by Kiersten Fay
Marik glanced at Sebastian. His features were poised in the political arrogance he donned whenever he wanted to mask his emotions, but Marik knew Sebastian wel , and the man was hanging on every word of the conversation.
“Tel me Analia, what kinds of foods do you like?”
Uncomfortable again Analia looked at her feet while she answered. “Foods? I … uh, I liked the thing Sebastian brought for me this morning”—pause
—“and the food I had in sickbay was delicious.” At that she smiled brightly at Marik, almost pul ing a chuckle from him. He hadn’t chuckled in years.
“You don’t have to stroke my ego. I’m already very ful of myself. I mean what foods did you eat before you … came to be with us?” Was he actual y being polite to her? There was something about her, the way she stood, spoke, even the way she careful y avoided his eyes while stil keeping her head high.She couldn’t be…
With a blush on her cheeks and a look of pain on her face she replied, “I was only given a few things to eat, and I wouldn’t know them by name.”
Marik felt his features grow dark. Did the word “given” mean she hadn’t had a choice? Noticing the change in mood Sebastian shifted his eyes between Marik and Analia, his mask of arrogance starting to dissolve. “Marik?”
Marik ignored him, concentrating on Analia. “Describe the food to me.”
Once again, she looked at her feet and shrugged a shoulder. “Green, sometimes brown, mushy … or … chunky sometimes.”
Realization hit him like a smack in the face. “Were you a slave?” Analia’s head snapped up at Marik,and then to Sebastian. Her mouth opened to speak but no sound came out.
Sebastian gave a slight choking sound and fixed his gaze on Analia. “Anya?” He rasped.
Anya?
She just shook her head. Marik knew he was correct, she had been a slave, same as he—it was written in her face, her demeanor. What remains to be seen are the variations of their scars. How long had she been enslaved?
Obviously she had wanted to keep this a secret, he understood her need, but the beans were spil ed. Marik felt the need to lighten the mood. “So you must have been a servant of some kind.” He stated.
Her eyes bounced quickly back and forth as if she were in a panic, ready to bolt. She didn’t speak, didn’t look up.
“Analia, look at me.” She didn’t. “Look at me!” Marik’s voice was firm but the harshness was gone.
Final y, stark eyes snapped to his. He could see the torment settled behind her eyes.
“I was a slave too.” He admitted. Marik hated to talk about that time, and would not reveal more than he had to, but he wanted her to feel comfortable, and to know that this revelation wasn’t something that would be held against her. For some reason he wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. He couldn’t stand her shame, which reflected his own.
Wide eyed she whispered. “You were?” When he nodded she added, “What … what did they force you to do?”
Once again her phrasing made him uneasy, Sebastian too, he noted. “I was forced to do many things, mostly involving my strength. I was like an animal to my keepers. But I am free now, thanks to Sebastian, and I try not to think of it anymore.” He didn’t want to ask her the same question. He could only imagine what someone would want from a female as beautiful as she. He looked to Sebastian wondering if he was thinking the same thing. He looked as though he were nearingtheEdge.
For a demon, the Edge was like a place inside al demons where reason was lost and rage takes over. A demons rage becomes overwhelming, and his strength increasestenfold. Release comes from either lashing out violently,orsexual release. With training it could be a useful tool in battle. But outside of the battle field a demon on the Edge, with no focus to unleash his rage, was the most dangerous creature in the universe. Marik knew that feeling, had been to the Edge himself and knew he needed to calm the situation.
Moving to the food counter, he cut a slice of his most tender meat of the day, and set it on a smal plate in front of Analia. “Try this and tel me what you think.”
Picking up the morsel she smel ed it first, analyzing the scent. Then she took a smal bite and chewed methodical y. After swal owing, her features turned delightful. “Mmm, that tastes good. But I think the thing I had this morning is stil my favorite.” She smiled wide at Sebastian.
Sebastian eased a bit but was stil close to the Edge.
