Chapter 24: Departure
664 standard years after the signing of the Alliance treaty
Mikhail stood in the cockpit watching as the Jurverian crew prepared to drop their ship into orbit. They would be landing on the night side of the planet. The planet was large, and colorfully lit up in the night. The orbital lanes were full of traffic. Mikhail watched as the pilot skillfully merged into traffic between two large freighters. It was strange stand there and do nothing, watching someone else do the job he’d done for years.
He reached up to touch the vial Galor had given him. It had been returned to him smudged with blood before the Jurverian had left the planet where they had captured Mikhail and killed Galor. Delicate chains brushed the back of Mikhail’s hand. He swallowed and the chains bobbed. The Jurverian had collared him, since he was marked as a flight risk in the contract put out for him. The wire cable of the collar ran under his skin, wrapped twice around his neck, and closed at the metal loop that protruded from his throat just below his Adam’s apple. A strong, fine chain was attached to the loop, a decorative tassel of fine delicate chains hung at the end. If someone pulled on the chain, the cable around Mikhail’s neck would tighten, cutting off his air and the blood to his brain. It was an effective way to control an unpredictable slave.
No one had used the collar against Mikhail, they hadn’t needed to. He had cooperated fully with his captors. They didn’t even feel the need to lock him in his room. It was just protocol. They were supposed to put it on him when they captured him. Only Mikhail’s owner could remove it.
The Jurverian had treated Mikhail well. That first day they had taken him out to a suitable place so that Mikhail could drink in the sun and earth. They let him stay there as long as he wanted. When night fell they had brought him back to their ship and fed him. He was given his own room. All his belongings had been transferred from his room on Galor’s ship to his room on the Jurverian ship. The next day they took him out to the field again. They weren’t finished with Galor yet.
The two Jurverian that were escorting him to the field let him stop at the temple. Mikhail prayed that the gods would give Galor an easy death, even if it meant they needed to take something from his life to keep the balance.
Mikhail’s fingers wandered up to the juncture between his right shoulder and and neck, just above his collar bone. The now familiar hardness of the little metal medallion under his skin met his fingertips. Mikhail traced the tiny raised lines of the Jurverian symbol that marred the smoothness of his skin. It was the same symbol that Galor wore in pin form everyday of his life. Unlike the collar that irritated Mikhail’s body, to the point that Mikhail had learned to harden the flesh around it, the medallion felt like it belonged inside him. It was part of him. The way he was part of Galor’s strange and violent family now.
“I’m taking us into the docks.” The pilot informed the room, his fingers moving nimbly over the ship’s controls.
Mikhail swallowed. Every second that passed was bringing him closer to the moment he would become a slave.
The ship landed and docked. Then the Jurverian crew began their docking duties. Mikhail went back to his room so that he wouldn’t be in the way. He laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling thinking about his mother. What had it been like when she had been brought back here? Did they kill her right away? That made him think of Galor. He rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. The gods hadn’t answered Mikhail’s prayers for Galor to have a quick death.
A knock sounded on Mikhail’s door. Mikhail sat up. “Yes?”
The door opened. The captain stood in the doorway. “We’ll eat and then bring you in. We were going to take you in the morning, but Chentzo wants you back as soon as possible.”
Mikhail swallowed. His hands tightened into fists.
“It’s not too late to drink your vial.”
Mikhail swallowed again. “No. I’m not going to drink it.”
The captain cocked his head. “Why? It makes no sense. Why suffer when you don’t have to?”
“Because sometimes good things come from suffering; and sometimes the best things come after suffering.”
The captain let out a grunt and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, come eat. You’ll have that at least before you go.”
“Thank you.” Mikhail got off the bed and followed the captain to the kitchen.
The crew was crowded around the stove, serving themselves food. Mikhail grabbed a bowl from the counter and served himself along with the others. He sat at the table and ate, enjoying the loud and boisterous conversation going on around him. He had been surprised when he had first joined their ship at how rowdy the Jurverian were. He had expected them to be quiet and steady like Galor. His calmness must have been a trait he had inherited from his Wen mother.
Mikhail caught a few of the Jurverian staring at him at different times during the meal. But they looked away when he looked at them. When they finished eating the captain stood up.
“We’ll be leaving to deliver our prey in twenty minutes. I want all of you to accompany me. Be ready at the hatch. Twenty minutes.” He motioned for Mikhail to follow him and walked back to Mikhail’s room.
He opened Mikhail’s door and stepped in. Mikhail followed him in. The captain looked around the room.“I don’t know if your master will allow you to keep any of this. If you want to leave it here, I’ll put it in storage for you. You’ll probably never get access to it, but no one else will ever have it.” He shrugged.
Mikhail swallowed. His eyes ran over the books Galor had bought him, the stones he had collected, his clothes. He swallowed. “No. Thank you. That part of my life is over. Can you donate it all to the local wheel temple?”
The captain nodded. He looked at Mikhail for a long moment. “There’s still time for you to drink your vial.”
Mikhail smiled tiredly. “Thank you.”
“Okay then. We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”
Mikhail nodded.
The captain stepped out and shut the door.
Mikhail set a fifteen minute timer on his cuff, turned off the lights and laid on his bed. He let his mind drift, he relived his favorite memories with his mother, with Galor. He thought of all the places he’d visited, the people/sentients he’d met.
His cuff vibrated too soon. He got off the bed and knelt down facing the door, raising his hands in prayer. “Please gods.” He whispered. “Give me the strength and the courage to serve well. Please help me to see the beauty in my life. Please give me a master I can respect and serve with honor. Help me to always find satisfaction in my place.” His hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists and then opened them again. “I…please gods, don’t let me bring shame on Galor’s name.” He swallowed and got up.
It took him a moment to open the catch on his cuff. He set it on the dresser, next to his books. He took a final look around the room and then left, shutting the door behind him.