Return to Part One
The whole time Spock showered and dressed, Ruth cowered in the bed pretending to sleep, hoping he'd go away and leave her without another word or touch. She just wanted to get away from him. She'd done as Sulu had ordered, she'd lived through the night. She listened, hardly breathing, as he moved about the rooms, waiting for the hiss of the door to tell her he'd left. When there was only silence, she dared a quick covert glance and found him standing over her, his eyes looking directly into hers. He laughed and reached down to grab her hair and haul her out of bed. "Today," he told her sarcastically, "you will report for work. I'm sure Lieutenant Moreau will find something for you to do."
Oh no, she thought, the more people we get exposed to, the quicker they're going to find out we're imposters! "I can't," she pouted, and petulantly collapsed to the deck. "You hurt me."
"Then I suggest you have Dr. McCoy attend to your injuries before you report to Moreau," he growled. Ruth didn't try to argue but meekly replied, "yes, sir," to his back as he headed out the door.
She waited to a count of one hundred, then scrambled off the deck and hurriedly pulled on a uniform, a blue halter and short skirt, dark hose and thigh-high black boots. She tied her hair back and moved resolutely out the door. She was stopped just outside by a security guard. She knew his counterpart as a geologist, Carl Allison. Not here, she reminded herself quickly. She tried to pull away from the hand on her arm. "Mister, I would suggest..."
Allison had looked quickly up and down the corridor, making quite sure it was empty before he smiled down at her suggestively. "Going somewhere, ma'am?" he asked. Both devotion and lustful eagerness were evident in his eyes.
Ruth flushed but quickly assessed the situation. Her counterpart had obviously been screwing Riley. Apparently Riley wasn't the only one. That bitch! she thought, with sudden, overwhelming indignation. How dare she treat with Spock that way! Then the memories of the past several hours crowded out any sympathy for the Vulcan. He isn't your Mr. Spock, she told herself firmly. Don't be affronted. Use it. She made her smile slow and seductive. "I have a few errands, Carl, but I might have some free time later."
Sulu woke exhausted rather than refreshed, and from the way his body was relaxing, it was the kind of exhaustion his counterpart relished. He was sated, spent. He'd been drained, was very much aware of the passivity of his own actions in that occurrence. Jilla had serviced him, quite unconsciously - and you'd better put that feeling out of your head before she wakes up or she'll get hysterical all over again. He had one comfort; he had calmed her, reassured her. When her training had allowed her to stop serving him, she'd slept peacefully, or relatively peacefully, in his arms. Stop thinking about training and serving! he ordered himself sternly.
Gently he moved Jilla away from him, and she woke, clinging with sudden, renewed fear. "Easy, hon," he murmured. "You're all right."
She smiled, and it helped. He kept the groan that was half grumpy pleasure, half real pain inside and got out of bed. He could feel Jilla's eyes on his back, and said, "All Indiian, remember?" He looked over his shoulder at her, deliberately grinning. "It's no worse than you did on Alcon, hon." She flushed, trembling, and he said again, "You're all right."
She was sitting up, pushing her hair back when the door-chime sounded and Jeremy Paget's voice said, with a trace of amused contempt, "Miss Valley to see you, sir."
"Send her in," he growled, and grimaced at Jilla's wince. I've got to make my voice harsh, he told her silently, and she nodded miserably.
Ruth stepped in, her face losing its arrogant mask as soon as the door closed. She stared at Sulu, then started flushing.
"Jilla's all Indiian," Sulu explained quickly. "No genetic alteration." Then he saw that wasn't what Ruth was flushing about. Some of the monitor screens were on. "Yes, I know," he went on. "We saw, some of it. I can monitor the whole ship from here, people's quarters, everything. I'm sorry, Ruth. I didn't realize you couldn't heal it, that she couldn't." He stopped, anguished, as Ruth trembled, then Jilla sobbed and both women were abruptly huddled in each other's arms. He left them to sort it out alone and took a quick shower, concentrating on the strategy that would get them through the day.
Do they have to work? I don't know. Find out. Can they get to the computers and Engineering? Not if they act like they have to. Can I get the tapes of ship's functions during the transfer to them? Again, I don't know. If Jilla doesn't have to work, yes. If she does, if Ruth does - Ruth is spoiled. Maybe she can stay 'home' and work. I can easily warn her of any interruptions - if Spock doesn't monitor his own quarters. Can I find out? Damn, if I could let Jilla study the Security board in my office and on the Bridge - No way, at least not on the Bridge. Do what you can. And find out if Ruth's got orders from her 'man'. I hate that! So do what you can to change it, Lieutenant.
