before. At that moment he had no doubt he was staring into the face of a killer.
A killer that was well practiced at his trade, and very cold about utilizing it.
The cold vicious look in Korr's eyes lasted only for an instant, but that instant for the boy seemed to last a cycle. Just as suddenly as his features had changed, the chilling look slipped away, as if the man had gained control of himself once more.
"What is your malfunction, boy?" the scout had hissed.
"My sister…" Kenrikk managed to rasp out. "You've disgraced her!"
"What the frell are you talking about?" the tall man demanded. The scout slammed him into the pole once more in emphasis; hard enough that Kenrikk was sure his eyes rattled, but not so hard as to do serious damage to him.
Kenrikk attempt to form a clear answer, but it was difficult to reply very coherently with somebody cutting off what felt like half the supply of air to your windpipe, let alone having your brains jangled a couple of times on top of that. Luckily another soldier at one of the nearer tables spoke up and crudely cut to the chase for him instead.
"Come on, Korr," the woman said. "Everyone knows you're frelling the lad's little sister."
The scout turned his head to regard the soldier for a few microts. The amused smile died on her face with the cold hard look the mercenary gave her. Others at the same table seemed to decide that perhaps the situation wasn't as entertaining as they first though, and began to look elsewhere or go back to picking at the chow still on their plates.
The scout then turned back to give Kenrikk his attention again.
"Is that it, boy? Is that what you're on about?" he asked.
Despite his situation, Kenrikk found he was nearly incensed with the crass way the female soldier had describe the situation between the scout and his sister. Anyone with common decency could figure out that the scout had taken unjust advantage of her innocence. There was no need to sully it more by using such vulgarity!
But still… it described the problem clearly and to the point for the most part.
"Yes," the boy had managed to get out through his restricted airway.
Korr grit his teeth in what might have been a tired grimace if the scout still hadn't looked so angry, and then he suddenly let the boy down.
Kenrikk was glad to feel his feet touch the ground again. Korr removed his hand from his throat, only to snag the front of his tunic and use it to draw him nearer. The mercenary's grip felt as hard as steel.
"Listen, boy… because I am only going to tell you this once," Korr growled. "I am not now, nor will I ever be sharing my bed, or anything else, with your sister. She cares for my quarters and my things, and I pay her a fair wage in return. That is all. The next time someone tells you different, you send them to me and I will set them straight."
Kenrikk didn't say anything. He only gazed at the other man's face as he spoke. And oddly enough, he got the impression that the scout was actually sincere about what he'd said, despite his threatening manner.
"Do you understand that?" Korr asked, "Or shall I beat it into instead?"
Kenrikk shook his head "no" to the beating part, having lost his reserve for that by then, but said, "yes" out loud to the understanding part.
That seemed to satisfy the tall scout because he let go of the boy's shirt. However he wasn't done just yet.
"And if anyone else has any doubts about what I just said," he said to the audience inside the mess as a whole. "You can meet me outside to discuss it in full."
The boy looked around, but no one seemed inclined to take the scout up on his offer. The scout was not the biggest man Kenrikk had ever met; and there were plenty of soldiers in the tent who were at least twice the size of the mercenary. Still, not even any of them rose to the strange man's challenge. The half-Nebari lad doubted it was because the other soldiers respected Korr, it was more than obvious that the scout was just too much of a dangerous oddity for them to want to risk needlessly.
Kenrikk easily imagined that there would not be a single soul waiting for the tall man outside the mess tent either when he finally left.
"Get out of here before I change my mind," Korr told him more quietly, with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder.
Kenrikk gladly withdraw, his last view of Tessen Korr the rest of the day was of the man returning to the chow line and getting himself a tray as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
He did catch holy hezmana from Jaleecee later that night inside their tiny quarters for, first – foolishly challenging the scout the way he had, then second – for sticking his nose into what she considered her personal business.
He consoled himself with the realization that women just did not understand the affairs of honor the way men did, and he let her say her piece in relative meekness… for over half-an-arn!
On the positive side of the incident, he hadn't heard another iniquitous rumor about his sister and Korr since then.
At least none that were muttered within range of his hearing.
The young man sighed as he came back to the present.
If the patrols were back in, that meant that Korr had returned as well… that is if he hadn't been killed in the fighting. Kenrikk considered that such a happening would have fueled the rumor mill the instant the patrols had set foot back on the firebase. Seeing he had heard nothing to that effect, he could only assume that the scout was still among the breathing.
If Jaleecee wasn't currently working in the mess tent that most likely meant that she had gone running to the scout's quarters as soon as she heard they were all back on the base.
It was un-ladylike behavior such as that, which had started that terrible anecdote in the first place.
