Or maybe I'm just reading too much into things.
I decide to test this. I head into the mess hall. It's mostly empty, with only two of my men present. Dopekh—who used to be head of security and stepped down—is changing out the contents of one of the food dispensers. Another a'ani is eating at one of the tables, his data pad in front of him. They both look up at the sight of me and go still.
No one says anything.
"Is there a problem?" I snap, stalking toward the liquid refreshment center. I stab at one of the buttons. A drinking vessel is deposited and ice-cold liquid pours into it.
"Of course not, Lord Straik." The a'ani at the table—Zaemen—scoops up his data pad and jumps to his feet. "I was just finishing up." He dumps his tray and snags the rest of his protein bar, shoving it into his mouth and hastily exiting out before I can say more. He gives me a respectful nod as he passes, but I can't help but feel…diseased.
As if I'm the biggest problem on the ship.
Except…it's my keffing ship. I'm the one in charge.
I pick up the flute of cold juice and drink it, watching as Dopekh returns to refilling the machines. He doesn't race away like Zaemen does, but there's something slightly off about his demeanor. He seems…nervous. Uneasy.
It just fuels my bad mood. I finish the juice and shove the glass into the disposal slot. "What is it?" I demand. "Something is bothering you."
"Me?" Dopekh averts his gaze and shakes his head, shoving the plas-bag into the refill slot. "I'm fine, Lord Straik. Truly."
"Everyone on this ship is acting strange." I watch as he takes great care with the bag of noodles, and I wonder if it really is related to food. It seems odd, but all of this seems keffing odd. "Are you worried about food, Dopekh? Do the men feel as if they must ration our supplies? I've always encouraged you to eat as you like. We have the funds to cover extra meals, after all, and I won't let my crew go hungry."
Dopekh stares down at the refill bag in his hands. "No one is worried about going hungry, Lord Straik."
"You're certain?"
He nods.
"Because I want my crew to feel comfortable," I continue. "It's important to me that my crew be satisfied." I know some lords like to keep their a'ani on a specific nutritional diet so they won't gain weight, but they also like to keep them as slaves. I'm a firm believer in personal autonomy and that the a'ani are people, just like anyone else. A happy crew is a loyal crew. I've always thought of mine as happy and loyal…but now I'm not so sure. "Are you…satisfied, Dopekh?"
The a'ani goes still, like a creature caught in a trap. I watch his throat work. "Of course, my lord."
"Then why is everyone acting as if there's a problem on board? I know there's a problem. I can feel it."
"There's no problems."
"None?"
"None." But he doesn't sound confident.
I watch him for a moment longer. Then I grunt, toweling at my sweaty face again. "If there was, you'd come to me? You'd say something? I value your input, you know."
He nods again, and I can't help but get the feeling that there's something bothering him. He hasn't moved from his spot next to the food dispensers, almost as if he's glued there.
"Very well. Thank you, Dopekh." I turn to leave, heading for the doors. Maybe a shower and then another long soak in my tub will help ease all this strain from my thoughts. Maybe I'm imagining things. Maybe—
"Sir."
He catches me before I make it through the doors. I turn back toward him, full of hope. "Yes?"
Dopekh looks incredibly uncomfortable. "It's the Star, Lord Straik. It's…how you treated them. Everyone wonders what that means for us."
"Ah." I see now. Because they feel I betrayed the va Sithai brothers, they wonder if they can trust me. It doesn't matter that I have been a fair and just ship captain for the last several years. One weak moment and suddenly my crew feels they cannot trust me. I suppose I deserve that.
But it galls me nevertheless.
"Thank you for speaking up, Dopekh. I will keep this in mind." I nod at him. "And I would never harm the crew. Please share that with them. You are my men. And…we will return for the Star. You have my word on that. This is just temporary."
"Thank you, sir." Dopekh does not sound convinced.
4
RUTH
I thought that guy would never leave.
The moment Straik leaves the mess hall, I knock on the grate that Dopekh is shielding with his body. "Open up," I hiss. "My leg is cramping up!"
He doesn't open up right away, though. Instead, he heads to the door of the mess hall and glances down the halls for a good, long time before returning back to me. I listen impatiently as Dopekh taps the clasp that keeps the grate shut, and then he pulls it off. I slip out with relief, groaning as I stretch my legs.
"You can't stay out long," Dopekh tells me, a worried look on his face. "Lord Straik suspects something."
"Nah, he doesn't." I bend over at the waist, groaning as I stretch my legs out in front of me. When I'm inside the grates, it doesn't seem so bad, but the moment I get in my head that I'm about to climb out, all my muscles suddenly feel tight and uncomfortable and I'm acutely aware of just how little I can move around inside the grates. That's all right, though. Necessary evil and all that. I raise my arms over my head, stretching, because god, it feels good to just…be loose. I pull one arm behind my head, holding it at the elbow. A vague, fragmented memory of a fitness class drifts through my head, quickly gone again. "I promise you, he doesn't know I'm here."
Dopekh doesn't look convinced. "He worries something is wrong."
"He wasn't so worried when he was leaving my friends behind on an abandoned ship," I say lightly. "Also, I need more food." I'm not trying to be callous with Dopekh. He really is the nicest guy. He’s an a’ani, I think. Different than the horns and the silky-looking blue skin of Lord Straik. Dopekh and the rest of the crew have bright, unnaturally red skin, dark hair, and slightly pointed ears. Other than that, they might be human. Slightly overfed, very muscular humans that all have a similar face, sure, but human enough.
And Dopekh's my friend. He's the one that helped me hide away on this ship, but his guilt is getting to him.
I reach out and pat his shoulder awkwardly. "Look. He doesn't suspect a thing. If you had cameras trained on this room, he'd already know I was here, right? You don't, because he has no clue. It's just his guilty conscience and the fact that the crew isn't, like, patting his ass and telling him how amazing he is."
Dopekh's dark brows furrow together and his cheeks grow dark with what must be a flush. "Why would we pat his ass?"
"It's an expression." I think. "So…food? Yes? And something to drink?" I touch my throat, because it feels like a desert. "I am so thirsty and dirty, you would not believe."
That rouses Dopekh out of his guilt. He nods, offering me a half-smile. "You stink, too."