Wyvern Protection Unit - Chapter 51: Chapter 51

Perhaps Daeja should ask for a meeting with this McDonald. But that would mean she had to speak.
“I was not sure if you ate meat or not, so I got a bit of everything,” Jennifer Dylluan said, unwrapping tiny, rounded stacks of food.
The scent was overwhelming, and yes, Daeja salivated a little. Her stomach rumbled. Acting against orders was a punishable offense, but she was starving. Besides, maybe the woman had information that could be useful to her search.
“I am Daeja 5368205qtR37.”
“Wow, um, how about I just call you Daeja?”
The female cocked her head to the side, studying her reaction. Daeja thought a moment before nodding.
“That is acceptable.”
Her stomach growled, and she cursed her body for showing weakness. What she would not give for even a small ration of the craft’s tasteless chet now.
“Thank you, Daeja. So, are you hungry?”
Daeja narrowed her eyes. She was hungry. That was the truth, but did she trust the female to not use it against her? Biting her lip, she decided to take that chance.
“Affirmative. I am in need of nourishment.”
“Is it okay if I ask you questions while we eat?”
“Affirmative.”
“Great. Do you eat meat?”
Daeja thought for a moment. How much personal information should she reveal? Should she tell her anything at all about the Drakein?
Her stomach grumbled loudly, the Wyvern inside her growling in agreement. Gritting her teeth, she nodded.
“Affirmative.”
Jennifer Dylluan slid one of the unwrapped, rounded food objects towards Daeja. The fragrance had her Drakein pushing to the surface. But before she could pick up the thing, the female continued her questions.
“Are you here for a hostile takeover?”
“What?”
Daeja could hardly think. Her stomach was demanding attention. It had been seventeen ellipses since she’d last had her rations of stale and tasteless chet.
The nutritional value was just enough to ensure survival, but it was truly terrible fare. Still, in that moment, she would have done anything for another ration. Anything at all to stop the dangerous rumbling of her empty stomach.
“Are you attempting to start an interplanetary war?” The female queried.
“War? I wish for no war,” Daeja replied honestly.
“What species are you?” Jennifer Dylluan asked, cocking her head to the side.
Ah. Perhaps she can discern lies as the Drakein can.
Daeja sat up straighter, her inner beast preening now that she had her hands on something edible.
“I am like you. Can you not tell?”
“How do you mean?” Jennifer Dylluan asked.
“I am Shifter. I am female. We are similar, Jennifer Dylluan.”
“How do you know what I am?”
“But you smell of Shifter, do you not? As I am sure, I scent strangely to your preternatural olfactory senses, yes?”
“Um, yes, I guess—you know, I think I will ask the questions, for now,” the female asserted.
“Agreed, for now,” Daeja replied.
“What is the name of your planet?” Jennifer Dylluan asked, eyes narrowed.
“My planet?”
She hated being dishonest, but those things she could not answer, she simply parroted. Daeja’s face heated with emotion as her empty stomach rumbled again.
She had not tasted the circular object yet. If Daeja did not eat soon, her Drakein would force a change. Then what would they do to her?
No, she had to satisfy her hunger first. The woman blinked slowly behind her glass shields. She was definitely curious. Daeja realized she would have to tell her something.
“I will tell you, but it has been a long while since last I satisfied my hunger,” Daeja confessed meekly.
“Apologies. Please, eat,” the female said, her eyes luminous in the well-lit cell.
Daeja sniffed the food, wondering for a moment if it was poisoned. Then the female lifted her own identical food item and took a hefty bite.
Deciding to risk it, Daeja touched the warm object hesitantly before lifting it in her hands as she watched Jennifer Dylluan do. Then she copied her, taking a hefty bite.
The second the heavenly taste registered in her brain, Daeja was gone. Thunder roared in her ears as she ate bite after bite until it was all gone. The female had seemed to forget her food as she watched Daeja eat.
“Have another—” Jennifer Dylluan offered, but Daeja was way ahead of her.
She grabbed another of the bread and meat stacks and scarfed it down. By her fourth, Daeja was feeling more herself, and less like an unruly Drakein youngling.
“Um, want a French fry?” the woman asked, clearly amused.
Daeja narrowed her eyes. She cocked her head to the side as the female lifted a strange-looking piece of food.
“A what?”
“Fre-nch-f-ry,” the female repeated slowly.
