Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Throttle back a touch. Yes, like that. Good. We’ve cleared the docking bay. Now, lay in the pre-set course back to the station.”
Biting his lip in concentration, Frey followed Rone’s instructions.
He was ridiculously pleased at having maneuvered the shuttle away from the last station without mishap and had gotten them on the course back home.
He frowned inwardly. Well, home meaning they returned to the station Frey had been living on with Rone and Preen since Rone had won him.
It wasn’t New World Colony Five, but it was as close to a home as Frey had had since his capture, and living there with his current master was certainly better than living anywhere with Arpell.
They’d just completed their fifth run for Kuren, and while Frey understood that they were smuggling, at least the criminal activity had given Frey a chance to learn how to fly a Travian craft.
Surprisingly, it had been Rone’s idea to give Frey the piloting lessons.
Once the Travian had realized Frey’s interest, instead of admonishing him and shoving a dick down his throat or up his ass to remind Frey of his reason for being, he’d begun teaching Frey.
Ostensibly, it was safer for there to be more than one pilot on the shuttle.
At least, that had been Rone’s stated reasoning.
Still, it mattered to Frey that his alien master saw him as something more than a fuck toy.
Besides, although Frey had become almost inured to being with Rone—certainly he found great pleasure in being in bed with the guy—he still hoped to escape back to his own people.
Being able to competently pilot a Travian craft would prove invaluable for that plan.
“Course is set. All systems functioning at normal levels.” Sitting back in his chair, Frey shot the alien a bright smile. He really was grateful for this opportunity.
Relaxed in his own seat, Rone stared back. “You’ve done well and are quick to learn. I’ll let you try docking when we reach the station. You must have some experience piloting human craft.”
Frey’s gut clenched when the observation kicked up a memory of his old crew. “I was in training, yes.”
“Training? Didn’t your sire teach you?”
“I don’t have a father.” There had been a time when he was very young that he’d resented the lack. Now, with his mother gone, he understood that not ever having someone was nothing compared to losing someone you’d once had.
Rone raised his eyebrows. “No sire? How is that possible? You humans have the same basic physiology as we Travians.”
Okay, every once in a while the differences in their cultures became even more obvious in unexpected ways. Apparently, single motherhood and artificial insemination were two more to put on the list.
“My mother, Bjork, wanted a child, but not a man. So, she had a doctor insert sperm from a donor.”
Rone’s mouth fell open for a moment. “That’s disgusting. Why would a male allow his seed to be used by an unknown female?”
Really? That’s where a Travian drew the line? It was fine for Rone to rape Frey’s ass, perfectly socially acceptable, yet, Frey’s mother having him alone with the help of a strange man was beyond the pale? Sure, that made sense. Frey felt himself getting hot under the collar, literally.
“My mother was the best woman I’ve ever known. She made a good life for me.” He knew his tone bordered on disrespectful and he didn’t care. Although Rone had never hit him, Frey figured his mother’s memory was worth a beating, if it came to that.
It didn’t. Rone held up his palms. “I meant no offense to your mother. I take it she is dead.”
Frey turned his head to stare out into space. “Yes.” To his mortification, tears pricked at his eyes, even though he hadn’t cried over the loss of his mother in a long time.
“My sympathies.”
“She wanted the best for me. Always. That’s why she put our names into the lottery for colonization.
She hoped to raise me in a better environment, one where the air was clean and there was lots of room.
If we’d stayed back on Earth, she would have had the medical treatment she needed.
She left for me and sacrificed her life in the end. ”
“Have you no one else? No other family?”
“No. What little family I had is still back on Earth. When we left, we knew we’d never see them again. Every colonist knows that. It’s part of the deal. A one-way trip.”
“To be truly alone without any family to depend on for the rest of your life is unfathomable to a Travian.”
Frey shifted back to Rone. “Our planet is too crowded and too poisoned, and there are millions of people who want to relocate to other planets. Most will never get a chance. So few planets meet our species’ requirements.
This galaxy was the most promising, so we concentrated on searching out planets here.
We didn’t know we were heading into Travian territory.
We didn’t know that Travians or any other race existed anywhere in the universe. ”
Rone huffed out a breath. “That much is clear.”
