Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Starcutter - 4. Chapter 4
Gabriel went to his quarters and looked at the log. He was not surprised to find several people had tried to get in. Of them he only cared that the second mate had tried twice. Shaking his head, he unlocked it and went in. “Ryle, I'm back.” He looked around the entry room and didn't see the Cana anywhere. He poked his head in the wash room and saw that the tub was still a bit damp. With a small smile he went to the bedroom and saw the mattress was still rolled up. “Ryle?” There was a soft intake of breath and Gabe went to look under the bed. He could see him there looking scared. “Hey. You okay?”
“Someone tried to get in. Loudly. Calling me names and...Like you didn't know.” He had gone from fear to anger in a moment. Nothing Gabe wasn't coming to expect.
“I knew when I got back who tried to get in, but I have been in the mess most of the time preparing the meal for the crew. When you're ready to come out I'll be in the other room. I'm going to call for Meg. She's the one who is going to fit you for clothing.” He stood and left the Cana under there. There was no sense in making him come out if he didn't want to or didn't trust him yet. He went to the com unit on the wall.
Meg here, came the voice over the speaker.
“Meg, I'm back in my quarters. Do you have time to fit Ryle?”
Sure. Give me ten minutes and I'll head over.
“Thanks.” Gabe sat on the couch and tucked his feet under his butt while he grabbed the databook on Cana. He still had a lot of research to do into the species, but he knew some of it did not apply as he didn't think Ryle was born on the homeworld or if he was he hadn't spent much time there. He didn't have the full musical tone to his voice that Cana had if they were raised there.
Gabe was lost in thought when he noticed something. Ryle had come and was sitting in the corner between the sofa and the wall. He hadn't even seen or heard him move at all and he was right there. “Sneaking up on me?” Ryle gave him an evil smile. “Good to know you'll kill me in my sleep.” That made the male blink. “I mean if you wanted to hurt me head on you would have had all the opportunity while I was distracted. Since you didn't, I expect to not wake up one morning.”
“That...is morbid.” Ryle was visibly shocked.
“When you live on this ship, you get use to the macabre.” Ryle trembled a bit. “I'm joking with you. I would love to wake up every morning, so please don't kill me in my sleep. If I ever do something to hurt you or offend, let me know then and there. Please.” Saying please made his eyes widen. “No one has asked before, have they?”
“No. It's always been orders.”
“Well, I don't like ordering people around unless it is an emergency or they're being dicks.” By his tone, Gabe guessed he hated being ordered about. “Meg will be here soon. I am going to take the cuffs off of you.” He produced the key that held on the gloved cuffs that kept Ryle from scratching the hell out of anyone. “You know the amount of trust I am giving you, right? Meg is one person the Captain cares about on this ship and she gets hurt, we die.” Ryle shrank back a bit. He didn't like the sound of death. “Could you come here please?” The slave stood and came over. Slowly Gabe set the electronic key against the lock and there was a beep and click as the cuffs came off. Ryle threw his hands back, Gabe rolling away from him and getting ready to draw a knife just in case, but he saw that Ryle was turning and shaking his hands to get the cuffs off. Not having very much success, Gabe came over cautiously and held his hands out.
Ryle looked at them for almost a minute before he held his own hand up. Carefully Gabe took them off and set them on the table. The hands of the Cana were long fingered and very dexterous. The three inch talons were sharp enough to cut through a two inch oak board with little drag; a human would be nothing. The skin was tough and looked almost like scales, much like a bird's leg. Ryle slowly flexed his fingers and rubbed at his wrists. “How long have you worn them?” Gabe asked.
“Three months.” He turned his head away and closed his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. If anything goes wrong they have to go back on.” Ryle nodded. He knew that his new owner was different, but different did not imply stupid. Gabe was doing what he could to give him respect and trust within confines of law. “Would you like to trim them later? Your talons I mean.” He got a nod. “Okay. I'll ask the beast handler for something. We have some Terran eagles aboard that the Captain uses to help keep the space mice problems off the ship.”
A knock came at the door and Ryle's eyes got wide and he ran for the bed room. Gabe went to the door and opened it. “Hey Meg. Come on in. Ryle is in the bedroom and will be out in a moment.”
“That's fine.” She came in and stopped when she saw the cuffs on the table. “I'm glad you took those things off his hands. Got to be uncomfortable. While I have a moment I'll set up.” She gave Gabe a wink, knowing that the slave was listening. For Gabe it was a very savvy maneuver on her part. Meg was neutral about slavery, didn't have strong feelings one way or the other as long as they were treated fairly. She did, however, believe that they should be treated with dignity and respect as long as they did the same for others. Slave or Freeman, she treated everyone the same. “Let me see the fabrics you got.”
Gabe grabbed the stuff from the corner. He laid out a few colors of purple, black, cream and some deep reds and greens. “His eyes are almost the shade of the Royal Fleet.”
“Good choices on the fabric then. Has he wings?” Gabe shook his head, his face masking over to stop the outward anger. “No...they...how could they? Oh if I knew who did it I would pilot this ship up their asses myself. That's just cruel.” Her voice was full of anger but her tone was low, trying to keep from startling the slave. “I did some research and found some Cana clothing patterns. They're relatively simple, but I will leave it up to you what I make as the patterns may not apply to him.”
“I'll ask him. When he gets out here. Hopefully soon.” She rolled her eyes but stayed where she was, looking over the fabrics.
“This black and this green would make a striking long shirt favored by his species.” Gabe saw Ryle was edging towards the table, completely soundless. He was wary of this new person in the room.“And when you're done being skittish, Ryle, I would like to get done with this.” His eyes went wide. “I have eyes in the back of my head.” How had she known? Even Gabe wondered.