Marik chose a soup dish next and offered it to Analia. Instead of taking the spoon he held out for her, sheheldthe bowl to her lips and took a smal sip.
“Mmmmm. Remarkable. What other kinds of foods are there?”
Marik caught himself laughing. Actual y laughing. Abruptly he stopped himself,then got a devilish idea. He went to his storage cooler and emerged with a covered dish. “I’d like to conduct a little experiment if you don’t mind.” Marik winked at Sebastian who raised an eyebrow. Marik presented the dish to Analia and lifted the lid.
Sebastian snorted, and ran a hand down his face.
Analia was not oblivious of their exchange and warily took an item from the platter.
Analia was worried. They had acted strangely about this last pile of food. Where Sebastian was brooding,he now had a slight curl to his lips. Marik too,was hiding a grin.
When Marik had admitted to being a slave she had seen the truth of it in his eyes. She was stunned by the information. The disclosure gave her new hope. Hope for the very real possibility of living free.
The smal brown,pebbled mound of food didn’t look appetizing or impressive in any way. But she didn’t want to be rude and refuse. Plus the boys were now watching her with such interest, so she popped a piece into her mouth.
She didn’t chew at first, cautiously testing the flavor. The item began to soften to the shape of her mouth and instantly her taste buds were engulfed by rich, intense, flavor, bursting through her. The silky smooth texture caressed her tongue, as the sweetness rippled against her taste buds. Nothing could taste as good as this. Savoring the decedent new food she let it sit, melting and coursing through her mouth, pressing it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, before final y it dissolved into a warm liquid puddle and slid down her throat. The loss of it left her craving more.
Hearing the soft chuckles of both men she opened her eyes, she hadn’t even realized she had closed them.
“No matter the species, every woman loves chocolate.” Marik laughed.
Their wide grins made her smile too. Sebastian had softened completely, looking more relaxed than before, his features more handsome than ever. It made her imagine whathemight taste like, she licked her lips. His eye caught the movement and, though his smile slowly fel , his eyes became heated.
“Your eyes are turning color.” He said.
Turning color?His statement brought her back to her senses. “What do you mean?”
He continued his intense gaze, the honey gold of his eyes melting, oozing with unspoken promises. She shivered. He shook his head. “They’re normal again, but they almost looked silver a second ago.”
“I saw it too,” Marik said. “When she was looking at you.”
Analia didn’t know what they were talking about. Her eyes don’t change colors.Do they?
“It could be a trait of her kind.” Marik turned to her. “Is that true?”
“I don’t know of my kind. As far as I know, I’m al that’s left.” The thought that she might be the last of her people always saddened her. “My mother died when I was stil young and after that …” she trailed off. “I was alone after that.”
Marik gave her a look of compassion. “This is not important now. We have work to do, and as it seems, I have a lot of training to do.” He nodded his dismissal to Sebastian. Analia was slightly stunned at that.The captain being dismissed by the cook?But Sebastian merely nodded in return,and turned to leave without another word or look in her direction. Her heart sank slightly as he disappeared. Why? She didn’t know. What was she expecting? A,good luckordon’t sc
rew this upmaybe. Was she disappointed?
“Do you like to be cal ed Anya or Analia?” Marik asked.
Analia gave pause. She didn’t dislike it when Sebastian cal ed her Anya. It made her feel more connected in some way to her new life.A new name for a fresh start. But her mother, or possibly her father, had named her Analia. “Either is fine,” She said, undecided.
With no more questions, Marik started by showing her how to wash a dish. It wasn’t difficult to catch on. Wash in warm water with soap, rinse, let dry.
Easy. Leaving her to it Marik walked to the other side of the gal ey to begin cooking. Analia washed every dish til it gleamed. The work was satisfying even though her hands were getting pruned. As she scrubbed, she could hear people ordering through the large countertop window that connected thesalonwith the gal ey. Resisting the urge, she wanted to peek around her corner by the sink to see al the new faces.
