Halcyon was a sack of potatoes in my arms, a lumpy, uneven weight that was awkward to carry, but not difficult. The strength that showed under my skin was no illusion. It was a sort of surreal walk down the hall to the medbay, as I carried the girl I had wounded in my arms while dreamily considering the ramifications of my adulthood... and what it meant for Halcyon. I may have left my home early, but her customs were still ingrained into me. Each Manlian, including the Keen, was considered property of the Manlian that had broken her. This meant that when I was home, there were several hundred women that could legally rape me in the streets if they so pleased. The ownership was also considered absolute, and thus if two of my Mistresses crossed paths and disputed over me, any and all conflict rising between them over me would be held up in court as appropriate.<br/><br/>I wondered what Halcyon would think of this.<br/><br/>I lay her down gently on the medbay table nearest to the door and spread her legs gently. She wasn't resisting, and was simply rolling around a little. I fished through the medicine closet, finding the tube of gel and spreading it around on my index and middle fingers of my left hand, using the palm of my right, in a motion that might have made the men of the ship blush. I slid those lubed fingers into her still-loose anus, immediately feeling the gel leaving my fingers and seeking the wounded places, for these were liquid-form nanomachines, made expressly for internal injuries. Still, I moved my fingers slowly, helping it along, and massaging her tender insides, relaxing them, to ease the healing.<br/><br/>"There, there," I said, as she squeaked quietly.