Daeja imitated the movement of her lips, testing it before she spoke it aloud.
“Fre-nch-f-ry,” she said, proud of her pronunciation.
“That’s right,” Jennifer Dylluan nodded.
“What is this Fre-nch-f-ry?”
“It is made from a starchy root called a potato. Quite popular.”
“Affirmative, Jennifer Dylluan. I would very much care to sample this Fre-nch-f-ry,” Daeja replied.
She took the object from the woman’s hand, marveling at the heat still emanating from it. It smelled of salt and oil. And something else—perhaps decadence?
Daeja hesitated a moment, then stuffed it in her mouth. Of course, she should have realized the Fre-nch-f-ry was hotter than the suns that once circled her home planet, Drakeinan. The word literally meant Dragonfire.
“Another?” the female asked, lips half-quirked in an amused grin.
“Yes, Jennifer Dylluan. I will accept another Fre-nch-f-ry.”
“Please, call me Jennifer. We do not use surnames with every greeting. Either Jennifer, or Miss Dylluan.”
“Miss?”
“Yes. It designates I am unmarried, er, unmated.”
“Ah. Then I, too, am a Miss. Miss 5368205qtR37.”
“Hmm. Why don’t we call you Smith instead? People here do not have alphanumerical sequences as surnames,” Jennifer explained.
“Miss Smith?” Daeja queried, turning back to the delicious smelling Fre-nch-f-ries.
“Yep. Your name henceforth will be Daeja Smith. Will that work for you?” Jennifer asked, holding the sack of Fre-nch-f-ries out to Daeja like so much ambrosia.
“Indeed,” she said, grabbing one, then trying to grab the whole bag.
Jennifer held it just out of reach, and Daeja frowned as she munched. The woman must have a direct line to the All Powerful to be the guardian of the delightfully decadent, sizzling hot rations.
An important female, indeed.
“May I have another?” Daeja asked.
She tried again to take the salty delicious foodstuffs, only to have the female hold it further away at just the last second. What game was this?
Blast it all!
A snarl ripped from her throat, but Jennifer merely raised an eyebrow. The female was clearly powerful to take on a full grown Drakein female.
True, the rations were delicious. But were they worthy of a bloodbath? She had to consider her options carefully.
Perhaps. Yes.
Most definitely, Daeja thought, as the salty tang remained on her lips.
The sheer confidence shining in Jennifer’s face caused Daeja to halt in what would have been a fearsome battle indeed.
The Drakein inside of her approved of that self-assurance. Truth be told, she wanted it for her own, almost as much as she wanted the Fre-nch-f-ry.
“Tell you what,” Jennifer said. “You tell me everything. I’ll get you more food.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Tell me everything, and I will have them bring another bag of hot French fries and burgers just for you.”
At the prospect of getting her claws on an entire bag of the delicious, salty rations, Daeja licked her lips. Perhaps crash-landing on Earth was not as bad as sucking a tnedor’s privates after all.
The pests had once thrived in abundance on Drakeinan and the fact they were gone was the one blessing in her planet’s current uninhabitable state. They were the bane of her race’s existence.
They were always getting into their grain storage units and leaving food shortages in their destructive wake.
Rrrr.
Even their name was said as a curse. To suck on a tnedor’s privates was the worst thing you could tell someone on her planet. Daeja thought long and hard, for a period of thirty seconds precisely.
“I know you are scared and in a strange place, Daeja. But I promise you, I will do everything I can to help you,” Jennifer said quietly.
Daeja’s Drakein listened with an attentive ear. The female told the truth. She would bet her life on it. But would she bet her grandfather’s?
“Take your word over Commander Viper’s?” she asked aloud, though the question was more for herself.
“Who is Commander Viper?” Jennifer inquired.
Daeja exhaled slowly. There was so much at stake, but this was the moment of truth. Should she tell this stranger why she was really there and trust her to help?
Or should she give her life for an unworthy male who was there to manipulate her people by killing the only thing they had left, and that was hope in an old legend?
It was really not that hard a choice.
“Get me more Fre-nch-f-ries. Promise to aid me in securing my apakein. And I will tell you everything.”
“Deal,” Jennifer Dylluan replied with a satisfied grin.
Daeja grabbed the sack of delicious chet, a similar smile spreading her face as she grabbed a handful of Fre-nch-f-ries.
“Agreed. Deal.”