When Analiafinished al the dishes she waited for Marik’s approval. Randomly he picked up and examined many dishes—looking for mistakes she assumed—final y, he commended her work,and then showed her around the rest of the gal ey. After demonstrating where everything belonged he showed her the walk-in cooler where the perishable foods were kept, the walk-in cupboard where canned and dried foods lined the shelves, and the cooking area where she was never to go near unless he told her otherwise. Analia clung to his every word,not wanting to make a mistake.
Just then someone yel ed across the counterfor something cal edrake stew. Marik cringed. “The one thing I can’t stand is being ordered at,” he commented for her ears only, while fil ing a bowl with a chunky liquid that tingled deliciously in Analia’s nostrils. He handed the bowl to the man who had ordered it,and came back to her with a smile playing on his lips. “That’s why you are about to start your real job.”
Analia looked at him sideways.
“When someone comes in,you’re going to go out there and take their order, then bring it back to me.I’l cook it and plate it and you’l bring it to them. Can you do that?”
It sounded simple enough and the thought of being able to meet people up close, talking with them, was exhilarating. “I can do that.”
Heshooed her towards the door, “Go on then.”
With a little too much excitement, she walkedthroughthe door that led to the salon. Looking around she saw most of the tables were empty. One table was occupied by three people, a woman and two males. At another table there were two males. Their dress was distinctly individual and their races varied to the extreme. Neither table seemed to have placed an order yet. The man who had just ordered a moment ago sat alone atatable in the corner.Analiaapproached the table of three.
The female had short spiky brown hair, and a smal frame. Near her hairline started an intricate deep blue tattoo that swirled in a tight pattern, growing larger and gradating to green,as it traveled along her hairline and down her neck, disappearing where her clothing hugged her shoulders. Her dress was a deep blue that skated down her body past her ankles where a pair of black open-toe shoes peaked out. Both men were blond, handsome in different ways and dressed in the same clothes, tan button down shirts with dark brown pants and heavy black shoes—A uniform, perhaps, to identify their jobs.
None of them featured the horns that Sebastian, Marik, and Sonya did. Out of habit Analia looked at their ears—constantly seeking her own kind—they were nothing like her pointed ones. She fought the usual twinge of disappointment.
It wasn’t until they noticed her approach that they stopped their conversation and looked at her. Her nerves caught up with her. She had no idea what she was doing. She almost forgot why she had approached them to begin with. Marik said totake their orderso she would start with that.
“Hi, my name is Analia.” Her voice only slightly quivered. “May I take your orders?”
Al eyebrows rose as they gaped at her. The two men at the other table stopped talking and focused on her as wel . She tried to smile but was sure it looked forced. Final y, one of the males spoke.
“Hi Analia, I’m Xandar. You’re that girl aren’t you? That stowaway?”
“I am.”
“You’re cute.” He stated. The other two let out a short laugh.
Analia tried not to blush, and kept her face blank. “Thank you.”
“You’re working for Marik?” She nodded. “Don’t let him boss you around too much. He can be a tight ass.”
Analia didn’t know what to say to that so she focused on her job instead. “Are you ready to order or should I come back?”
Xandar’s gaze didn’t waver, his staring started to become uncomfortable. She told herself it was because being stared at was entirely new to her. Xandar leaned back in his chair and studied her from head to toe. “Technical y you’re not part of the crew are you?”
“No,” she offered. “I’m not. I’l be leaving the ship once the current commission is completed.”
“So that means you’re not against the rules.”
The women snorted and spoke with a strange accent that Analia had never heard before. “Like you fol ow the rules anyway, leave the poor girl alone and just order already. Little Analia I’l have the shroomeak salad.”
Analia nodded and turned her attention to the other male who hadn’t yet spoken.
“Rake stew.” He said.
She then focused on Xandar who was stil looking at her likeshewas on the menu.