He would have to speak about it with her again, not that she would listen to him any more than she had the first ten times… or the next ten after that.
He would also have to remind her that rumors of the scout's scandalous behavior with her were not the only stories worming their way through the camp about him now.
And that particular type of gossip is what really worried him the most.
He was beginning to believe it might have been better if Korr had beaten him that first time. It might have given Jaleecee pause, and she would have seen Tessen for the hired thug he really was. Then she might have decided for herself to wash her hands of that man, instead of developing this schoolgirl fascination with him.
He knew that it was in bad character for himself to take rumors about a person as actual fact. But this was a war zone, and the stories of Korr possibly being a spy or traitor were not going to be ignored for much longer. The talk was escalating, and one of these soldiers at some point would act upon it if only for the simple reason of long-term self-preservation.
Jaleecee was all he had left to him, and he didn't want her hurt when they finally came for the scout. He wasn't too positive that the mercenary was the type of man to give any thought what-so-ever to her safety before his own should the pulse bolts start flying.
He frowned thinking, the man would have to be an fool not to see or know what was happening around him. He worked in the mess hall and kitchens and he knew! Just as sure, Korr had to know just as well.
It only proved the man's low character that he continued to let an innocent such as his sister be placed in danger because of himself! If he had any honor, the scout would send Jaleecee away and not permit her to be anywhere near him when his enemies came for him.
The thought sent a shiver of fear for his sister up his spine and he decided to head over to the scout's bivouac and see if his younger sibling was there. If she were, he would make up an excuse about needing her back at the mess tent to assist with something.
The less time she spent around Tessen Korr, the better he would feel. Something told him that something very bad was going to happen around the mercenary very soon.
He headed that way toward his tent, pushing the nagging feeling that edge on panic that he might be too late even now, to the back of his mind.
He tried to remain calm and rational, but he still couldn't stop himself from going into a light jog to get there faster.
Kenrikk arrived at Korr's quarters a few moments later. He called out Jaleecee's name as he approached, trying his best to sound casual.
From the plain green tent that looked exactly like all the others around it, he got no answer. He went to the flap opening, and did his best to knock at the single pole that split the opening. It made an odd thudding sound as he called for her again.
Part of him feared that she was in there and did not hear him because she was in a lover's embrace with the vile man, that what they both claimed was false and that they were in fact lovers. He pushed the unpleasant reflection from his mind. If anything, Jaleecee was never a liar. If she said nothing was going on, then nothing was going on between them.
Still he had to be sure she wasn't inside, so he pushed the flap away and stuck his head inside.
"Hello?" he called out; still attempting to be as polite as possible when ones abode was only a flimsy tent, after all the scout might simply be in there alone and sleeping.
Emptiness greeted him, and he found he was glad. Part of him still had not shaken the dread that he might have witnessed something torrid between his sweet sister and that man upon entering.
Normally, he would have withdrawn once seeing the tent was unoccupied. But something roused his curiosity and he found himself stepping fully inside the man's quarters in spite of his better judgment. He had only been there twice in the past, and had never entered beyond the door flap.
His young eyes quickly adjusted to the tent's dimmer light, and Kenrikk first noticed that the scout had left some of his field gear stacked on the rough flooring by his bed. A worn pulse pistol gleaming with a light coat of oil laid on a small crate used as a makeshift table. Besides the weapon was a stack of towels and other personal care items, folded in a precise neat way that the half-Nebari lad easily recognized as his sister's handiwork.
A heavy footlocker-type trunk sat at the foot of the bed. It looked slightly bigger and heavier than most of the footlockers that the other troops were issued. But then again, mercenaries probably had to supply their own lockers for personal storage. The locking device on the trunk was certainly unlike any lock he had ever seen before.
He stepped even further in, and noted the odd long-barreled pulse rifle the scout used leaning against the back corner of the tent. Kenrikk really did not like guns, and he had seen more weapons than he cared to shake a stick at since starting work at the base. He had no interest in examining the mercenary's rifle any closer than he already was.
His inspection of the inside of Korr's tent didn't yield much more of interest. Nothing else that would give him an insight into the strange man, or why his sister was so obsessed with him… or point out to his inexperienced eyes that Korr was an enemy spy.
Kenrikk allowed himself a small snicker at the last thought. Tessen Korr would have to be a pretty poor excuse for a spy indeed if he had left something laying in plain view around his quarters that even a novice like himself could positively identify as enemy spy equipment.
The mercenary didn't even have the normal pinups of females or males that most of the other soldiers keep in their personal spaces. For certain, some of the more pornographic ones, especially the interspecies variety, they sometime twisted his stomach.