He was careful drying off his back and arms, wistful memory reminding him of aphrodisiacs and an ornate bedroom and comments about attacking courgats on Alcon. He shook it off. This was far more dangerous, though he'd never have thought any situation could be then. When he re-entered the bedroom, Jilla was crying hysterically, Ruth holding her, looking anguished and helpless.
"What happened?" he asked, worriedly returning to the bed and Jilla's clutching embrace.
"I - " Ruth stammered, and her eyes went to Jilla's thigh, then to the brand at her throat. "Spock called her Selar's barbarian whore," she whispered, and Jilla moaned, shuddering in Sulu's arms. "He said she was trained to serve, she wears the mark of the Empire's best training house. I didn't mean to - but she asked about the - " Ruth swallowed. "Sulu... Jilla, I'm sorry, I didn't..." There were tears in her own eyes and she was trembling as badly as Jilla.
Sulu closed his eyes. Empire's best training house. Crystal Flame. And the tattoo. Of course, god, of course. "It's all right, Ruth," he said softly. "She can't help her reactions, there's no Vulcan in her. She'll be all right." He quietly soothed Jilla, then sent her off for a shower. He gave Ruth a quick hug and started to dress. "Did he give you any orders, Ruth?" he asked.
"Yes," Ruth answered after several seconds of nervous silence. "He said I was to report to Lieutenant Moreau for duty, but I don't know who Lieutenant Moreau is. Do you?" Before he could answer she continued. "Oh, and since I complained about being - hurt - he said to have Dr. McCoy - and Allison is…. Goddess, this isn't coherent, sorry. Carl Allison is her - my - personal guard, he's one of the people she sleeps with."
"Oh, that's just great," Sulu muttered,
"No, it is, or could be. Apparently she - I can go pretty much where I want. I don't think that's normal for - at least not without her - man - okaying it." She took a deep breath. "I don't think Allison will report anything I don't want him to."
"For a price," Sulu added wearily.
"I think she's already paid it," Ruth soothed. "And anyway, it wouldn't be that bad for me." She met Sulu's eyes, tried a weak smile. His answering grin was just as weak, and rueful. "And who is Lieutenant Moreau?" she asked.
"Captain's woman," Sulu replied. He walked over to the screens, hit a switch. It lit up with what was obviously Captain's quarters, and a woman was pinning up her hair. "Her," Sulu went on. "According to Uhura, she knew about the first transfer, and was sympathetic, but I don't know how things stand now. Better not to trust anyone."
"You use those things awfully naturally," Ruth murmured uneasily.
Sulu abruptly snapped off the screen. "Reflex," he said tonelessly. "Like your walk, and - " He stopped, glancing toward the bathroom.
"Jilla's 'training'?" Ruth asked. Sulu glared at her. She blushed, and looked away. "Sorry. How's Kevin?"
Sulu switched on another screen. This one showed a cell in the brig. Kevin was curled on the bed, sleeping restlessly. "I don't know if the Agony Booth does any physical damage," Sulu told her, "but he seems okay."
"I wish I could do something to help him," Ruth murmured.
Sulu turned off the screen and faced her. "How much of your talent have you lost?"
"I've got the talent, it's just not trained. It's sort of laying there, a useless lump in my mind. I don't know how long its going to take to get it responding, or even if I can. And Spock's one hell of a telepath," she added, angry and frightened.
"We know," Sulu replied softly. "You'd better go to McCoy. Maybe Allison won't tell, but McCoy would and I'd be willing to bet Spock will ask. As far as work goes, get what you can, Jilla will do the same. I've got all ship's functions on tape, so if you can get to what you need, you should be able to reverse what happened, right?"
Ruth was shaky. "Right," she said.
"And you'd better put the whore's mask back on your face, and the jewelry and fix your hair," he added. Jilla's sudden gasp turned him. Her hand clutched at her brand. She swallowed deliberately and Sulu could see the fight for calm.
"And - and I, I suppose?" she stammered.
He nodded ruefully. "Sorry, hon."
