Page 3 of Saved By the Servali

Layla was nursing two cubs who were both starting to eat soft solid foods. He always made her a menu with extra calories and made sure to create nutritionally balanced and supportive mealsfor the cubs—and if he put a little more effort and worry into Alana’s food because she was the first generation of females to be born after Queen Fever killed or sterilized most Felid females, he thought he could be excused. Of course, his knowledge of what humans needed to function at their peak was still a work in progress, as was his understanding of the nutritional needs of Felid cubs born of human mothers. On that second matter, there was no other source to consult since these children were the only two of their kind—unless you counted the ones still developing.

Wendy was three months along in her pregnancy and nestled protectively in her hulking Tigerite husband’s lap. She had undergone such terrible treatment on Sapien-Three, and although Kamau understood her desire to have a family as soon as possible with the Tigerite she loved, the Servali was worried her poor little human frame wasn’t strong enough. Her meals were dense with protein, calcium, and iron. He always leaned heavily on Tigerite spices and styles of cuisine to tempt her (and her tense, overprotective husband) to eat seconds.

“We’ll take our breakfast back to our room,” Jade and Ardol took their plates and practically ran back to their quarters.

Another pair trying to conceive with medicine and miracles. Kamau made a note to return to his nutrition and dietary research manuals after breakfast. Maybe he could work on his course on human nutrition before bed. There certainly would be no time earlier in the day!

Between the Felids, Canids, hybrid cubs, nursing human Queens, pregnant human Queens, and now a human-Leopardine couple trying to produce a cub... He was busy from before first watch until late at night, running the kitchen with no help and minimal information on several fronts.

“Um. Do you want some help?”

Kamau almost dropped his fried batter balls and the citrine syrup to dunk them in. “Huh? Help with what?” he demanded of Dax.

“You just seem... busy. All the time,” the little human male with his mop of blonde curls looked up at him with a genuine smile. “Aside from helping with the manual, brainless stuff and taking some nursing courses from the Doc, I have some free time. I could help do something. Peel, chop, wash?”

Kamau grinned and shrugged. “That’s so kind. I will let you know, but I think you might have more pressing matters...” he dropped his voice and shifted his gaze to Skyla as she entered the room. The curvy Dholian Canid female’s face lit up like it was a festival night at the sight of Dax, “I think you should use those extra hours in study.”

“Yeah, I know. I never had any higher math and science classes, so Layla is hooking me up with some courses I can take onboard, beamed in from Bastet Mercy Teaching Academy.”

Kamau shook his head and whispered behind a spotted paw. “Study Canid courtship rituals, my friend.”

Now Dax seemed to sprout spots, his cheeks dotted with bright pink splotches while his neck was brick red. “But... But she’s a former field medic, and she’s an engineer. I’m...”

“The one she is coming to with her ears forward and her tail—oh, such a tail—swishing high.”

“Oh!” Dax promptly turned, fell over one wheel of the serving cart, and would have kissed the floor, but instead, his face planted firmly between the generous mounds on Skyla’s chest. “Oops!” he cried in a muffled voice.

“You can’t be that clumsy and be a med assistant,” Skyla laughed softly and helped him straighten up. “You and I should study after your class with Marcus.”

“Okay!” Dax agreed breathlessly.

Kamau looked at all the couples in love or heading that way. Young love, he thought, looking at Wendy as she rested in Talos’ arms.

And lust.He smirked as Skyla pushed her thick plume of a tail backward to brush against Dax’s chest. The silly human didn’t realize the sign of heat or attraction, bless his primitive little brain.

Race doesn’t seem to matter. Felid, Canid, or Human—even Avians would probably find love aboard theComet Stalker.

Unless, of course, you’re a skinny Servali chef, not a heroic Leonid captain, or a rich playboy Leopardine, or a fierce Tigerite officer.Kamau turned away before anyone accused him of staring.

Pity and bitterness were the enemies he killed daily with overwork and exhaustion. He wrapped his paws around the handle of the serving cart and began to push off.

“If you have anyborde, I would gladly take a shot in my tea,” Marcus, the only other unattached Felid, came to stand beside him, paw outstretched for his morning brew.

“How do you know aboutborde?” Kamau laughed in amazement. “Leonids would never drink such a thing. That’s a poor Felid’s drink.”

“Ah, ah. Not all Leonids are the snobs the rest of Felix Orbus thinks we are. Remember...” his graying mane seemed to droop, “my wife was Servali. Our cubs would have been Leovali.Bordewould have been their birthright.” He managed a sad chuckle. “You rarely see Leovali cubs, do you? There would have been four more in the world if she hadn’t been taken when she was... Well. We can drink to them.”

Kamau swallowed. Sometimes, he forgot that you could pretty much count on every living Felid to have a thousand sad stories just like Marcus’s. “I havebordein my private stock, sent from my father’s harvest, made by my uncle. The finest maizegrains, fermented in red clay, buried in the Serval Desert for forty weeks.”

“Stop, you’re making my tail twitch. I’ll be by after breakfast.”

“Maybe make it after the evening meal, Doc. Ardol said my shipment from the Milky Way Intergalactic Port should arrive today. I’ll be busy for most of the day and probably most of tomorrow.”

“It’s good to keep busy,” Marcus said with a knowing nod, taking his tea.

“Truer words,” Kamau sighed, pouring himself a cup.

For a moment, the two males shared the silence, sipping peacefully. “Is it harder to see the cubs and Queens when you’ve lost them, or when you’ve never had them, do you think?” he finally risked asking the question he could not bear to ask his father or uncle.

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