Chapter Seven: Drake

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Melia tried to ignore the Zabrak. After all, he was Fives' pet, not hers. Both men, though, were scared and hungry. Fives ate like a horse, but he could eat grains. The Zabrak ate a lot, too, but his body couldn't manage grains like a human could. Drake needed meat and vegetables. Not grains. Cheese was okay in little portions. But mostly meat. Add in the fact that male Zabraks could get pregnant and you had a problem. That poor boy was exhausted, too. He didn't look like most tank bred Zabraks, he had what looked like battle scars on his flanks, but he obviously knew how to pleasure someone.

She needed to give him a medical checkup. Drake was currently in the galley, working his way through some of the food she'd bought a week ago. It wasn't bad yet, but it was probably getting stale. Drake might have been so hungry that he didn't care about the grains.

"I need you to go to the medical bay." Melia casually said. She watched him with hooded eyes as he munched a bowl of grapes.

Drake flinched and dropped his food. "I-I-I'm sorry! I should have asked!"

"No, it's okay," Melia replied. She waved him off. "Go on. You can keep eating. It's okay for you to be hungry." She sat down on the bar stool and watched him. "I just wanted to get you checked out. A medical scan. See if you had any boogies that could kill you later down the road."

"I-I-I'm fine." Drake froze. "I'm fine, Captain. Honestly."

Melia gave him a long look. "I just want you to be healthy. No surprises like you giving birth in the back of my ship to a dead baby and then dying from blood loss."

"Please..." Drake took a shaky breath. "Please, I'm fine." He looked at the floor and his hands fluttered in front of his belly.

"Medical bay." Melia took his shoulder amd pulled the Zabrak with her. Drake trembled against her touch. Too late, Melia remembered what had been done to him before. The Nightsisters would have used him in breeding. He was an alien, so he was exotic to a slave dealer. And some sickos liked saying that they had bedded a proud Zabrak Warrior. He was broken. Fives was broken.

So why did she think that she could take on both of those wrecks?

Because I have a conscious.

Drake sat on the bed, his golden eyes cast down at the floor. Melia took a hand held scanner and ran it over his body. Drake huddled against the crisp sheets, his gaze unreadable. Melia nodded as she looked at the results.

"I don't have to tell you, do I?" Melia softly said. Drake nodded, a tear in his eye. "I'm sorry, buddy. I really am."

"Not your fault." His voice was rough with tears. "I'm surprised it took you that long, to tell you the truth."

"I could probably get a hold of--"

"I'd die." Drake looked at her gravely. "The way...the way my body works, I'd bleed to death. And I wouldn't kill it anyways." Drake rubbed his belly. It was still flat, but it wouldn't be that way for very long. Drake would have died if she had left him there. Not all people would have given Drake a second chance.

"Okay." Melia budged up and let the Zabrak cuddle up to her. She stroked his back and horns. Zabraks were said to like that. She could take care of him, just a little, and encourage him to heal. Drake was far to small and far to shy for him to be healthy. Melia felt him snuggle beside her. Fives probably needed this, but he was too stubborn to ask.

Drake looked at her with wide amber eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Because someone has to," Melia softly said. "Don't you remember the song, Murphy Bless the Outcasts?"

He nodded. "Thank you."

It felt very nice to hold him. Drake was several degrees warmer than a human and it made him nice and cozy to hold. Drake didn't seem to mind it. That was good. Melia would have stopped if he didn't. Drake looked at her with warm, sleepy eyes before drifting off to sleep.

Melia stayed with him for a little while longer. Drake didn't cry out when she left, but Melia did wrap him in a blanket and pillow his head with a throw pillow. Drake deserved as much.

"Good night, my blessed outcast," Melia softly said. She brushed a kiss against his forehead and went to go deal with Fives. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but Drake was all soft and cuddly. Fives, she knew, was as hard and sharp as steel.

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