"Jilla," Ruth asked suddenly. "What does kal'aroun mean?"
Jilla's eyes got very wide, and she turned, bolting back to the bathroom, a shriek catching in her throat.
"Jilla?" Ruth called as Sulu ran after her. Sulu stopped in the doorway and spun around.
"That brand makes her property, a Vulcan's slave, Selar's slave. A bitch meant to be used, a slut, a whore. That's what kal'aroun means, Ruth."
"I'm sorry," Ruth pleaded as he moved into the other room.
"Just find out what you can," he called. "I'll talk to you later."
She swallowed her tears and turned, leaving.
Spock went over the day's beginning section reports, the communiques from Starfleet, and through a modification made in Kirk's quarters two years ago, any communication going out from the Captain's cabin. There was nothing of any significance, nothing out of line. Sulu had given Riley his personal attention, which served to confirm that Sulu wanted to take the boy down, yet have it not seem so. A dangerous game you are playing, Mr. Sulu, or do you believe the kal'aroun protects you? Or frees you, perhaps, since I am as indebted to her as she is to me? We shall see, and I believe it will be this evening.
He turned his thoughts away from personal considerations. The shipboard situation was rapidly approaching an optimum. Two years of patient planning was reaching fruition. His organization was at last powerful enough to wrest power from Kirk, powerful enough to hold it from any attempt Security might make to capitalize on the confusion caused by realignments. His mind, as always, went back to the turning point of his life. Something in my quarters that will make you invincible. How ironic that Kirk was the catalyst that would rid the galaxy of Kirk. The ship of Sarek's son, Sarek's heir, would be far different than the puppet-ship James T. Kirk ran.
Spock smiled, and it faded as his mind, content with business, returned to private thoughts. Ruth. My beautiful Antari. So beautiful I spoil her, far more than I should. I did not even draw blood from her last night, so as not to mar her perfection. Yet she deserves scars, and more. And yet again, how can she help her promiscuity? She is what she is. It is one of the things that intrigues you most, is it not, to tame her, to have Terrans acknowledge the worth of a man that can keep and hold one of her kind? But by all the gods she should be marked for her insolence!
I cannot do it.
I can, however, order it done.
And fitting that it be Sulu, if only as a precaution against her finding him too interesting. I will quite graciously take the kal'aroun out of his way. There are things that need clarification between she and I. Yes. It will accomplish much. And if all goes well, I may find a reason to let Riley live.
Ruth was almost glad her keheil talents weren't operating when she walked through the Sickbay. This was no place for an empath's compassion. There were people in all but two of the diagnostic beds. Most were strapped down, all were being ignored except a screaming woman that McCoy was looking at but not touching. The woman's uniform was bloody and there were bleeding slashes of knife wounds on her arms and across her face. Ruth gulped and fought the useless impulse to heal. Instead she stood quietly, waiting until McCoy finished attending the wounded woman. The doctor was perfunctory, bored, and haphazard. He didn't seem to care about his patient's pain or whether she lived or died. His only comment was "Tina, tell Anderson to slit your throat next time. I'm a busy man and I'm sick of you dragging yourself in here for a weekly transfusion."
Ruth was shaking with anger by the time he finished. "That is quite enough, doctor," she snapped.
He turned to face her, the snarl on his face turning to a sarcastic leer when he saw that it was the First Officer's woman who had addressed him. "Don't tell me Spock finally beat the shit out of you?" he drawled acidly.
"Why don't you just do your job, bastard, and keep your mouth shut," she ordered, then desperately fought the indignant anger that caused the words.
"Yes, ma'am, sorry ma'am," he answered with sudden meekness. His eyes were still angry but Ruth saw that he hadn't been surprised by her outburst. Everybody's temperamental, and we're supposed to be cruel, she reminded herself. I'm First Officer's woman, so I can get away with quite a bit. As long as I'm in favor, which right now I'm not. Remember that.
"Anything I can do to help you, ma'am?" McCoy asked, Tina completely forgotten.
Ruth did not want to be touched by this travesty of the gentle and caring man she knew so well, but she was not used to pain. Her back and breasts and face hurt, a dull ache, persistent and too much a reminder that she was powerless. She couldn't think clearly, as she needed to, while a part of her mind insisted on trying to stop something it couldn't. "A pain killer should be sufficient, Doctor. If you have any, that is."
