“I can't believe how strong it is.” Syzah sang as they rode in the private elevator back to orbit.

"It is strong." His mother agreed. "Which is exactly what we wanted."

“It broke the synthetic cuffs, didn't you see? Those didn't have time to stretch and absorb the blow!” Syzah looked to her mother with a grin in his song. “How did you know this creature would be so amazing? It seemed so quiet in the display!” The young alien was just beginning to reach the prime of his song, and the voice fluttered in octaves as he spoke.

“Because she is the best beast tamer this side of the rings you off-tune dolt. Of course she knew.” The voice of his elder sister resonated in reply. “I doubt it even is that strong though. I'm sure father were here he could have brought it to the ground without even using the collar!”

“Silence Sonat.” The voice rang out clear through the air in the rising elevator. Through the windows the sky was beginning to darken, and the clouds were fading as they rode out of the atmosphere. Yitale's eyes blinked as she stared out at the stars coming into view, and at her own reflection. She met her own gaze in confidence. “I simply choose the one which looked the most tamable. Considering the alternative choices, I believe I choose correctly. Even with this creature's apparent strength, it failed to kill even a single guard during its walk to service.”

“I suppose that is true. There's no species listing for it, though...” Syzah turned to stare at the unconscious beast laying on the gravity trolley. It's skin seemed to have a tanish tinge which mixed with an almost pink or red color in some places, and though hair covered it's head and some of it's face, the rest of it's body was touch only slightly by it. That was, for the exception of its legs, which were partly covered by some strange interwoven hair or fabric. “It's quite strange looking, too.” he muttered quietly.

“It will do for what we need, it just has to remain obedient and look dangerous.” Yitale muttered, her voice singing out in a low and dissonant tune. “If your father were here indeed...”

Tradition of trading ships was to have a guardian beast, but in this section of space it was rare that any rouge ships would attempt a boarding, so the role could be filled by harmless mascots instead of fiercer predators. To fill the role she had intentionally choose the most plain and docile of the creatures she'd seen, but now worry ate at her.

She hadn't wanted it to be that strong.

She hadn't wanted that at all.

The strange beast had broken the synthetic cuff material with ease, and withstood more Snare-rounds than any beast in recent memory. When she'd chosen it, she had been hoping for something less dangerous, and had taken the lack of bidding from the other parties present to be a sign of that.

Dangerous ship beasts were prized, but difficult. Pursuing that sort thing was exactly what had cost her spawn their father.

Then, there was also the matter of how it landed upon it's release from it's cage... with such ease. She had to admit that for the amount of credits she'd bid for it, she was stuck with it, but she'd almost have rather taken her chances with the Spitter they'd had on auction instead. At least she knew for certain how dangerous one of those was.

With a hum of irritation she took thoughts off of the beast and placed them upon her ship, which was quickly approaching their view from the elevator. Yitale had paid extra to be certain their vessel could take off on her signal and prepare for deep travel. It had probably been worth it just for the sake of bravado.

She needed to seem as though she were still strong. As though she were in complete control.

Appearances were everything when it came to the Guild. The had a long trade route to go, and she knew that if they failed to bring in a profit this was the last journey she could truly afford before she'd have to make some difficult decisions. They had to make this count.

...

Unbeknownst to the human, his entry into the trade ship had been anything but simple. His body had been sent through the decontamination bay after it had been decided that his odor of sweat and pain was unseemly.

There, protocol had dictated the series of low-quality nanobot cleansers issued to remove potential pathogens from his system, and an intense burst of ultraviolet radiation had been applied to his skin. It had not been realized that the human immune system tagged those nanobots as a threat, and had literally eaten the things before they managed to remove everything. Luckily they had targeted the most dangerous of the micro-organisms first, or the safety of the crew may have been in serious jeopardy. Human immunity did not extend to others, and any number of diseases the man contained would likely have caused a ship-wide epidemic... or worse.

When he woke, for the third time in recent memory, he woke disoriented. He also awoke with hunger, which was new, and far from pleasant. As the man rose, he felt the collar on his neck like you feel a limb that has fallen asleep. With tiny tingles and nothing more. He yawned and noticed he was naked, naked as the day he was born. To his right he had found that they had left him his shorts. They were far more faded and worn than he had remembered: evidence of the multistage cleaning he had unconsciously endured.

The man knew none of this, though. In fact he was only aware that his body felt light, and clean. Beyond the background of a throbbing pain in the back of his skull, and the constant pressure of the strange collar sealed to his neck, he honestly didn't didn't feel all that bad considering the recent events. In fact, physically he recognized that he almost felt superhuman. Worries and stress were for someone with memories and control over their lives, and considering the man had accepted he had neither- life could only go up from here.

Beneath him was a thick blanket of some synthetic fabric, which seemed the consistency and size of a large yoga mat. Observing his surroundings, the human realized quickly he was on board some type of vessel. The room around him was large, and looked much like a hanger bay, with large heavy gates on one end that formed an entire wall. Several boxes of storage seemed to rest along it, and above his head was a long narrow crossing of metal railings and bridge work. The corner of the room was an elevator platform which seemed to have some type of piston beneath it. It was raised ten feet above his head, just like the bridgework and railings.

