Page 27 of Volunteer 4711

It grates on me when she says, ‘I understand,’ in this way. I know what her other meaning is. She meets my eyes and repeats herself, and I do not know what more I want from her, but it is something that she is not giving me. We hold eye contact, but when she says nothing more, I turn my eyes away and leave without another word.

Once in the corridor, I take a deep breath. I remind myself that whatever is going on between us will work itself out with time. I must focus on my work. Today we are rendezvousing with the other fleet to begin talks. And this evening, I will host the commander of the other fleet here. Although tonight will only be a soft welcome, my officers and I are still preparing for what we expect to be offered and what we will prepare to give in this compromise.

* * *

I nod at Volunteer 4711 as she enters the officers’ lounge. She is wearing a more formal uniform in black, but it still bears her position and my name. Her long brown hair is pulled back, and she looks more feminine than usual. However, this is the formal uniform for servants, it is more fitted to her body, and I cannot change that just because I do not like how others see her in it.

I watch her until she disappears into another room with the other servants to work on preparations. Then I turn my attention to the officers of the other fleet that have entered the room. They have also brought some of their staff with them. Because, of course, you want to have your servants eating and drinking the food before you do when you are on possible enemies’ vessels. I always do the same.

I do not pay too much attention to the other fleet’s staff but focus on the officers and their commander in particular. We have not met in a very long time. I grasp his arm strongly and welcome him. Soon we are handed glasses of alcohol, and I make a toast to our being able to come together and hope that our futures will be united more than just in the history books as powerful males of the same profession.

After my toast, conversation ensues, and everyone seems to be polite, if not friendly. I have a good feeling about these meetings.

Then I hear what sounds like a hundred glasses breaking at once from the back, from where the servants are. And the peacefulness between the two crews is broken. Everyone goes quiet and reaches for their weapons. Thankfully, one of the head servants comes out immediately and apologizes loudly to the point he is almost shouting. He assures everyone that it was nothing more than glasses being dropped by accident. He invites anyone who needs evidence of this to come and see for themselves. A few of my officers and the officers from the other fleet go to investigate.

I am in conversation when my first officer comes back and asks for a quick word. I excuse myself, “There is another Water person in their crew. Volunteer 4711 dropped a tray full of glasses when she saw her. That was the cause.”

I nod and dismiss my first officer. I assume Volunteer 4711 was just surprised, as it has been over a year, possibly even two years since she has seen someone of her own species.

CHAPTER15

VOLUNTEER 4711

The other piratefleet is with us now, and their officers are on our ship at my Commander’s invitation. I’ve got a new uniform to wear that, instead of being loose, is very fitted. It’s still black, but for the first time since I have come to live with the Silvers, I’m wearing something that hugs my curves. And with my self-defense training, my body is in great shape. I was even late to my post because I took extra time to braid my long brown hair tonight, as for the first time in a long time, I liked what I saw in the mirror. All except for the tattoo on my left cheek that brands me a volunteer. Most days, I avoid my reflection because of it, but this uniform makes me feel better. It shows I am a valued member of this crew.

I enter the officers’ lounge, where cocktails are being served. I make eye contact with the Commander as I enter. I think he’s worried I will make a mistake. I’m the only alien here, and he mentioned before that he doesn’t know what the other fleet will think of having a Water person onboard. So, I will be extra vigilant with my duties and articulating the Silver language.

I’m given a tray full of glasses filled with alcohol to offer to the guests. It’s heavy, but I can manage. I turn to walk out and feel like I’m seeing a ghost. It looks like another human is walking in with similar clothes to mine but in red, the other fleet’s colors. She smiles at me. “I heard there was a human onboard.”

I’m shocked at the sound of English, and in combination with the sight of her, I drop the full tray of glasses. Everyone around me starts freaking out. I know why; those in the other room could’ve easily thought this was the start of an attack. I can’t help it, though. I look at the woman. She has long blonde hair that looks like it has been styled professionally, and she’s wearing jewelry and makeup.

“I’m sorry,” she says, bending down to help me pick up some of the broken glass with the other servants.

I say nothing but look up at her face, and our eyes meet. I touch her left cheek.

“Oh, I had that removed,” she tells me. “My commander said I was no longer a slave. You, I guess, are not so lucky.”

I can hear officers from both crews coming in to investigate what’s happened, and I feel guilty for dropping the tray. I can’t believe I did that. My mind is on overdrive at the woman’s words, though; ifshe’s no longer a slave by having that tattoo removed, then what am I?All I can think about are my Commander’s words telling me that he would never sell me. I can’t help it now; tears begin rolling down my face. I try to wipe them away, but I can’t.Am I a slave?

The other human woman hugs me awkwardly, surrounded by broken glass, spilled alcohol, and all the Silver servants trying desperately to clean up my mess quickly. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry,” she says. I notice she even has perfume on.Yes, clearly she is not a slave. I don’t even have moisturizer.

I pull back and get control of my emotions. I remind myself that I’m lucky to be here rather than on the farm and that it’s sad that I’ve not been as fortunate as she has, but I’m still lucky.Aren’t I?I wipe my face. “I’m sorry. I was so surprised to see you. I must get back to work.” It feels odd in my mouth to speak English, and I’m sure my face reflects my lack of confidence in my own language.

She tells me her name, says, “Let’s talk if we can find a minute,” and then moves on to help serve the officers.

I’m shocked that she uses her name, her given human name, and not her Volunteer number. I watch her across the kitchen. Apparently, she’s here to test her commander’s food before he eats it. I take my eyes off her when she turns back and feels me staring. I feel like such a fool. I go to the sink and wash my hands. I apologize to the head servant, who scolds me and tells me to return to my quarters. As I’m about to walk out, the human woman follows me into the corridor.

“Can I walk with you for a minute?”

“Yes,” I say. “But not too long. I don’t want to get into any more trouble.”

“I understand,” she says. “How long have you been here?”

I tell her about the farm and the Commander saving me.

“I’ve been here the same time, but I was first delivered to a brothel in the capital city. My commander was a client. He bought me and set me free. Now, I’m a servant on his ship.”

“It’s similar,” I say, feeling sorry for her. I was only made to work on a farm, but she must have had to endure far worse in a brothel in a big city.

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