McCoy couldn't hide his smile. He didn't even try. But he remained silent as he prepared and gave her the injection.
Ruth was careful to remember McCoy's attitude toward her as she approached Lieutenant Moreau. She's Captain's woman, my superior, so I grovel a little to her. Or a lot, depending on her reactions. Ruth studied the figure that was bent over a terminal for a second before trying to get her attention. She had noticed already the hostility in the looks Allison had exchanged with the guard that hovered near Moreau's chair. Moreau herself was lovely, and more important, she seemed to know what she was doing. She's intelligent, so be very careful, Ruth cautioned herself once again. "Ma'am?" she said, quiet, docile, respectful.
Moreau looked up quickly, her face alight with amused surprise. She smiled, not friendly, but not hostile either. "Yes, Ruth?" she said, only a hint of superiority in her tone. A hint was all that was needed.
Ruth lowered her eyes. "Mr. Spock said I was to report to you." She hesitated a second, then decided to gamble. "He said I was to inventory damage from the ion storm and check it against ship's records." Anything to get near the computer.
"Good for him," Moreau said. "That's one of the simplest things I can think of, and the most boring." She pointed. "Use that terminal, and try to stay out of my way."
"Yes, ma'am," Ruth answered from between clenched teeth. She flounced petulantly over to the terminal and it was only half an act. Try to stay out of your way! Listen, sister, I've forgotten more about computers than you're capable of learning and given a few hours to myself I'll have this one calling me mother!
Calm down, you haven't got time for this kind of carrying on. You want to get home? Get the work done first and think about it when you're back on board the Enterprise.
She didn't think it would be easy to do with Allison looking over her shoulder, but she quickly discovered that he had no notion of what she was doing. It was all incomprehensible to him and he had eyes only for her, not the information from screen or ear jack. She sighed with relief that Allison was so infatuated and glad that the computer was almost an exact duplicate of her own ship's computer. It took her only minutes to find and utilize the information she needed. With Jilla getting the appropriate data from Engineering they could compare notes and put together a way home. There were a few large ifs to consider, but things were looking up. With luck they might just make it. Ruth was so optimistic that she didn't mind the "that took long enough" from Moreau when she handed her the inventory report to initial.
"Sorry about that, ma' am," she murmured placidly, and smiled to herself.
Sulu sat in his office, very glad that he wasn't expected on the Bridge till the middle of first watch. He was also glad that here it was apparently one's personal guard's business to keep track of such things. Jeremy Paget had been replaced by Ramon Ordona at 0800. Ramon. In Security. It seemed impossible. He knew Ramon as a gentle man, a hesitant fellow swashbuckler. But there was no doubting the cruelty of that almost too handsome face, or the efficiency. Sulu was quite sure that this Ramon wasn't a hesitant anything.
He had automatically scanned the screens when he came in, just as automatically began reviewing the night's tapes. The volume of information was incredible, but he seemed to have files on it all. He also seemed to have bugs on people's bugs - Spock monitored Kirk's communications, had effectively blocked Kirk's monitoring of his own without letting Kirk realize that they were blocked. And no one suspected the extent of Security's web.
We may live, we just may.
Within an hour, it became obvious that Spock had an organization of operatives far larger and stronger than Kirk's. And very secret. Something about it rang some unconscious warning bell, and Sulu decided to look at the files on it. One personal notation was all he needed.
"Given time, and I think I will, Spock will have the strength to go ahead with Kirk's assassination." God, that monster as Captain? How could even a mirror image of myself sanction that? Sulu shuddered with the thought, trying not to let himself dwell on the horror of the very idea of assassination.
"However, I'll have to wait and see how Anderson's plan shapes up before making a decision there. If it is feasible, not too likely but always a possibility, I could let Spock rid me of Kirk, and then allow Anderson to rid me of Spock. I'd look marvelous in gold."
Sulu had left the tape file running. More intrigue, more casual talk of killing. Someone - Anderson - was planning Spock's assassination as Spock was apparently planning Kirk's. We may live, but god, do we want to? He switched off the reader and Ramon's voice said, "Henning's bitch wants to see you, Chief."
Who the hell...? "I've got time," Sulu replied casually. The office door opened and he had to consciously stop the startle reaction. Tara Ryan, in an Imperial uniform, looking as seductive as if he'd gotten her to drink three or four Saurian brandies. She saluted, her arm extending straight rather than angled upward, and breathed, "Thank you for seeing me, sir."