The air was thick and dense, but it didn't feel heavy or painful, and he took slow shallow pulls of it into his lungs. That little air taken in seemed to make him hyper observent, and his pupils dilated. He had never felt so alive, and his focus flowed from the scenery to his body. His muscles flexed as he curled his arm and repeatedly clenched his hand. The tiny crackling of his knuckles seemed to echo back at him in the strange atmosphere.

Suddenly hunger struck him again, and he realized he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.

Then, he quietly chuckled at that statement- because it was technically true.

On the opposing side with the elevator were several silver buckets. Eight of them, to be precise. Each loaded to the brim with varying types of... organic material. And one with water. Inspecting them, the man found that the farthest two smelled horrible, and looked even worse. The middle four had no odor, but on closer inspection looked as dangerous as the previous were disgusting: with bright colors which seemed to scream poison.

He avoided those, as well.

Luck was with him for the final bucket though. It contained which was essentially tasteless brown powder, which resembled sugar or salt in size and texture. As he sampled it cautiously he felt his hunger grow. Still he resisted and waited. Minutes passed and he felt neither sick nor harmed. He could remember that waiting on such things was important, but he couldn't remember how he had learned it.

After an hour of waiting, focused on shallow breathes, he succumbed to hunger in sudden desperation and fed himself by the mouthful, washing it down with careful swishes from the bucket of water before he rose again to explore the newest prison he had found himself in. The far floor of the opposing corner was a drainage gate, where the man shamelessly relieved himself. At least it wasn't in a glass bubble on show for all to see, it could have been worse.

Beginning to pace the perimeter of the room, the man tried to read the scrip which covered the boxes and crates. The language never seemed to break, as it was just a long stream of patterned swirls which always spun into a spiral before breaking off at the center. Unable to make any sense of the strange text, he quickly grew bored, and eventually lay back on the synthetic mat. Hands behind his head crested his neck to a comfortable angle as shallow breathing slowed. Content sleep overtook him.

...

Syzah had come to see the new ship-beast as soon as he had finished his duties. Though the spawn of a shipmaster, he was not spoiled; in fact by many standards he was quite overworked. His body felt the drag of prolonged mental attention after a shift on the bridge. He had been observing the system function for the first two rotations after leaving orbit. It usually fell to his sister to do the second half, but she had been training to use the other modules, and was too busy to relieve him. With Yitale observing them, he could not bring himself to ask for a substitute, she expected much more of them now that his father was gone. Their father and their wealth.

He stared at the beast below as it lay on it's mat, they had decontaminated that as well during it's arrival, purchased used from another trader which had bought a smaller beast than their previous. The price had been low, and Syzah had come to the conclusion that the trader's beast must have died on the mat in some disgusting fashion. It mattered little to the creature below though, which seemed to breath so infrequently it almost looked dead anyways.

According to the initial ship scans it was strong, but how strong hadn't been determined as their machines were far from the top of the line and couldn't calculate such details. It had a body similar to his own species, but much denser. Calcium content of it's bones was higher than anything Syzah had ever seen, and it had a tremendous muscular system laid atop that. Without a doubt, he knew the beast had certainly come from a higher gravity world of some kind, as it was simply impossible to achieve such density and strength without it. He'd already made notes to turn the cargo-hold on a higher artificial limit in the future, so the beast didn't deteriorate over time as some were known to do.

It's breathing quickened suddenly from below, and it's strange lips moved. Barks of air erupted from it and it sat up in a suddent motion. Powerful five digit hands grasping at the hair which covered the ship beast's skull, as it rocked back in forth for a short while.

Syzah wasn't sure what to make of the behavior, but he was suddenly very glad the creature was far down below, with no way to get to him.

While it might not look as fierce as some ship-beasts, it was intimidating in it's own way.

As his tail coiled through the air, it's light fur caught a shift in air of the walkway which announced his sister's arrival. His greeting sent out in the traditional tones reserved for a fellow spawn, held only with slight sarcasm laced into the melody. They had been more prone to arguments recently, and Syzah was beginning to give back when the opportunities presented him. Especially when his mother wasn't there to notice.

It was only fair.

As Sonat approached, her blue eyes met his as she sang back her greeting, which contained more than a lick of pompous grace.

Sonat was beautiful, in a way only some could ever hope to be. She had inherited only the best traits from her elders, and learned skills in speeds that made Syzah frustrated at just a mention. He wasn't jealous, but he did despise the constant comparisons. When set beside to her, he was a simpleton who had to run just to keep up with her shadow, but run he would.

Syzah was nothing if not determined.

“I'm glad to see you've come to keep more intelligent company” she laughed as she passed him to lean against the rail on his left. “I'm sure the beast can teach you many useful skills you wouldn't learn elsewhere.” Her mocking voice lifted with an amused underscore as her tail flicked his nose. “You certainly need the help if you plan on assisting with the duties in the future. You forgot to cycle the fusion cells, mother almost threw a fit getting them vented.”

Syzah groaned at the image, he had known he had forgotten to do something before he left the bridge, but hadn't been able to figure out what. “Is the shipmaster angry with me?” His song held to the formal tones despite the irritation of her presence.

