Page 5 of Koha’vek (Cyborg Guardians Spinoff)

Ava

As I watched Koha’vek squatting by the fireplace from my couch, I realized it had never occurred to me that aliens could cook. Koha’vek was actually good at it, even though I could tell by the delicious smell that it was another venison stew.

Spring had settled over the mountains, and Koha’vek had spent quite some time away that day, returning triumphant.

He had found some root vegetables and herbs to add to our daily stew.

Although I longed for a piece of bread or a biscuit, I didn’t complain.

Koha’vek made sure I had a hot meal every day, and the meals were more than palatable.

The savory aroma made my stomach grumble, not enough for him to hear.

“You are hungry,” he said.

“Yes, and it smells wonderful.”

“I’m glad you approve.” He handed me a hand-carved wooden bowl and spoon.

This is how he kept busy in the evenings, making woodcarvings with his knife.

The stew filling the bowl was rich and thick.

I should have waited to take the first bite because it was hotter than expected and burned my tongue.

I waited for it to cool before I took the next spoonful, and I nearly moaned on the second because it was so good.

Koha’vek said nothing as he sat on a wooden bench by the far wall, eating from his own bowl.

Even when I wasn’t looking, I could feel him watching me.

Though I still wondered why he rescued me, I didn’t ask.

I thought it was probably the same as I might have done for a wounded animal.

As cold as the nights were in early spring, when there was often still snow on the ground, I would have died had he left me there.

There was a sadness about him, stranded on an alien planet alone, where many would just kill him without asking questions because of his race.

From everything I had heard about the Mesaarkans, they were evil beings who killed humans for pleasure.

I had not realized that they took prisoners and used them as sex slaves.

I watched him for a little longer, chewing a piece of meat from my stew.

He looked alien, but not monstrous. Not now, after he had been so kind and caring.

His face was harsh-looking, but not cruel or grotesque.

His skin darkened and patterned. His eyes were bright and intense; something was behind them, a sorrow I had glimpsed a few times before.

After we finished eating, Koha’vek cleared the bowls and checked the fire, methodical and quiet, just as he was in everything he did.

I got up, using the crutch he had carved for me out of a thick, polished branch, and hobbled to the bathroom.

My ankle still ached, but it was healing faster than I expected.

I wondered if perhaps Koha’vek had used some alien tech to speed the healing. But I wasn’t complaining.

By the time I returned, the dishes and spoons lay on the sink’s drain board.

I crossed the room and paused near the door, peering out the window beside it.

I could see Dotty in the corral outside the barn across the yard.

The sun was still shining, and the snow had all melted.

That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more in the morning, but it was getting warm enough during the days that it usually melted before sundown.

Dotty looked good. She stood looking toward the house as though she knew I was watching her.

“Do you miss your world?” I asked suddenly as Koha’vek came to stand beside me.

He was quiet for a long time, and I didn’t think he was going to answer.

“I miss who I was there,” he said. “Before the war.”

I could almost sense the pain behind that admission.

“You said you were a historian. Did you enjoy it?” I swallowed.

“I did,” he said in a wistful tone. “I loved studying ancient ruins and recording stories. My people used to sing their history.

“You were a storyteller?”

“It was part of my job.”

“I was in the middle of a major project when the Emperor’s space force conscripted me. Now, I will never finish it.” He said the last wistfully.

“You loved your work.”

“It was all I had. My parents and siblings died in the war while I was still a youngling.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said and meant it.

“At least I was grown when my father died. Jenkins had already taken over the town for several years. I don’t know why I thought he would spare me after Dad died.

But there he was three days later, demanding I become his woman or vacate my property. So here we are.”

I glanced at Koha’vek, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave a slight nod. As I looked back out the window at my horse, I had a sudden longing to ride her. It was still early in the beautiful spring day, and I’d not been out of the house since Koha’vek had brought me there.

“I want to ride Dotty.” I turned to Koha’vek.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said suspiciously.

“Oh, you needn’t worry. I don’t want to run away. I just want to ride her. We don’t even have to put a saddle on her, and you can lead her. I just want to go outside and spend some time with her.”

Again, Koha’vek nodded. First, he went back into his room and came back wearing his weapons belt. “Wait here, and I will bring her to you.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a bright smile to show my appreciation, and I would have sworn I saw the corners of his wide mouth lift just a little.

Koha’vek

I smiled to myself as I walked to the paddock to get Ava’s horse.

At first, I was a little suspicious that she might be planning to run, but then I remembered how affectionate she had been when I brought the horse to see her before she could get on her feet.

Something changed inside me, and she gave me that beautiful smile when I agreed to indulge her.

The horse greeted me with a soft nicker as I reached the paddock fence.

I went inside the barn and got her bridle so I could use the reins to lead her.

She had not come with a lead or a halter.

Recalling how I had removed the bridle, I had little trouble putting it back on her.

She neighed loudly when she saw Ava standing on the porch waiting.

The horse pressed her head against Ava’s chest, allowing her to hug it. “I missed you, too, sweetie,” Ava said and kissed the horse’s forehead.

Even if I had saddled the horse, Ava was in no condition to mount her. Wrapping the reins over the porch railing, I went to her side. “Will you allow me to lift you onto the horse’s back?”

“Yes, please.” Ava raised her arms, pressing her hands on the withers.

I gently gripped her small waist and lifted her with little effort onto the animal’s back. She looked so happy sitting on her animal that I was glad I’d agreed to do this for her. “Where would you like to go?”

“Wherever you’d like. I’m just here for the ride,” she laughed happily .

So, I started walking along the dirt trail through the woods where I usually hunted. Ava’s horse was content to follow, and it seemed happy to carry her owner.

I found peace in this forest as the wind softly whispered through the conifers, and birds flittered among them.

Still, I always carried weapons when I left the cabin because a few miles away, there was a forced labor camp at an old mine.

I had stumbled on it one day in my wandering and made a point to stay away from it since.

Knowing they were even that close made me arm myself whenever I left my home.

I glanced back frequently to make sure that Ava was comfortable as she swayed to the rhythm of Dotty’s steps.

The air was comfortably cool, so Ava looked warm in her light jacket.

I had been fortunate enough to find her other pack one day while I was hunting.

It had rolled down the hill quite a way from where she had landed when I found her.

It pleased me to see Ava looking serene atop her horse.

When I turned back to look at the trail ahead, a flicker of motion caught my attention.

A flutter of wings near the edge of a low thicket, and I instinctively pulled my throwing knife from its sheath.

I saw slate gray feathers, a fan-shaped tail, and the distinctive bounce of a dusky grouse working its way along a conifer branch.

“Wait here,” I said in a low whisper, dropping the reins and moving silently ahead.

I was in my element, taking each step slowly and deliberately. The grouse's head and wings half-lifted in alarm, but it was too late. I launched a throwing knife. And it spun once through the air and struck with a soft thud, pinning the bird to the trunk in a single clean motion.

I retrieved the bird and wiped the knife clean on some leaves, then turned back toward Ava with my prize.

“Now, that was hot.” Ava blinked.

I raised a brow, intrigued. “You find food acquisition attractive?”

“When you do it without a sound? Yeah. Little bit.”

I did my best to suppress a smile as I slipped the grouse into my game bag. “Then dinner will be your reward. No venison tonight.”