He swallowed, hoping she didn't notice. "What can I do for you, Miss Ryan?"
She approached him sensually. "You can call me Tara," she murmured, "then - anything you want."
"Why?" was all he could manage, though he made it sound amused.
"You're my direct superior - sir. I do want to be a good officer."
"And?" he prompted, praying madly as she ran her fingers over his chest.
"Henning can't take me anywhere. I just wanted you to know that I'm available - when you get tired of your Indiian." She kissed his throat. "And I'm willing to - please you - until then. Sir."
Sulu swallowed again, keeping the shaking from traveling from his mind to his body. He felt almost physically sick and it took a while to get his emotions under control. "I don't think I had to be told," he said, and her laughter was silky. She stepped back, reaching for the fastening at the side of her halter. He started to panic, managed to hold it in. "Not right now, Miss Ryan," he murmured and it sounded like a warning. At least, she reacted to it. She lowered her eyes, took an involuntary step back.
"At your convenience, of course, sir." she whispered, and hesitantly looked up again. He smiled, and she paled a little and Sulu damned himself. This face doesn't know how to smile reassuringly, he told himself bitterly. Then he remembered that reassuring her was likely the last thing his counterpart would have wanted to do. He turned so she wouldn't see the despair.
"Dismissed," he said, and closed his eyes as the door opened and closed.
After a moment he was able to shake off the uneasy, very sordid feeling and get back to his work. Study of a few more files gave him more background information. Crystal Flame was operated on Rigel 9 by Don Noel DelMonde. Don? Was that a title? It has to be Cajun, he thought. It's not exactly a common name. But how, why was the Cajun not in Starfleet, or an engineer. His personal note said "thanks, Don, she's one of your best" and his file said he was a "personal friend", but what in god's name was 'Don'?
Senator Valley was Ruth's father, the overseer of Antares for the Empire. Senator, like in the Roman senate? Here, Rome obviously never fell.
Jilla's father was Joel Costain, same position for Indi. And he was Terran. Jilla's half Terran?
The Takeda family was samurai, and they, too, never fell. They were the military elite for the Empire. He was samurai here, literally, not just descended from samurai. He felt a strange sort of pride, then put it away with the memory of the look on the faces of the guards when he'd said "personal discipline".
Kevin's father was a fortune hunter, one who practically sold his son to the military. Kevin had apparently trained hard and fast and though his tape had said he was one of Kirk's operatives, he, like all of Security, was Sulu's. Just one more way Sulu kept track of Kirk's actions.
And that was a deciding factor. As painful, as frightening as it was, he had begun to consider what they would do if they couldn't get home, how to keep all of them alive. Especially Kevin, since Spock wasn't pleased with him. The only answer was to hope Anderson succeeded. To let Security allow it.
At the thought, Sulu put his head in his arms, and groaned softly. He stayed that way until Ramon informed him he was due on the Bridge.
It was just plain luck that gave Ruth a chance to get to the Engineering section. Among the busywork, she was given was a fuel consumption report that had to be initialed by the heads of Science, Engineering and Security before being logged. She was stunned by the paranoia, but glad of the chance it gave her to see Sulu, and with luck, Jilla. If I'm in Engineering, she told herself firmly, I will see Jilla.
In the turbolift, Allison placed his arm around her waist. She started to pull away, heard him chuckle and remembered her role. She sighed seductively and reached up to slip her arms around his neck. She kissed him deeply but when he began to pull her closer she jerked quickly away. "Later," she promised. Goddess, I hope not, she thought. He murmured, "yes, ma'am," in her ear then went quickly back to being a silent, respectful shadow as the doors opened.
The only words Ruth recognized from the cacophony that reached her as she stepped out of the turbolift were "Roshian!" and "Ca!" Jilla was standing in front of Dav Miller screaming Indiian obscenities at him, her skin glowing brightly, looking every inch a barbarian. He was grinning maliciously, with his hands on his hips, waiting for her to finish. Ruth saw that he was casually fingering the agonizer on his belt. Anger, Ruth thought quickly, not hysteria. She's adjusting, playing the part. But Miller doesn't know it's an act and he's going to hurt her. How to stop -? Ruth ran across the deck and pulled Jilla around to face her, slapping her resoundingly. "Bitch, I got a beating because of you!" she screamed.