“No.” Her voice softened slightly. “I think father used to forget the same. That was what upset her more than anything.” Her song was quiet now. “You know this might be our last journey on the ship, Syzah. If the trades are bad we're going to be grounded. Perhaps for some time.”

He knew. He knew all too well. To lose a shipmaster was a tragic thing, but it was also economically crippling. Yitale had risen up despite her grieving to take over his father's duties, but trade was a business managed by trust, and his father's contacts did not know her as they'd known him. During the cycle after his death, many of the crew had left to support stronger ships, with better offers. The one's who remained were loyal, at least, but less crew meant slower prep times, which meant less jobs. Which had meant cutting corners and far less maintenance than normal. If the ship fell any further into disrepair, they would no longer be safe to fly, and that meant returning to life on the surface. Or, perhaps, selling their assets and settling on a station

Syzah had never known life on the surface. He didn't like the thought of it one bit either. This ship was his home.

Still, Yitale had been clever about their situation. They had been taking the longest routes with the most expensive cargo so as not to stress the hull with frequent deceleration at system check points, which littered the shorter paths of trade. His mother had also been taking tremendous risk in doing so, but so far it had kept them from falling further towards the seemingly inevitable. Their descent to ruin had almost taken them, and through stubbornness alone Yitale had kept them afloat, skimping and saving them back into some semblance of normal routine, if just barely.

Which was why the purchase of the beast below had been uncharacteristic of her. Especially when considering the way the last one had gone, cycles ago. Certainly it was tradition, and of course it was considered good luck to fly on a trade vessel with a ship-beast, but they were an expense, and Syzah knew they could afford very few of those.

In the early days of trade, these loyal beasts had offered true protection from raiders and pirates, and almost every trade ship had them. Now in more peaceful times, only the true traders still had a beast of their own. Those along the fringes, or those who intentionally took the more dangerous contracts. It was a statement of both authenticity and necessity, and shipmaster's were expected to keep theirs close at hand when negotiating.

Staring at the beast below, Syzah could understand her gamble. Perhaps with a ship-beast at her side she could appear in better standing, and obtain better offers in the future. Encourage more support...

Or, perhaps she had invested in something which she could take with them in the chance that they were grounded at the next port. If something went wrong...

Anyone who travelled enough knew there was more than a little truth to the rumors. That a stranded shipmaster and her spawn, without a crew, would not last long on the surface of an unfamiliar planet, especially if their host species were carnivorous...

His tail curled anxiously and he turned to Sonat to find his sister with the same posture. She too had come to unpleasant conclusions orbiting the presence of the creature below them, and what it represented for their future.

...

Time passed strangely on the ship, and he assumed much of that could be attributed to crushing boredom. Easily a week or more had passed, and he was still in the cargo hold of the ship, with his only entertainment pacing in circles, exercising, or sleeping on his strange- yet surprisingly comfortable mat.

He slept a lot, but was growing wary of it. Nightmares were the main reason. Those kept striking him with terrors he couldn't explain based off of the few fragmented memories he seemed to have. His subconscious just couldn't stop grasping at them, either. Waking up afraid with a headache was not pleasant.

Every so often, the singing aliens would lower a silver bucket of the food he had come to refer affectionately to as “dirt.” Then, every so often they would come to retrieve it with a hook. Something that was surprisingly opposite of the technological marvel the ship he was in seemed to be.

Truth be told, the aliens would pay him little attention at all besides occasionally stopping to stare when they thought he was sleeping. If he was awake, they almost seemed to flee from his line of sight the moment they noticed him.

He was beginning to recognize a certain few though. His repeating "visitors" as it were.

The two smaller beings that had been there during the event of his collaring often visited and spoke in hushed songs at the railing of the walkway. Their elder with the scaled cloak had not yet appeared though, which worried him slightly. That one had hurt him with the collar, and he was fairly certain she might do it again if prompted. That pain was terrible, and was absolutely something he would rather not experience.

The other, though, he had come to recognize was the highlight of his days, or nights. He was generalizing now, but of the repeating schedule of time the crew followed, she (or he assumed it was a she) was the highlight. During the quiet period of the ship activity, when the traffic over the bridgework dropped to zero, his visitor would seem to slink in. He wasn't sure exactly what to make of her, other than curious, but she offered him more than any other creature had. Conversation.

It was completely one sided of course; he couldn't speak a word, and he understood nothing she said, but it was comforting to hear her song-like speech. A peaceful melody that reminded him of music that he couldn't quite piece together. He knew he had liked it though, and for that simple reason he had come to like her, or it. He wasn't really sure if they had genders. He'd just taken to thinking they did for his own sake.

"It" dressed in a white fabric, unlike a majority of the crew, and had light green eyes which would glow in the dim lighting during the quiet period. Their solid hue had unnerved him at first, but now they were familiar, and consistent as the melodies that floated through the large room. Emotion was attached to every note, and he often felt as if he could seem them as he focused on the sounds, like colors or waves; the alien melody often lured him to a peaceful sleep where nothing else mattered.

Though he couldn't be certain, he sometimes thought his dreams were of home.