She awoke in the darkness, trying to let her eyes adjust. A tiny clock with red numbers alerted her to the fact that it was shortly before 5 a.m. in general universal time. Not that it particularly mattered – there were no exact days or nights here, as it was not a planet. She had a feeling it would be disorienting at first, but counted on adjusting to it eventually. She crawled slowly over to where she knew the door to be, then pressed the button to open it. The bluish light that constantly illuminated the museum was dimmed for the evening; she stood up and rubbed her eyes with a grimace, making her way to the washroom and drawing a bath. She relaxed in the small tub, grateful that her master had plumbing installed; not all outposts such as this had good amenities, but she supposed that he would have insisted. Judging by his home, occupation, clothes and demeanor, he must have been accustomed to living a better life than most in the galaxy. She smiled to herself, contemplating her luck. From what she had heard, most slaves never received such lavishness. Where one above her station might see only a small room with an old mattress and dusty sheets, she saw where she would not have to sleep on a hard floor with a crowd of other slaves, blanket-less, huddling together like beasts for warmth. One might see a small washroom with a tiny tub, but she saw that at least she had a spot to bathe and relieve herself in private. There was even soap, shampoo, and towels with which to dry herself. Hanni grinned broadly and wrapped her arms about herself in the soapy water. One might look back to their past and miss their old home, where such luxuries weren't luxuries at all but a basic standard of living... One might... but not me, she thought, the smile fading from her face slightly. Those days are gone. I am lucky. I am lucky, she told herself. Pretty soon she truly believed it.
After a few minutes, satisfied that she had cleansed her old life from her body, she dried herself with the provided towel, but paused when she examined her dress.
These are my only clothes, she thought, wondering if she would be forced to wear it every day. She dressed with trepidation, letting her black hair fall around her shoulders in her natural lazy curls and wondering if she should put on makeup. She found none however, shrugged, and left the room to explore a little. Soon enough she found the kitchen and remembered with no shock that she hadn't been fed the night before – Tivan had not given her permission. Her stomach rumbled angrily at the thought of food, but she decided against it – there was no way she was going to risk displeasing her new master. Deciding to try to get on his good side, Hanni walked to the main chamber and began sweeping broken bits of glass and rubble into a nearby door-covered chute set into the floor that she had been told led to an incinerator far below. The hole seemed wide enough to fit some of the larger debris into it, so she began lugging what she could over to the disposal, but she carelessly picked up a metal bit of frame with glass still embedded in it; it sliced her palm open and she cried out in pain, dropping the twisted beam.
"You should be more careful," her master said softly behind her.
She turned to him, holding back tears, trying to nod but grimacing instead. He clucked his tongue and motioned for her to follow him. He led her to a small, locked closet that was full of hundreds of various bottles, boxes, and tubes, which themselves contained hundreds more different powders, potions, pills and herbs. Most were dusty and served only as a part of his collection, though the bottle of yellow liquid he pulled from within had fingerprints all over it and had only a small amount of tonic left. He unstopped the vial and held his hand out for hers. She presented her gushing palm to him and he poured the foul-smelling, viscous yellow liquid over her wound. Hanni hissed and yanked her hand back as it burned, her master tossing a small white roll of gauze in her direction haphazardly. She wrapped her wound silently, embarrassed, but the cut was healing at an incredible rate already. Catching a glimpse of the bandage still wrapped around his head, she wondered why he didn't use the same medicine on himself. He caught her look and assumed what she was thinking, indulging her curiosity.
"It only goes so far," he said, pointing to his head. "I've used enough for the wound to close, but it will be a small amount of time before it truly heals."
"M-may I..." she started, unsure of saying anything. He nodded for her to continue, a bored expression on his face as he put the vial of yellow stuff and the gauze back into their proper places. "May I ask what happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"There was an... incident... with my last servant. Very large explosion. Incidentally, if you find any... matter... do not be alarmed. Just dispose of it."
Hanni wasn't sure if he was just joking or trying to frighten her at first, but one look at his face told her all she needed to know. So that's why he needed a new slave. She shuddered slightly, but tried to hide it as pain from her hand as she flexed it beneath the bandage. Her stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble again, and she noticed Tivan smirked a little.
"You're allowed to eat," he muttered condescendingly.
Hanni felt a little ashamed again, but took off towards the kitchen to get something for herself while her hand mended. I wonder if I should cook for him...? She had been a somewhat good cook back home before she was abducted and sold into slave labor – maybe it would be a nice gesture, as thanks for repairing her hand. She was full of doubt, however, over how he might react to her doing something without his permission, even if her intentions were good. She bit her lip and walked back out to the main room, suddenly noticing him bent over a small object on the floor. Unsure, Hanni watched him in silence for a moment. He picked up the item – even from this far she could tell it was a photo frame – dusted it off, and placed it on a heavily damaged desk to the side. He turned around and Hanni was utterly surprised to see sadness on his face – surely his collection couldn't mean that much to him – but then she supposed that it must, and did her best to approach him as though she had not been watching.
"Master," she asked slowly, "Would you care for breakfast?"
He looked up at her solemnly.
"I was not aware you could cook," he said passively. You didn't allow me to tell you I did, she thought.
"I was not... bad at it..." she said haltingly. She was hoping for a better reaction.
After a moment's hesitation, he waved his hand dismissively.
"Fine, but do not take too long. Also, make me tea. Strong tea. With honey."
She nodded and swept back to the kitchen, trying to find her way around, getting nervous about taking so long. Most everything was dark metal, every wall lined with some form of cabinet or cupboard, and a set of bar counters dominated the center of the room, tall chairs set next to them for eating meals. They looked dusty and unused. Soon enough she found tea and honey and started that first, then a bag of grains she made into hot porridge. At least it's quick, she thought. She added some of the honey to the mix, then found somewhat overripe berries that she tossed in, as well as a few sweet and mild spices. Not bad for not cooking for two years, she thought smugly. The smell attracted Tivan to the kitchen, and he sat down on one of the chairs at the bar counter, drumming his fingers expectantly with one hand and holding a book open in the other. Hanni sat the tea down in front of him, but he barely registered.
Must be a good book, she thought, but knew better – slaves were for working, not conversing with. She served the hot grains to her master first, then herself, but hesitated.
He did not even look up when he said, "Sit where you like."
She took the chair on the far side from him, not wanting to get too close or interrupt his reading. She waited for a moment, trying to respectfully allow him to eat first, but he merely kept reading. She bit her lip slightly in hunger, but something suddenly occurred to her – he thinks I might poison him. She was irritated at first, but realized he was just being cautious. After all, she thought, I'm still new and 'unpredictable.' I haven't had a tracker installed yet and now would be the most likely time I'd try to escape... Hanni took a bite of her porridge and sure enough, Tivan dug into his directly after. He took small, delicate bites, never looking up from his book or giving any kind of sign the meal was enjoyable.
Well, she thought, At least he's eating it.
Hanni ate her breakfast in silence, then waited for her master to finish his. It was only half-eaten when he waved the rest away. She felt somewhat slighted, but had the feeling that if her cooking was that terrible, he would have said so. She cleaned the dishes, but by the time she was done, Tivan was gone. Hanni merely returned to the main chamber and resumed her earlier work, this time being more cautious about what she touched.