“We’d stop with New World Colony Seven, you know. I’m sure my people won’t try to colonize any more planets in this sector, even if you leave Seven alone. I mean, we’re not stupid. You could wipe us off the face of the universe if you wanted. We’re just trying to live our lives in peace.”
Frey didn’t know why he bothered to plead the human case with someone who was a smuggler at best. What could Rone do about any of it, except maybe sympathize with Frey enough to set him free?
Yeah, like that was going to happen. He returned his attention to the control panel, busying himself with nothing in particular and leaving Rone to his own thoughts.
After a while, Rone spoke again. “For what it’s worth, I agree with you. I don’t think my people should care about human occupation on that ball of dust that you call Seven. But, that is not my concern, nor will it ever be, I’m afraid.”
“I know,” Frey said in a soft voice. “It is mine—or it was. The closer colonies, like Six and mine—Five—having been trying to help out people on Seven by running supplies. The war with you Travians might have been short, but it also destroyed a lot of stuff and scorched areas needed for farming. They’re hurting under the occupation,” he added with a glare he couldn’t keep off his face.
If Rone detected the expression, he didn’t call Frey on it. Instead, he asked, “Was that what you were doing when Arpell acquired you?”
Funny, Rone had never asked him before how he’d ended up Arpell’s pet.
Frey had always assumed his new master simply didn’t care.
Rone probably didn’t, yet with the bulk of their journey still ahead of them, he likely asked out of idle curiosity to pass the time.
Frey didn’t want to discuss his capture.
The memory of it was too new, too raw. He had no choice, though.
While Rone was a far kinder master than Arpell, he was no one to trifle with.
And it was his prerogative to pick the topic of discussion, regardless of what Frey thought of it or what kind of emotions it evoked.
Frey briefly considered slipping to his knees and trying to distract his master with an impromptu blow job. In the end, he just answered.
Closing his eyes briefly, Frey nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The honorific tripped easily and automatically off his tongue.
Here on the tiny bridge of the shuttle, Frey thought of Rone as the captain and he the crew.
Calling the male ‘sir’ came naturally in this setting and didn’t feel humiliating.
The title ‘master’, on the other hand, still bothered him, especially as that word escaped his mouth far too easily when Rone’s cock was buried in his ass.
Anyway, he hoped the simple answer would suffice. It didn’t.
“He and his males boarded the ship you were on, I assume.”
Just for a brief, terrible moment, Frey remembered the heart-stopping fear of realizing a Travian vessel chased them.
The weapons fired. The ship’s hull breached by the boarding party.
Smoke burning his nostrils. God, seeing Travians for the first time up close had terrified him.
He’d thought he was staring at his own death, yet had no idea that he would soon wish he had been killed.
The screams of his captain and crewmates being slaughtered, despite their hands being up in surrender, rung in Frey’s ears.
Arpell had raped him the first time right there while blood flowed around them and his butchers raided the cargo meant for Seven.
“Frey?”
He realized he hadn’t answered Rone’s question. He raised his gaze to the male. “Yes. We were trying to deliver supplies to the colony on Seven.” He closed his eyes and turned away. “They stole the cargo and killed everyone but me.”
“Of course they did,” Rone observed in a low tone. “You were the most precious thing on that ship, and Arpell wasn’t so stupid as to miss that.”
Fury rose within him, hot and sudden. More tears welled up and threatened to spill over.
Frey gripped the arms of his chair. “I was not part of the cargo! I’m a person who thinks and feels, and Arpell didn’t care about any of that.
He fucked me on the floor of the bridge with my friends’ bodies lying all around.
I screamed and fought and none of it mattered.
He gave me no more consideration than if I’d been his own fist. Less!
I gave up fighting him only so I could survive. ”
On a gulp of air, Frey clamped his mouth shut.
He’d gone too far, said too much. Except for the bit about the bodies and his beaten-down acquiescence, Frey could have been recounting Rone’s treatment of him.
No matter that it was true, he didn’t expect Rone liked the reminder that he often treated Frey with the same disregard.
The alien said nothing, however, in response to Frey’s brief rant. Not right away.