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Published:

June 18, 2023

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Drunin Gaarth stood patiently as she lectured him about what bravery truly meant. He had no choice, really. Fentana Vinsreich Palmetta served as Chief Administrator of all processing facilities for the Matriarchy. She was also his immediate supervisor and, more importantly, could devour him at any moment.


Palmetta towered over him. Her claws were at least twice the size of his. Her tail could swat him away faster than he could hope to react, even on a good day. Their ship had been parked in low-Earth orbit for the past three cycles. Neither of them were going anywhere. She had his attention.

 

“We had just completed Phase 2 of the processing facility.” she continued. “We were running on reserve power. If you remember, back then we used those Dilintiri generators. They were inherently unreliable.”

 

“Yes, of course.” said Gaarth, lying. Those generators were well-known throughout the Drunin administrative class as being incredibly reliable, he thought. The only reason they broke down was if they hadn’t been maintained. Clearly, Palmetta’s grandmother, Truly Frightening Fentana Vinsreich Ravenosa, prioritized devouring entrails over service calls, scheduled maintenance, and administrative competence. Whatever.

 

“One evening, the generators cut out. The Hunin savages were on us in minutes. It was a cooler evening, and without power our ultraviolet armor did not function well. We were… lethargic.” she said, bitterly. “They attacked us with their spears. Some even lunged at us with rocks. These were clearly the fiercest of their warrior class. We called them the Ghost Battalion, as their hair was uniformly gray and unkempt. They attacked without warning, without provocation. Why, we had barely processed 150 Hunins that day – a rounding error of their total number, at most. We were doing them a favor, really. If we hadn’t come along to cull from their herd, they would have likely starved.”

 

Gaarth remained skeptical of the ‘favor’.

 

“Some of their weapons penetrated our armor and actually left marks on us! Grand Thracin Leonara herself – my grandmother’s second in command – lost her life that day, having fallen back into a pulse cannon amplifier. I can still smell the scent of her ashes, vaporizing in the wind that night. We devoured them all, of course. We wept as we tore through their entrails, vowing never to be taken by surprise again. My grandmother sent orders back to Matriarchy Command to execute 1,000 of the remaining Dilintiri for creating faulty machinery and abetting the Hunin savages. It took three cycles for the orders to reach their former homeworld. But, the message was received!” she snarled, slamming her clawed fist against the wall.

 

The message, thought Gaarth, might not have been received at all. The remaining Dilintiri who hadn't been devoured by then were long since removed from their ancestors who created those generators. By that time, all of their industrial base, universities, and related institutions had been wiped out. If those remaining Dilintiri had been there – instead being over 800 light years away – they could no more maintain those systems than Truly Frightening Ravenosa herself. If there was any message, he thought, it was that we only achieved our status due to our size, our strength, our hide, and our claws. As always.

 

“How long have we known each other, Gaarth?” she asked, swatting away a communications drone with her tail. It veered and spun around, whirring and beeping angrily as they passed.

 

“Since the Fek uprisings, My Lady,” Gaarth replied, nervously twitching his fingers.

 

“Do you know why I hired you then?” she asked.

 

“My Lady, from what the others have told me, it appears you may have… devoured my predecessor, slightly. He no doubt had it coming, given the exhausting stress of your duties,” he nodded sympathetically.

 

“You are correct. I did devour him. I did so in front of the bridge crew and left them and the drones to clean up the mess. Do you know why?” she asked, pausing to acknowledge a group of junior officers who stopped to salute her.

 

“I am positive you had your reasons, Exquisiteness. Someone in your role cannot be expected to rationalize your actions each time you do or do not choose to devour someone, particularly not for a lowly male such as me…”

 

Palmetta cut him off again. “I devoured him because he could not consistently meet our agricultural quotas.” she said. “I grew tired of his excuses. If he could not feed the Matriarchy, the Matriarchy will feed off him. Yet, you consistently do the opposite.”

 

Gaarth, still two steps behind her, nodded silently in appreciation.

 

Palmetta continued. “You have overperformed at nearly every quarter for the last three cycles. It took some time for you to grow into your role as Drunin but you have adapted well. Supply chain is clearly your strong suit, more so than even some females. Admittedly, this job is perhaps a better fit for your gender.” she said, dismissively, waving her hand. “You continue to take care of this minutiae while we attend to leading and other matters of strategic importance. You are promoted to the rank of Abletto Drunin.”

 

“Of course, My Lady.”

 

This of course was fantastic news and Gaarth appreciated the promotion. He really, really did. Yes. Abletto Drunin was his dream job. He knew he could meet or beat those quotas easily, at first. Until she raised them again. And again.

 

He also realized that by being a male in such a high profile role in an empire dominated by females, he would now have a large target on his back. Abletto Drunin afforded him some protection from them, but who would protect him from Palmetta? She’d devoured his predecessor. She may have even devoured the person before that, too.

 

He would have to keep producing at ever-increasing numbers each cycle, from now until infinity, until he himself was eventually, inevitably devoured. This, he thought grimly, will not do. No. Not at all.

 

His mind turned to the only remaining option.

 

Escape.

Copyright 2023 - SFS Publishing LLC

Evaluation

Heavy is the head that runs logistics

Paul Cesarini

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