„Let me have a look at you“, says Restimil in his soft almost beguiling voice and kneels in front of Slicer — his eyes staring blankly into nothing.

Slicer still on the ground freezes as the cold hands of the Steward of Deep Space touch his face. Restimil’s fingers are soft and gently as he runs them along Slicers jawline, the cheeks, brow, and temples. Then without pressure he trails them across his nose and lips as well as his scars. Lastly the Stewards draws his fingers gently over Slicers eyes, which he shuts instinctively. Then Restimil moves his hands to Slicers long ears and draws them up before moving to his horns.

During this strange methodical examination Slicer can’t move. All he can do is look at the Steward’s serine strangely beautiful face and listen to his soft-spoken almost hypnotic words.

„I am blind since birth you see“, he tells Slicer in a voice so low it is almost a whisper. „One of a myriad of side effects considering albinism in our species. Yet, I remember most clear everything from the day I hatched until I left the gentle waters of our home planet. During my time in the waters of Cetus my blindness was not a problem. I even found my way better than my hatch mates but the moment I stepped on land I had been lost. That was until she found me. She offered me a chance. A chance to survive. And I took it. In exchange for her giving me a part of her sight, I offered her my body as a vessel.“

„I won’t become the slave of a God of the Void“, Slicer says — his voice this time almost completely free of his usual anger and rancour.

Restimil’s laughter rings like a silver bell in Slicers ears. There is something ethereal about this Menkar. Something that soothes Slicer as much as it makes him detest Restimil.

„Slaves…“, the Steward of Deep Space chuckles a few moments later while holding Slicers head gently in his hands. „We are no slaves, Aranian. We can still do as we please as long as we fulfil what she requires of us. It’s an honest exchange. Nothing more than a service. And once this service has concluded, she will leave our bodies and let us keep the abilities she has bestowed upon us.“

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Too slow for Slicers taste, Restimil moves away from him and stands back up. The Steward’s movements are dominated by elegance and weightlessness. It is almost as if he floats through the air untouched by gravity or pressure.

„It is up to you, Aranian“, he continues to speak as he straightens his all black uniform adorned with pure silver treat. „I am not going to force you to decide — yet. Once we have arrived on dear Cetus, we talk again about the contract. Until then… Relten, be so kind and show our guest the way to his room and tell Felrani to disable his Jäger. We don’t want him to get lost in interstellar space.“

Before he can protest, Slicers is yanked to his feet. Without giving him even the faintest chance to resist, Relten pushes him out of the room and along a dimly lit corridor.

„Leave me be!“, he snaps at Relten und tries to turn around to at least bite him.

Unimpressed, the muscular Menkar steps aside and slams his fist into Slicers stomach. Retching Slicer topples over from the pain. Before he can recover, another blow hits him. This time a solid kick in the stomach.

Gasping for air, Slicer topples over and curls up into a ball. But despite the pain and lightheadedness, Slicer notes Relten’s serious expression. Confused since it lacks any kind of malice, he spits some light grey blood on the floor and takes a deep flattering breath.

„Don’t antagonise me“, says Relten in his deep rumbling voice. „You’re no member of the family. Until you are, I’m going to do as I please with you for Lap.“

„Lappor…“. Slicer spits out as if the name is poisonous.

Before he can react, Relten picks him up and carries him the rest of the way. All this as if Slicer weights nothing at all. After a few more twists and turns they arrive at a certain door, which opens with a hiss. Relten doesn‘t enter and throws Slicer into the room as if he is just disposed of a minor annoyance. Still somewhat incapacitated by the punch and kick from this giant of a Menkar, Slicer remains on the ground and watches with contempt how Relten vanishes behind the closing door.

Now in total darkness, Slicer sits up slow. Without any light his eyes can pick up he is just as blind as any other being without a tapetum. But as he knows where the door is he crawls to it and presses his hands against the cold metal.

It doesn‘t open.

Growling Slicer sits back down and spits again some blood on the ground. I need to let my body heal, and then I’ll take them out, he thinks and grins. But the smile is short-lived as a low voice whispers his Hatchname.

Suddenly, the darkness fills with a myriad of red eyes.

Against his usual demeanour, Slicer screams.