Final y, he spoke. “I’l do the rake stew as wel .”
She nodded and turned away, walking to the other table to take their orders. The two men were both slightly dusted with black stains on their clothing and skin. Analia decided that, by their messed appearance, they must be mechanics or work closely with the engines of the ship. One man had an upturned nose and a set of long thin horns,nestled just behind ears that rose slightly above his bald head. They were nothing like Sebastian’s short stubbly horns.
The man’s demeanor would look menacing, if it wasn’t for his kind eyes. The other man seemed to be made of wrinkles—his face, arms and neck, even his eyelids had wrinkles on them—though the wrinkles didn’t make him look old.
Both men ordered rake stew. Analia reentered the gal ey to relay the orders to Marik,then asked, “What is rake stew?”
“It’s made up of whatever meats I have available when I begin to make it, combined with vegetables and my own special blend of spices. It slow-cooks for three days before it is ready to be served. It just went on the menu this morning so you’l be getting a lot of orders for it.”
Marik was right. Most orders throughout the day were for rake stew. With every table she grew more and more comfortable in her new position, and began to approach each table with confidence.
The questions were the same with each table. Where did you come from? Why did you sneak onto the ship? Where are you headed next? What species are you? She tactful y dodged the difficult questions and real y didn’t know how to answer the last two.
As she served the crew,she also observed them. They were al so different from one another, completely different species sitting together laughing and talking as though there were no differences between them. A man with smal tentacles cascading from his neck sat across from a woman with four eyes.
At another table a woman with red skin shared stories with two women with larger than normal eyes that seemed to glow multicolored.
She also noticed how happy everyone seemed. Everyone smiled at her and were mostly polite. The atmosphere was easy-going and relaxed. There was a comforting energy al around her.
Maybe she didn’t need to find her own kind. Maybe there was a place for her, like this, where different species lived in peace together. Maybe there was a place for her on this very ship. What if she could stay?
The thought was heady. After only a day of mingling with the crew she had al owed herself to feel like one of them. Even though she knew she would never be like them, not real y. Not with her ability, ever-present and threatening her peace. But if she coul
d keep it hidden, buried, there would be no reason for any of them to covet her for her gift.
Two more females entered. They looked young, teenagers maybe. One looked similar to the woman with the intricate tattoo. She had the same swirl pattern that framed her face, only hers varied in color from oranges to yel ows and deep reds. Analia thought it looked beautiful.
The other girl had bril iant blue hair that cut off just above the shoulders, and her skin was a silky pale color. They stood for a moment surveying the room that had fil ed rapidly with patrons, until one had spotted her and pointed for the other. They stood on tip-toes to get a better look atAnaliabefore grabbing a table near where they entered.
Analia weaved through the crowded room to reach them, they whispered intoeach other’sear as she came close. “Hi,” Analia said and introduced herself for the thousandth time that day. Then came the questions in such hurried rushes,that she didn’t have time to respond to al of them. She looked around the room and pondered the crowd. Many faceswouldglanceher way, then quickly turnaway.Hushed whispers fil ed the room. It seemed al were focused on her in some way. She was a curiosity of sorts, Analia realized.
She almost laughed out loud, after so many years in isolation she almost felt crowded. The feeling was so foreign to her, she reveled in it.
Analiaturned back to the girls and tried to answer their questions adequately, nearby conversations died down to listen in. The teen’s questions continued to flow from them like water,andAnaliawas beginning to enjoy the enthusiastic interrogation, while stil skil ful y evading certain questions. Then Analiaasked a fewquestionsof her own, wanting to know everything about the people on the ship.
“How long have the two of you lived on the ship?”
The one with the pattern etched skin spoke first. “I was born on this ship. My mother works in the plant nursery.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Yeah, it’s okay.” She shrugged.
The other girl was eager, “I wasn’t born here but I’ve been herefor five years. My dad is one of the engineers.” She said proudly. “Have you seen the ship?”