Jilla leapt. A second later Ruth was lying on the deck and Jilla was struggling with Allison who held her by the waist. Ruth saw Miller step forward with the agonizer. "NO!" she shouted and scrambled to her feet. "Get out of here, I'll take care of this!"
"Mr. Scott doesn't like cat-fights," Miller warned her.
"And I don't like your face! Go!"
Miller retreated quickly and Ruth grabbed Jilla by the shoulders. "Kroykah!" she hissed, hoping an all Indiian Jilla would respond to the Vulcan word. Jilla stiffened, then started shaking.
"I can't!" she wailed.
Ruth swore at herself, trying to think. I've scared her now, and she shouldn't be afraid, not of me, what can I - Spock? No, Sulu. Everyone will understand the fear and it'll calm her down. "Sulu will hear of this," she said, making her voice a taunt. "See how you like his discipline."
Allison chuckled, and Jilla went limp, falling from his grasp to the deck. Ruth could see the sobs she was fighting, but when she raised her head, the terror was back under control.
"Bitch," she growled.
"But First Officer's," Ruth replied smoothly. "Remember that." Allison didn't move to help Jilla up. Ruth turned to him, handing him the report. "Get that initialed, I've got a few things to say to this slut." Allison smiled, nodded, and Ruth waited until he was out of earshot.
"What was that about?" she asked quietly.
Jilla swallowed. "David - he - I was trying to do as Mr. Scott - Ruth, it is not...! - and he - David said he would not allow me near the board unless I - " She gulped. "As if it were a game, a quick - I do not know a word for it - kisses, caresses, not actual intercourse but - I told him I belonged to Sulu and he said it had never stopped me before." She was shaking again, and Ruth gave her hand a quick squeeze. "He insisted, I got angry, as I thought I should. Why did you hit me?"
"He had an agonizer. I though he was going to use it on you," Ruth explained.
"Can I not take care of myself?" Jilla insisted angrily.
"Well, I was scared for you."
"I have to cope, by myself, do I not?"
Ruth closed her eyes and nodded. "Sorry."
Jilla's anger fled and she started shaking again. "But I do not know what I would have done if he had - " Her voice broke into a short, bitter laugh. "Respond, as I did last night, as the thing this makes me." She touched the scarring at her throat, and Ruth winced.
"What have you got, anything?" she asked to keep her mind off the words Spock had used. Jilla shook her head.
"And I will not unless I - service - Mr. Miller."
"Oh Christ. And I've got Allison to worry about. Things seem to work on a simple barter system around here."
"Ruth..." Jilla began.
"I know, you can't," Ruth groaned. She glanced at Dav. "But I don't know if I dare. If Spock..."
"Yet you said Allison..."
"That's right. She seems to..."
"With anyone if Allison is... "
"Oh goddess! But I don't have any..."
"I would if..."
"I know. Okay, let's get this going."
They looked at each other in surprise. Ruth smiled hopefully. Jilla's response was a relieved sigh. "Valjiir," she whispered.
"Thank god something's going right for us," Ruth replied. "Let's go."
She made a quick check to see if Allison was back. Then she took a deep breath and sidled over to Dav.
"You won't mention this to Scott, or Spock, will you, Dav?" she murmured as seductively as she could. He grinned, not at all friendly.
"I could be persuaded," he said, "but you don't like my face."
She laughed throatily. "It's not your face I'm worried about."
His embrace was harsh, quick, and she pulled him into a corner and asked Judy to forgive her.
Jilla got to the Engineering board as soon as David was occupied, trying not to hear his grunts, or Ruth's whispered passion. The systems all seemed familiar, nothing was different enough to cause her any trouble. Sulu had told her to see about a tie-in direct to the engines. She could do it, with help from the computers. She was about to try an experiment, then noticed a lead that shouldn't be there. Monitored. Scott or Sulu? She had no way of telling, and so didn't touch it.
"Signed and... Ruth?" Allison's voice suddenly broke into Jilla's thoughts. Cover for her, she thought desperately.
"She is whoring, Allison, as usual," she said dryly. His mouth hardened and Jilla stopped the flood of pity. He loved her, and it hurt him. But he will turn on her if she fails to make it up to him, and soon. Ruth, I am sorry!