Not that he was against interspecies mingling at all. How could he be when he himself was a product of an interspecies bonding?
He just believed that love that was powerful enough to cross over and over-come interspecies intolerance should be cherished for the amazing feat it was, not posted up as some form of lust and obscenity.
He was just old-fashion that way. The thought made him think of Selyon, and he smiled to himself.
Kenrikk was glad that at least his sister didn't have to endure that distasteful form of personal space decorations while she worked here.
Next he found several nasty-looking bladed weapons sitting on top of the footlocker that he had missed the first time, obviously waiting for further care upon the scout's return to his home. Several of them he recognized right away, like the big bush knife all the troops used out here in the jungle terrain just a few metra from the base. The rest of the blades were unknown to him… and their designs give him chills as he imagined the damage they might do to flesh.
He turned away, getting ready to leave and look for his sibling elsewhere. Kenrikk had only just caught it out of the corner of his eye… it's color matched the rough blanket on the bed so closely that he had missed it, glancing over it the first few times.
What finally only just caught his eye was the familiar shape.
The boy returned to the bed to examine more closely had he found lying there. At first it seemed unreasonable that it would be there inside the scout's quarters at all. But he bent to look even closer and saw the small and very familiar designs in the box's carved top.
It was Jaleecee's Promise Box!
His sister had lost it almost a few weekens ago. She had searched for it franticly, but never finding it for her efforts. Its loss had left her somewhat distraught, but she had finally believed that she had merely misplaced it somewhere within their belongings, and that they would run across the box sooner or later – which neither she or he ever had, until now.
This Promise Box was one of the first things she had gotten for herself after that had barely escaped from the Scarrans invaders with their lives. She had lost her original one and everything in it when their home had been destroyed in the orbital bombings.
An old woman on one of the tramp transports they managed passage on had taken pity on the young girl and had given Jaleecee her own Promise Box, which was the only thing she herself had managed to save.
At first his sister had refused the gift, more from pride than anything else. But the old woman had insisted, saying that her bondmate was gone long before the Scarran attack, and that her life was just about over at her age. She'd had the Promise Box, which she claimed her father had made, since she was a young girl. She said she had no daughter herself, and now believed that the box should be passed on and used once again for what it was meant for, by someone with a future to look forward to. The old woman told them it was the best way to see that their world would live on.
In the end, Jaleecee had cried as she accepted the gift.
A Promise Box was simply a tradition that girls and women on his world had followed. No one could surely say when or who started it, but during the course of their lives a girl would save little odd-and-ends of things, piece of whatever was important in their lives. The box could contain anything from images of loved ones, to buttons or togs from a favorite dress, to slips of paper with poetry written on them, to pretty stones or pieces of glass.
Each box reflected the personality of its owner, and no two were exactly alike of course. They were kept private for the most part, possibly shared with a favorite sister or female friend. Kenrikk wouldn't really know for himself, and the only way he would have seen what was in a woman's Promise Box was on his bonding night. When his Bondmate would have shown him what was in hers, and explained the meaning of what each object inside meant to her.
It was considered the final step of your courtship and first step to truly getting to know the woman you would spent the rest of your days with.
Once children came along, a mother might share her Promise Box with her daughters. By then the collection of items would have grown beyond what was in there on her bonding day.
Kenrikk scowled as he glared at the craved wooden box sitting there in plain view on the bunk. Jaleecee never would have given that away… not even to the scout!
"Bastard!" the half-Nebari growled.
Korr must have stolen it from his sister! He truly was a cad of the lowest order.
His rage built as he reached down and seized the box from the top of the bed. It was about the size of a standard printed book, and possibly about as deep as the width of the palm of Kenrikk's hand. The first thing he noticed was that it was oddly heavy for its size.
Jaleecee couldn't have possibly filled it all ready?
Something shifted as he lifted it up to the level of his chest, and he heard a clear "ping" sound from inside the sachet. The boy immediately concluded that Korr was using his sister's keepsake to store something in, probably cleaning items for his weapons knowing a soldier's mentality.
Kenrikk would never knowingly peek into his sister's Promise Box, but he decided to empty the contents on to the scout's bunk in contempt for his thievery, seeing whatever was inside probably weren't hers to begin with any longer. He hoped there was something in there that would open up and make a huge mess of the man's sleeping platform.
That would be a fitting punishment!
He pictured his sister's joy at him finding her Promise Box and returning it to her, empty or not. Though he was sure he'd have a hard time convincing her of where he had finally located it.
He opened the lid to do just as he planned… only a sudden loud roar filled his ears and a brilliant white light blinded him.
Then there was nothing.