Starcutter - 12. Chapter 12

His birthday was a small affair in the Captain's ready room. Gabe, Meg, and the Captain were the only ones in attendance, but it was more than Ryle had ever had. Cook had prepared a nice meal and even baked a small cake with a seed and honey glaze. It was not very loud, but it was a joyous occasion. Cana did not celebrate the birth. It was only when they passed that the people whose lives the deceased touched would gather to remember and laud the departed.

“I can't believe this. I really can't.” Ryle was still stunned over the fact that after eighteen years, he need never call another person master ever again. He could tell them what he really thought and where to stick it.

“Well, it's true.” Gabe smiled at him and held him closer. With the Captain, and thus Meg, knowing that they were so close, neither felt any need to hide it while in this small group. The Captain's only order was that their relationship did not get in the way of their duties.

Meg came in with a few wrapped boxes. “It's an Earth tradition to give a gift to the birthday person. The Captain opted out since he paid for this.”

“I never expected any of this. I'll do my best to be an asset to your crew, Captain. You know that.” Ryle knew how much he owed the Captain just for his freedom. The rest, like the respect he had been shown, could never be repaid.

“I do. Now, no more talk of obligations. This is a day for good memories.”

Meg passed Ryle the gift from her. He opened the simply wrapped package and stared. Inside were his official crew uniforms and a set of fine dress clothing. The black would look great with his coloration.

“Meg...this is silk.” Ryle held up the shirt that was black with gold and red embroidery.

“Yup. Real silk too. I had some set aside for a new shirt for the thundering stomper over there, but he doesn't like silk. Which he neglected to tell me until after I bought it. It's been sitting in storage for a few years.” Meg could swear he was about to float away when he pressed his cheek against the fabric. “No crying on it, now. Silk is a bitch to wash.”

“I won't. I know how hard silk is to get clean. White silk with wine stains.” Ryle was trying not to laugh.

“You didn't,” said Gabe with a huge grin. “Which asshole?”

“Third one. Textile merchant out of OS Orion. Funny event, painful punishment.” The way he said it made it clear that he was coming to terms with his former life. It would never go away, but he could look back on it without crying.

“I bet.” Gabe handed him the smaller box. It was not wrapped, but it was tied off with a nice bow.

Ryle opened it up and saw something odd. “It's a sprocket. On a chain.”

“It's from the first fighter we shot down the other day.” Ryle grinned. “Look at the back.”

Ryle turned it over and looked at the simple inscription. It was in Canari, or as close to it as the human alphabet could make of it. It translated to “You are the wing, I am the talon, we are one.” It was an old Canari saying, something that would be said when courtship was started. The male pledging his protection to the female who would carry his heart wherever she flew.

“Gabriel...this is...I don't know what to say.” Gabe fastened it around his neck. For a person who wore a slave collar for all of his life, the necklace felt oddly similar. Yet the feelings behind this were anything but enslaving.

“Then don't say anything.” Ryle didn't. He just kissed him.

“You two are so cute together,” Meg chimed in. The pair blushed heavily.

“I do have one surprise. You'll get it when we dock at OSO,” said the Captain with a slightly mischievous smile. He didn't tell anyone about this either, not even Meg. With so much changing on his ship, it was nice to be fully in command again in one area. “Now, let's eat before the food turns.”

* * *

The crew took the changing of Ryle's status differently. He had gone from nothing to someone in moments, and it was because of some fancy flying and the rumored relationship to Gabe. The pilots and bay crews welcomed him with open arms and a few even asked his advice on how to get the jets to move like he made them.

“I don't really know how I did it,” he said with a flush. “I just did. Gabriel let me do it, so I tried my best for him.” It was no secret the devotion Ryle had for Gabe. “I do know that I could feel where I was supposed to go. It's within me.”

“Cana blood,” said one pilot. “Wish I had that in me. Might save me some headaches.” The pilots laughed at that as they all knew the Captain cracked down hard on any pilot who took more damage than was necessary.

Most of the crew, though, didn't like it. How could this little thing be treated so well? True, he ripped Darth up and protected Meg, which was a huge point of favor from the Captain, and yes, he could fly better than the rest, but otherwise he was useless. Frail, weak, timid...he would be eaten alive in a real fight. A few slaves were glad for his freedom, and although they could never say it, they hoped that they could one day have the same chance as Ryle. Others were jealous of his new status and shunned him when they saw him.

Some of the Marines respected the decision, and while they had no fondness of the Cana, they did not let it get in the way of doing what the Captain ordered, which was to teach him how to fight. Marine Captain Keel, the one who warned Ryle about the crew, took it upon himself to drill the hybrid in certain styles.