Sulu stepped onto the Bridge, noting that the con was empty, and damn near a throne. He glanced around and headed for the helm. David Kelly quickly moved out of his way. Ramon took a place near the door to the stairs as Sulu took his seat. Chekov sat next to him, ignoring him. At Sciences, Spock gazed coolly at him, then turned back to his work. Geoff Redford nodded almost imperceptibly from Engineering, and Sulu realized he must belong to the Chief of Security. Uhura had stared suggestively when he'd come on, licking her lips in sensual invitation. That they were all familiar only made the contrast more hopelessly despairing. How could these - people - be the crewmembers he'd worked with for years? It gave him a more than sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he turned to his board.
The Security indicators took well over half of the expanded space before him. It made the job he had to do seem impossibly complex: run the helm, watch the screen, and keep track of every light on the panel. How did he do it?
He heard the hiss of the turbolift and turned his head. It was the Captain, and Sulu was unprepared for the strange mixture of emotions that filled him. Fear, anger, betrayal, resentment, sorrow, disbelief. The man he had served proudly, respected more than any other, was a brutish, arrogant, swaggering lord, unquestioned master. The face that had been boyishly charming was now uncaring, proud, etched with an essence of violence.
He stood surveying his bridge, and Sulu joined the rest of the crew in a standing salute until he had seated himself in the con.
Sulu didn't like having to sit with his back to the man. He had to make a conscious effort to keep the tension out of his back and shoulders. He wondered if this waiting to be attacked from behind while on the Bridge was the constant attitude of the Sulu who usually sat here. Stupid question, he realized. That pig would do anything to keep power and my - twin - knows it better than anyone. There's not really much to choose between him and Spock - except our safety. If. Please don't let it be if.
Spock noticed the slight hesitation before the Chief of Security stood, the almost casual attitude of the salute that was usually just short of menacing in its force. He wondered automatically of this was a subtle sign, an indication that Sulu knew of his strength and would welcome a change in the command of the ship. Spock did not go so far as to hope: wondering was enough. Your days, Captain, are numbered.
He returned to his work, and looked up again moments later as Ruth stepped onto the Bridge. He appreciated her beauty for a moment, then realized that Sulu was as well, much too blatantly. Or was it avidly? Yes, there was a cold concern there, desire to see how his game had been completed. Did you think I would mark her as crudely as you do, Terran? Ruth glanced at Sulu, quickly looking away, and Spock felt his blood rising. You dare to taunt him still, woman? his mind seethed. Spoiled, pampered, do you not yet know your place?
Coldness crept over him, and he suddenly smiled. It will not be private, Ruth, not this time. Perhaps that will convince you of my sincerity. She approached him with the clipboard, and as he took it, he said, just loudly enough without seeming to be announcing, "Miss Valley, you will report to Mr. Sulu at the completion of your duty period. I find your discipline in need of reinforcement."
She wasn't looking at him, but her body stiffened. She had not thought he would humiliate her. Good. From the corner of his eye he saw Sulu quickly turning back to his board. You are welcome, Mr. Sulu, he thought acidly. Your forms of pleasure will only serve to bind her more securely to me.
Spock ignored the delighted if subdued reactions of the Captain and crew to this spectacle and handed the clipboard back to Ruth. He tilted her face up to his and added privately, "Hope I do not find the kal'aroun too pleasing, Ruth." Fear sprang into her eyes and he let her go.
Sulu had tried to unobtrusively catch Ruth's eye, wanting to know if she had been able to have any contact with Jilla. He knew she'd gotten to the computers; his web was tightly woven. Even in Sciences, Spock only knew what the Chief of Security wanted him to. Thank god he had found out that much about the monitors.
She didn't spare him more than a glance, an uncomfortable, worried one, then went to Spock with something to sign. The Vulcan's words shocked but delighted him. Ruth wouldn't have to sleep with the monster, not tonight. And with all night to work, Valjiir can get us home! Thank you, God, Buddha, Aema, thank you all!
He kept his relief inside, knowing any joy that showed would be interpreted as savage, lustful greed. Chekov chuckled, a nasty sound, and for once he was glad of the depravity that seemed innate to this set of his features. Ruth came toward him, and he looked up at her, ready to share the release.
