Ok here we come, we finally meet the young ex-slave, but is the Elector the right place for him to be?

Planting the Seeds of Family Chapter 7

The next morning Omevic work up, his lines and tubes had been taken out while he slept leaving his scarred arms bare, there was a small pile of clothes by the end of the bed, and the Ravager who had called his name was looking at him.

"Are you ready to get dressed?"

All Omevic could do was nod at his first order, and moved from the bed quickly even though is legs wobbled from the last few days of lack of use. In the small bathroom, he washed quickly, as he always did. But did note that his body smelt clean which was new to him.

The older Ravager in his red coat has stepped from the room while he stripped bare and got dressed in the new clothes, they were second hand but clean, and slightly itchy on his skin. But everything was a little too big apart from the shoes which fit perfectly. Perhaps his new Master would be kind, Omevic wondered, as he stepped from the Med Bay, to see the Ravager leaning against the wall.

"Here, this will keep your head warm." The Ravager said, placing the cap on Omevic's bald head. "Having hair is going to be strange, I wonder if your hair's black like mine." The idea of even having hair, after a lifetime of having it shaved, was a strange one so all Omevic could do was stare with blank eyes while the Ravager cleared his throat.

"Ok, your rooms been set up, but we're going to go to the Mess Hall to get you something to eat" he said, as Omevic remembered his name was Yarovesky and it conjured up a memory of him years ago before he was taken and it sent a whisper of fear through his body.

Walking on the deck, the older Ravager was engaging him in conversation, which Omevic didn't believe. The moment Yarovesky had said "This is your home now and no one will hurt you" Omevic had been told that all his life, the phrase was rendered meaningless.

There was no one on the decks apart from then, but he could sense the movement of life around him, and it made Omevic feel worse since he didn't know anything about these people. In the Mess Hall which was clean and devoid of people so maybe his job was to clean it, a man was standing tall, he had one arm but busied himself in his kitchen.

Omevic knew this was his domain, and he would be beaten if he moved anything or stole food. Which always happened. But he wouldn't steal, his Master had given him new clothes, and that meant something to a slave like him.

"Omevic, this is Iztel, he's going to make you something to eat, and just talk to you." Yarovesky told the eight-year-old, who couldn't speak for a moment, but managed to get out a "Thank you, Master," something he didn't notice caused a reaction between the two Ravagers, "He'll be fine Yarovesky, I'll contact you if I have too." With that Yarovesky left the room, but not before Omevic felt him squeeze his skinny shoulders.

With the pair the only ones in the room, Iztel cleared his throat, "So I guess I better feed you, is soap ok. I know you might not have had it before, but it's really good for you". Omevic didn't know what to say so said nothing. He wasn't used to being asked what he wanted, he just lived off scraps in the hope they would be nice.

"Ok, take a seat, and I'll bring it over," the Ravager said, and a stab of fear rushed though Omevic.

"Master no," this caused Iztel even though he was barely sighted to turn to the now clearly terrified eight-year-old, and Omevic desperately tried to make him understand.

"I can't Master, slaves sit on floors, slaves can't…I can't…I just can't".

Iztel watched the child flinch waiting for the beating Omevic thought wild ensure and Iztel just felt a wave of revulsion at what the boy thought would happen, but he thought quickly.

"Ok, there is a cushion on the floor, sit on that, and I'll bring it over."

Omevic did as he said, pleased that Iztel hadn't beaten him yet, and the cushion was soft and unfamiliar, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. It was too soft, and he didn't want to insult the man who was cooking for him. Omevic was used to obeying only one person, but wondered if he was going to be a slave to everyone?

His new master passed him a steaming cup full of soup, and even though it was lukewarm for Ravager standards, it was too hot for the young boy, but he didn't complain if it burnt him. Omevic knew he would be beaten. Eventually, even he knew that. They were pretending to be nice, but he had too many memories of blows to the stomach, and combined with the soup felt like he would throw up, but managed to keep the food down.

At the same time. In the hanger bay, little Peter Jason Udonta was sitting with his daddy Yondu, and all of his favorite Ravagers, Proctom, Jamsean, Gunnsen and of course Yarovesky.

Yondu was surprised that Peter had chosen him over Kraglin, but he wasn't going to complain, these moments just sitting with the crew and talking were rare, and Peter just loved the extra attention as he was given more things to do.

This meant Peter getting dirtier, but meant more units. Even though he was guaranteed to need a bath, his second since the day before after an afternoon of making and filling jars with delicious sweet steaming jam, he was on a sugar high, sticky and extremely happy.

