Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

Survival Training

Falcon, Viktal, and Daxter looked up from their pointed lecture to the gladiators about how to treat women—when the spaceship flew over their heads.

Viktal frowned. "Who is flying that ship?"

Sighing, Falcon pushed his hand through his neon red hair. He'd relaxed and changed into his Guardian body, to make a point with the used-to-be gladiators. They didn't realize there was an intergalactic police force. To them, it must feel like the Guardians hadn't done their job. He couldn't blame them. There were never enough Guardians to enforce even the strictest of universal laws—when there were innumerable planets.

And now he felt frustrated with himself. "Makayla. I taught her."

Daxter watched the ship until it slipped out of sight. "Do you think that was a good idea? You know all the women are with her."

He took a deep breath. "I think it was a very good idea to teach her. It was important. Where I failed her was in not preventing the pregnancy. She told me it from the beginning how important it was for her to have a choice when or if she would become pregnant. Wanting to discuss the options and decide together. I promised her I could prevent conception until we made that decision. I don't know why that ability failed to work. But she is both angry and worried that she can't trust my word. I'm deeply concerned because human bodies are so frail. Especially when compared to either dragon royalty or the Horde. Her pregnancy will mimic dragon royalty, as is the way of the Guardians, and that scares me..."

"What? What is different? What is there to worry about?" Daxter interrupted, demanding to know what Falcon meant..

Falcon sighed again. "Let's just start with a few simple things. Human women are only pregnant for nine months. I'm afraid our mates will struggle with pregnancies that last over three times that."

"Fuck!" Viktal hissed. "What else?"

Looking at Viktal, he said, "The average weight of a human baby is a little over seven pounds."

All the color drained from Viktal's face. "Oh, hell."

Daxter sighed. "I'm glad I am not Megoth Horde. The babies born to the Horde are almost three times that. Our dragon pups are smaller."

Shaking his head, Falcon chided the man, "Don't think because dragon-babies only weigh about six pounds that you will have it any easier. Multiple births are rare on Earth. About three percent—and almost all of those births are twins. It is very rare for a human to have more than one child, exceptionally rare to have more than two. Humans who have multiple births most often deliver the babies prematurely. Which means before they are due. Premature human infants are at severe risk of death or developing some type of health issue. Especially without the help of their modern medicine. The medical options on Megoth are primitive in comparison, except for what we have on the ship. Tell me, Daxter, are you an only child?"

The man closed his eyes and moaned. "Fuck. No. I have seven littermates. They are... scattered on this and other planets with no will to rule. Why didn't I know this?"

Falcon huffed. "Does Lauren know your mother gave birth to eight dragon-children at one time?" When he shook his head, Falcon continued, "So instead of why didn't I know? You really need to ask yourself, why didn't I take the time to talk to my mate before arbitrarily deciding I wanted to have children? We are all guilty in some way. The question is... What do we do now? I truly believe we've put our mates at risk because we didn't talk to them first. How do we protect them and support the strong women we love at the same time?"

The three men stood silently, staring at the place on the horizon where they'd last seen the ship.

Zandhor cleared his throat.

The men spun on him. "What?" They demanded simultaneously.

He stood tall and confronted the men. "I scared Tallie when I met her. Through ignorance and believing that she would be thrilled to have my attention. I learned how wrong I was. I also learned that talking to her, listening to her, made me smarter. Smarter not only about Tallie but about the way the world... and women think. You can try to come up with a solution to get your females back home and to help them through their pregnancies. But nothing you do right now will be correct." He held up his hand to forestall their bickering.

"None of your ideas will be heard... because first, you need to apologize for disrespecting them. Once they have forgiven you for that, and it might take a while, then you talk to your mates. If you try to come up with solutions for them, nothing will be acceptable. Doing something important without their input, is what got you in trouble in the first place. Your women will know what they need. They will have a pretty good idea of what could be a problem for them. Talking about it together—and finding a solution together—is the only way they will accept your help," he said.

They all scowled at him, and then Falcon brightened. "He is right. Even if we suggested the perfect solution... it would be wrong. Even if it is only wrong because we didn't include them in the discussion."

"So now what? Do we let them go, wherever the hell they went, and just wait for them to come back?" Viktal demanded.

Zandhor cut in, "I would vote no on that. Tallie's never-fiancé could be stalking her and there are other dangers in the desert. But I would suggest that instead of just riding to their rescue, we find them and watch over them to make sure that they are safe. Forcing them to return or pushing ourselves into their space would only increase their anger."

"He's right." Falcon agreed. "And I know where they went. Makayla and all the other women want to dismantle the Siloth ship. I've noticed Kayla and the others like to have something to do when they are mad. Anger energizes them. Viktal and I moved that ship. It now sits close to mine and Kayla's home."

Viktal looked at the two spaceships sitting in the desert. One was Tallie's. The women who came from Dorvan used the other one. "Can you drive one of these?"

Falcon nodded. "Yes. But I think the tunnels are a better idea. One, a spaceship is a pretty big target and Makayla is an excellent shot. Depending on how mad she is, or after talking to her sister and cousin... how mad you two have made her... I don't want to be that target. Two, they won't know we are there. The tunnel ends right by our house. We can camp in it and keep watch over them. Kayla will watch the ship's radar, believing that we'd follow her, and not realize we are in the tunnels."

Zandhor nodded. "She will also wonder why you didn't come after them. And then worry. It is a good plan. I'm going with you. So will my men. If the women see us, we can tell them we're doing survival training."

Falcon clapped him on the back, laughing. "You learned your first lessons well, my friend."