Ryle came around with his head down and shoulders slumped, hands behind his back. “Meg, this is Ryle. Ryle, this is Meg. As you heard she is upset about how you have been treated.”
“You do me too much honor, Mistress. I am not worthy.”
When she got a good look at him, her eyes went wide. She bit her lips to keep from saying something because she could see the sorry state he was in. “Whoever taught you that phrase should be shot in the balls. You carry your own worth within, a place no one can take it from you.” His eyes flicked up to see her smiling at him. “You're right, Gabe, that is very close to the Royal Fleet. Since you have very little on, this will be quick. Do you feel comfortable removing your top?”
His face said no, but he removed it anyway. Gabe looked at his body, noting some fading bruises along his rib area, but those were nothing compared to the scars he could see wrapping around his torso. Who had beaten him that badly? “Up on the stool, please. I am going to take your measurements and if I touch you any place you don't like, just tell me. I am aware of what they did to you and I need to see your back very briefly, if that is okay.” Ryle got on the stool and faced away, his back rigid but his head hung. His shame was laid bare before them, the long scars where they removed his wings very prominent. “Those fucking bastards. If it's any consolation they did it cleanly. You may turn around now.” He did, his face inflamed with shame and hatred.
Quickly she took the measurements and Ryle did as asked. Every time she asked if it was okay, his eyes widened a bit in shock. To him it was so foreign that someone would ask a slave for permission to do what they wanted. “So Gabey,” she asked while she measured his inseam, “any idea on style?”
“I have a few. Ryle, do you think it appropriate to wear Cana style?”
“I was not born on Canari.”
“So no. Has any style caught your eye before?” Gabe was giving him as much choice in this as he could.
“Anything to cover me up is fine. The rest is always your choice, Master Gabriel.”
At least he used my name, Gabe thought. “Well, we'll make them a bit big on your now so you can grow into them as you put on weight.” Gabe was already pulling up some ideas. The problem was Cana were not fully proportioned like a human. Then were narrower through the hips and shoulders, longer in the limbs. “Something like this?” he asked and showed Ryle the style, which was like a long tunic worn with a belt over a shirt and pair of shorts. “We can leave a slit in the back for your tail when it grows in.”
“If that is your wish,” he replied.
“In other words you hate it. Ryle, please be honest and candid with me. Meg will not raise a fuss if you tell me to go jump out an airlock for being a dumbass.” Meg nodded as she took down measurements.
“The tunic would look odd with how small my frame is, although if you attach the same train in front and back to the shirt I would like that.” Gabe nodded. He also smiled at Ryle who seemed to be waiting for punishment for speaking like that. Where had that mouth gone? Where was the bravado now?
“You heard him. A few like that, some sleeping clothes and some work clothes.” Ryle's eyes narrowed. “Once you're settled and feel comfortable enough with me to move about outside of this room, I'd like you to help me in the kitchens and maybe learn a few things along the way. You don't have to, but I would like the company.”
“We'll see,” was all he said, that same look of anxious fear in his eyes.
“There. All set. You can put your...shirt back on, Ryle. Thank you for cooperating.” He bowed slightly and put his shirt on. “I'm going to get started on these. I'll bring them by when I'm done with yours, Gabey. I can send over some clean things for you, if you would like, Ryle.”
“You don't have to go to the trouble.” This time he didn't seem to be a slave addressing a master. He was being honest. She didn't have to go to the trouble to do it.
“It's my job, don't worry.” She packed up her belongings and walked to the door. “It was nice to meet you Ryle. Maybe, if you feel up to it later, you can help me out around the supply area. With your eyes and nimble fingers I bet you would be great at sewing.” She left them to go do her job.
“So that's Meg.”
“Was she being honest...Gabriel?” There was the pause as he remembered to do as his master said and call him by his name instead of Master.
“Yes. She's a very open person. If she says it, she believes it. I have seen her call the Captain to task for being an ass, punch the first mate in the gut for hurting a slave when he was drunk, and openly praising a good job to anyone who deserved it.”
“Is she your friend?” Ryle still had not looked at him since she left.
“I guess. I mean she's sleeping with the Captain so I don't know how much I can trust her with a secret, but she has always treated me somewhere between a little brother and a son. She's...yeah. I would call her one of two friends I have here. The other is the Cook. He's an odd one to me, but he knows what needs doing and does it with no complaint. He'll raise hell if he catches someone slacking on the job, but he's fair. Treat him right and he'll treat you right.”
Ryle nodded. “Gabriel?” he asked timidly. “Can...can you help me?”
“With what?” He tried to keep his tone even, but he felt this would make or break the deal.
“You have been far kinder than any person I have known. You have shown me more compassion and trust than anyone. I know you don't want me around,” Gabe's heart skipped a beat as he went to comfort him, “but if you ever plan on getting rid of me...just kill me.”
Gabe sat down hard and looked at him. “What?”
Ryle turned to look at him. His eyes were pools of mixed emotions and it was the first time he had seen hope. “I don't want to be turned away and back to the slavers. The way they remove a slave...I don't want to die like that.” Slaves were put to sleep and then killed. It was said to be painless.
“Ryle...”
“Please, Gabriel. Don't let me die in their hands.” His face was so filled with sorrow that it hurt Gabe to look at him. How much pain had he endured? How much misery did he have to got through that helping him was to kill him instead of allowing the slavers to do it?
“I promise that you will die of natural causes or by my hand only.” Ryle nodded and the tears fell. The slave bowed deeply and then ran to the other room and unrolled the mattress. He curled up under the blanket and Gabe could see his small body trembling. Should he go to him? Should he stay there? He didn't know what to do, not one bit.
- 55
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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