Chapter 15

Slake helps the cook to her feet as she hears the two troopers clomp down the hallway. Gormaanda is bulkier and heavier than she expected. Feels like she could bench press a landspeeder.

"Are you all right?"

"Ohh, not quite. But I'll be functional enough to meet Virta's request for dinner soon enough. Check on Rohrchun for me, please." Slake figures that "Rohrchun" is the Wookiee. He's huge, like all Wookiees, but he's completely emaciated under his brown-gray coat, evidently living on the same amount of daily calories afforded to all indentures, regardless of species or dietary needs.

The Wookiee is breathing. She touches his arm, and the beast turns quickly on her and issues a pitched, aggressive shriek into her face, baring his teeth. Slake falls backward and lands on her rump.

"Whoa! I'm not going to hurt you, okay!? Relax!"

Rohrchun still looks primed to attack, when Gormaanda puts her hand on his shoulder. She whispers a comfort in a language that Slake does not know. The Wookiee grumbles, then relaxes. He gets to his feet.

Gormaanda turns to Slake. "Rohrchun hasn't been shocked as much as I have, I'm afraid. He still has his spirit."

Slake doesn't quite know what to say to that. She's never interacted with indentures before. She knows they're treated poorly, but she also knows that all indentures are criminals. Aliens and humans who have broken Imperial law. They're likely getting what they deserve.

"Where are you stationed?" Slake asks.

"The mess, of course."

"All three of you?"

"Yes."

"Let's get moving. I don't know exactly where the mess is, so you'll have to lead the way."

"First few days on the ship, then. You must have come in on Master Exel's frigate."

Slake will neither confirm or deny. She won't share information with a prisoner.

"Oh, look at me. Being a nosy little nerfherder. My apologies, ma'am."

"Captain is fine. Captain Slake."

"Certainly, Captain."

The Kubaz looks from Virta's open door to Slake furtively. Slake gestures at him to fall in. "It's fine. You can come with me."

He leans in and squints at her. He can barely see anything. He might even think Virta is still there. Slake steps forward slowly and carefully—she won't make the same mistake she made with Rohrchun—and she gently takes the creature's claw. "Hey. It's okay. I won't hurt you."

The Kubaz flinches. Someone's obviously used this line on him before. And then they hurt him.

"I mean it. It's okay."

"Captain, may I?" asks Gormaanda.

Slake steps away from the Kubaz and Gormaanda reaches into her apron with her lower right hand. She produces a small porous stone and holds it in front of the Kubaz's snout. The scent seems to soothe the Kubaz, and Gormaanda whispers something to the poor creature, like she did the Wookiee, placing one of her hands on the back of his bald, wrinkled head. She smiles warmly, despite the pain she just endured, and she helps him stand up.

"This is Tegri Kai," says Gormaanda. "He's our size, but he's not very old. Kubaz reach physical maturity sooner than other species. Emotionally, intellectually, he's the equivalent of an eight- or nine-year-old human.

"Does the staff of this ship know that?" Slake is stunned that the Empire would indenture a child. Surely someone in the incarceration and labor departments would check species' maturation ages before committing them to a work effort.

Gormaanda offers a pained smile. "I don't believe anyone has ever cared to ask."

Slake, shaken by the treatment of these indentures, has Gormaanda lead the group back to the mess kitchen. Rohrchun and Tegri Kai follow behind the two of them. An uncomfortable silence hovers over them as they walk.

Gormaanda turns to Slake, gestures at her flight suit. "So you're a pilot. Interesting that you also hold the title of Baroness."

"It's a ceremonial title only. Captain is my rank and that's what matters."

"So I gathered from your conversation with Vice Admiral Virta."

"How does one get to be called 'Baroness,' if I may ask?"

"It's based on merit. It's been granted to only three pilots in the history of the Navy."

"Oh, so you must be a very good TIE Fighter pilot, then."

Slake is unsure why she's allowing herself to share so much. Maybe it's because the woman was just tortured. A little conversation may help her get some distance from Virta's abuse. "TIE Interceptor."

"Are those the ones with the bent wings? I have no idea how you see in those things."

"Visibility to port and starboard is limited, yes. But the Interceptor has full visibility on the vertical axis. It gives us advantage against Rebel pilots whose fighters all have top-mounted canopies. We can fly underneath them."

"Do you anticipate a Rebel threat all the way out here?"

Slake gives this woman a hard look. She doesn't like the hope in her tone. Nor does she like what an Alliance rescue attempt would mean for Obsidian squadron.

Gormaanda laughs self-effacingly. "Of course, that is not my place to know is it? But I do have one more question. Has Nixus spoken to you yet?"

A bead of sweat runs down Slake's back.

"Ahh, I see that it has," says the four-armed chef. "You know, I've been here longer than most, and what I can tell you from my experience is that this is extraordinarily strange, extraordinarily evil space. Whatever is out there, that black mass? I don't think it knew that there was more in the universe. Now that we've paid it a visit, I fear we have whetted its appetite."

Slake recoils from the idea. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a black hole, nothing more. Just a collapsing star."

"Perhaps, Captain. I do hope you're right."

Not even twenty minutes ago, Slake found herself in infinite hallways, drawing a blaster on phantoms from twelve years ago. She put holes in the turbolift. It was all just a lack of sleep. Maybe lower oxygen levels on those underdecks. Still, she asks. "Has the black hole… spoken to you?"

"It has. In its way. It showed me visions, horrors that I long since escaped. I know it sounds absurd, but it felt like it was feeding on my spirit. It gets inside you through revulsion, fear. Rohrchun, Tegri Kai have had similar experiences. All the slaves have."

"Indentures," Slake corrects her, eager to silence the woman.

"Oh, honey." Gormaanda stops in middle of the corridor, forcing Amara to stop as well. The chef puts two of her hands on Slake's shoulders. Slake knows she should recoil and reprimand this indenture for her impertinence, but the gesture is maternal and kind. It's been so long since anyone touched her with warmth and empathy. Slake can't break away.

Gormaanda looks deep into Slake's eyes. "Why sprinkle sugar on shit? You, of all people, should know what the Empire is."

Slake looks to the Wookiee and the Kubaz. She sees burned and scarred flesh under their indenture collars.

"We need to keep moving." Slake's words sound like a question to the chef. She's lost all control here.

"Very well, darling." Gormaanda squeezes Amara's shoulder. They walk the rest of the way to the mess in silence.