“Now, kid, I seen you when you look at them blades. You can't think about holding one yet, can you?”

“No, sir.” A slave would have been killed for touching a knife for any master other than Gabe.

“That's fine. Nature gave you daggers of your own. But you're a tiny one, and you might not want to get in close.” Ryle knew the man was not being insulting, he was simply stating a fact. “I'm going to train you to shoot and to fight with them claws. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what, Ryle? I think I'm going to like you. You respect authority. And, if you and Gabe ever call your secret love affair quits, I put in my bid.” He laughed at the look on Ryle's face. It was one part horror and two parts sarcasm. “Back to business.”

Change rained fast in Ryle's life. New duties, new interactions, new place within the crew...everything was new. Everything except Gabe and Meg. They were the only things that did not change one bit. They still treated him the same. Meg treated him like a little brother or her son, which Ryle liked. Not having a mother for most of his life, he liked that a female felt those protective feelings towards him. He knew it was more than that. She cared for him. Cared about his feelings and his thoughts. Cared to see that he was looking healthy.

“Ryle,” she asked a few short weeks after his birthday, “did you want me to trim your hair? It's getting a bit long.”

“I...guess. I never cared about it before.” He looked cross-eyed at the strands he held out. The color was returning, the golds, yellows and reds that he recalled so many had loved when he was young. His tail was growing in, too. Long feathers with the same colors that shimmered in the right light, tipped with a vibrant green. He wondered what his wings would have looked like.

“Have a seat,” Meg said and grabbed the scissors. Ryle didn't even flinch when she came over to him with them. “You know you have a huge cowlick back here.”

“A what? I've never seen a cow, let alone had one lick me.”

She laughed. “It's a term for hair that never behaves the way it should. Yours goes along the back of your head.”

“Oh. It's my crest. Cana males grow a crest when they reach a certain age. It's supposed to attract a mate. I always ripped mine out.” Ryle was still healing from the years of self-abuse. There were small patches at his temples that would never grow hair again.

“May I style to show it off? I think Gabe might like it.” She knew that he would.

Gabe was a huge fan of Ryle's hair. Seeing the colors, a striking contrast to his deep purple eyes, made him want to touch Ryle all the time. It was almost a compulsion, but he still didn't want Ryle to feel uncomfortable with his touch.

“I doubt he would notice.”

“Why the sulky tone? Gabe loves you.” Meg wondered what she had said to trigger this huge change in his mood.

“I know he does. It's...he doesn't...he won't...” Ryle couldn't say it, not even to Meg.

“I think I see the problem. You guys haven't made love yet.” Ryle blushed very red.

“No. I don't even know if he wants to.” He sat there while she cut his hair. “I know he likes touching me, likes that we hold each other, but he has never tried to go farther than that. It's...hurtful. Before, I would have been glad that a human male didn't fuck me.” Hearing that tone come out of Ryle made her wince. “I'm no virgin for either genders of your species. I know what is involved in pleasing both. Maybe that's it. Maybe he knows more about my past and doesn't want used goods.”

“That's bullshit, and you know it.” Meg was adamant. “Ryle, I can assure you that Gabe doesn't think of you as used goods.”

“Then what else could it be?” he asked quietly.

“Is Gabe ready for it? You would be his first, if all the conversations we've had were any indicator.” Meg and Gabe had a few of them where he had divulged how much he wanted Ryle but didn't want to push his affections on him without knowing Ryle wanted to be his first. Gabe was very willing and very able, but Ryle's emotional and mental health meant more to him than getting laid for the first time.

The look of surprise on Ryle's face was comically cute. “That's right. He's still a virgin. Maybe he's not ready for it. Or maybe he wants to wait to make sure.” Ryle's mood swings were not new to Meg, but they did catch her off guard some times.

“He's probably ready.” She knew he was. Any almost seventeen year old boy was ready to have sex at the drop of their pants.

“You think so?”

“Yup. So, when you get him alone tonight...just go for it. It's not the most romantic way, unless you plan it ahead of time, but I can say Gabe would not say no once he sees you with this hair style and that cute butt of yours.” She took him over to the mirror, and his eyes widened.

His hair was close cut near the front but swept up in the back to show off his crest. Ryle ran his hands through it, seeing his crest spring back up into place. He looked every bit the Cana adult male no matter the fact that he was a runt. The only thing missing were the patches near his temples that would have been grown long.

“Meg...you work wonders.”

“Well, with such good material, it's hard not to.”

He grinned at her. “Meg...can you help me?”

She nodded.