Though Yondu was happy to sit with his son, and just do the menial work, his mind kept turning back to the young child with Iztel. Who at the same time was struggling with the eight-year-old, it wasn't Omevic's fault, of course, it wasn't. But even though he had come to terms with Proctom's issues, he was beginning to realizing something about the young child.

Engaging him in conversation was impossible, everything that was said Omevic just responding with a "yes master" or "No master." His eyes would never leave the floor, he was tense and seemed to recoil slightly when Iztel spoke as if waiting for the first strike across his body. Every time someone came into the mess hall for food or even a coffee, Omevic withdraw more into himself trying to deal with these unfamiliar people, though none of them really engaged him in any conversation.

In the end, Iztel sent him to the back of the pantry to have a rest on the small cot where Peter and occasionally Proctom took naps, but instead, Iztel walked into see the child sleeping on the floor next to the bed.

Iztel just signed to himself and threw a blanket over the fragile looking child. Even after one day, he knew everything he ever needed to know, which he regaled to Kraglin when the First Mate came down to discreetly check on the MasterChef and the new arrival.

"Look Kraglin, I don't want to sound like an asshole, but I've got Peter and Proctom to worry about, and I can't take a third kid on…there's nothing him in."

Kraglin looked concerned for a moment, while Iztel explained, "Proctom came to me when he was twenty, he'd been a Ravager for five years, he at least knew the drill, but this kid. He needs more than what I can provide. The Elector is no place for him, you've gotta see that".

Iztel was as always, the voice of reason, and Kraglin understood that most of the Ravagers were not as young as Omevic who did deserve better than this. When the small boy got up, he saw the adults looking at him, and grew afraid, even if they said they wouldn't be cruel, he was always awaiting it. Omevic had spent his entire life on the edge, and there was no way of stopping it.

Secretly Iztel was hoping that Proctom would turn a corner, and become more settled and managed to work it into a routine where he would be alone with the small child over the next few days, just to get him to become more talkative and stop seeing himself as a slave. And Peter was pleased with the extra attention from Proctom and doing duty maintenance.

Omevic had been taken to his room, which was on the crew decks, by the Captain, who to the young Xandarian, he was so big and strong and looked like he could crush Omevic if he wanted too. Instead, he was taken to the small room, and by Ravager standards it was small, but to the eight-year-old, it was so big it overwhelmed it, it had a chest of drawers which contained his new clothes. His own small shower, and a bed.

"This is all yours, so you can decorate it as you want, the door is locked, and only you, Kraglin, Yarovesky have the codes. No one can come in unless you want them too". Yondu tried to keep it light and wished that Kraglin had done this, but his Mate had made it clear that if Omevic was going to stay and they had few options, then he had to feel like it was his home. All Omevic could do was whisper a pathetic "Thank you," and with that, he was alone in his own space.

Omevic looked at the bed and was fearful it was a trick, the moment he lay down on the sheets, Master would come in and beat him, in the end. He grabbed the sheets and pillows and huddled in a blanket on the floor, his eyes on the door expecting someone to come in, but they didn't.

Omevic promised himself that he would be the best, that no one would have any reason to mistreat him, it was a promise he said to himself every day, and he would work so hard.

However, it all came to a head, when the Mess hall was full of crew, and Omevic walked in, all he had been told to do was walk around the Elector, try to get a feel of his new home. To try to feel more settled, at least that's what his new master. Yondu told him, but he looked for places to hide instead.

Omevic was caught by the smell of food and even though he had been eating better food even if he knew it was basic his stomach growled in animation. He was hungry, and looking forward to what Master Iztel was making for him, then he turned the corner and stopped suddenly. Omevic's eyes widened at the older Ravager in his red coat, and a scar across his forehead, who turned towards him.

Both of them grew a moment of reconciliation, and for Proctom, his life flashed before his eyes. Struggling to survive on the slave ship, beatings over and over again. The suffering and pain engulfed him.

For Omevic, his past before, grew into life with people long dead and buried rushed to his mind. Being small and crying as he was being pulled away, along with the others. The same haunted look on his face, but his eyes were dead inside. Followed by more emotions, the pain, and starvation, wrapping himself in rags, wanting comfort but there was no one to give it to him.

The memories for the pair were so overwhelming that both of them hit the ground at the same time.

Dun dun dun.

My god, I am a bit of a sadist, aren't I?

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