Her face was pale, her violet eyes swirling with terror and anguished anxiety. Her lips moved soundlessly and he simply stared, unable to question her, to soothe her, to even reassure her. He suddenly felt no reassurance to give.
She handed him the clipboard, and he looked at it, then signed at her slight nod. She hesitated only a fraction of a second, then left the Bridge, and he closed his eyes with trapped, puzzled concern.
It wasn't until several hours later when he entered the turbolift beside Spock at the end of watch that he understood. "You will treat my woman in such a way that there are visible marks but no serious injuries," Spock informed him. "I shall, of course, take the kal'aroun for the night. A satisfactory arrangement for us both, do you not agree?"
His heart stopped. No, this couldn't be, not Jilla - I told her, promised her. I'd take care of her. I'd protect her. No one will touch you, you're safe, no one would dare to cross me... I forgot about Spock, god help me I didn't even think of him. He can do it. Not even Security can dare defy him. What can I do, god what can I do?
"Satis-" the first half of the word was out before Sulu could stop it. It was meant to be a hiss of rage, a snarl of angry, defiant fury. You can't have her, can't touch her, not Jilla, not my little one! But he fought it, beat at the pain, forced down the hatred and hopeless fear. "-factory." Oily, drawn-out syllables of malevolent hunger. Spock nodded, and he held his breath, remaining rigid and silent until the turbolift door opened. It was a zombie who moved down the corridor to the Security Chief's quarters, but when the door closed behind him, it was Sulu who screamed.
Allison nearly fell over himself with solicitous concern as he escorted Ruth to Sulu's quarters. He told her not to worry, he'd heard Sulu had mellowed since Costain, she'd be hurt, but not disfigured. He told her Spock didn't want her damaged permanently. But his eyes were lit with a vindictive gleam and Ruth knew her quick, furtive groping with him on the way to the Bridge hadn't been enough to make him forget Dav Miller. She only half heard the things he was saying, her mind was too full of anxiety for Jilla. If she had been given the slightest chance she would have tried to talk or seduce Spock out of it, but she had been allowed nowhere near him. What could they do? She already knew the answer. Nothing. And even though she had no control over what happened, she couldn't help feeling guilty for being safe at such cost to Jilla. And Sulu… Goddess, this is going to kill him.
Ramon Ordona stood outside Sulu's cabin, and he smiled at her, dangerous and disdainful, then told Allison he'd take her. Ruth shuddered at Ramon's grasp of her arm, the hardness of his voice as he announced her to Sulu. She was pushed through the door, stumbled, and looked up.
Sulu was turning from a display of weapons, a saber in his hand, his eyes wild with anguish. "I'll kill him," he rasped, and Ruth knew he knew.
"I think I'd help you if I could," she said as tears began to blur her vision.
She was in his arms before she knew it, and he was sobbing 'god my baby, what can I do?' over and over. He hadn't let go of the blade and she could feel it shaking in his hand.
Ramon's voice said, "Sorry Chief" with a deep chuckle, and Jilla stepped into the cabin.
Ruth turned, Sulu's grip on the hilt of the saber tightened. Jilla stared, took a step forward, then inhaled sharply, her eyes swirling slates of confusion and emotion. Sulu groaned, the sword dropping, and Ruth whispered Jilla's name. Jilla's answer was high-pitched, one snapped-off word.
"What?"
Sulu rushed to her and grasped her protectively. She trembled and held him tightly, sharing all of his and Ruth's turbulent emotions without understanding them. "I'm sorry," he moaned, "I didn't know, didn't think, baby I'm sorry!"
"What?" she said again, barely in control of her tremulous voice.
"Jilla," Ruth broke in, faltering. "Spock..." She didn't get a chance to finish. Ramon's voice came again. "Sepak for Miss Costain," he drawled, and the door opened, Spock's Vulcan guard striding purposefully into the room.
"Come, kal'aroun," he said, and Jilla started to scream.
Ruth stood, paralyzed with horror as Jilla scrambled hysterically away from Sulu, across the room. Sulu snarled, "Get the hell out of here," to Sepak.
Sepak said calmly, "Orders, sir."
"I'll send her when..." Sulu began, and Sepak frowned, stepping toward Jilla, moving faster than Sulu could. Jilla's shrieks reached a fever pitch as the Vulcan's hand shot out to her shoulder, and Ruth lunged, screaming, "NO!"
Jilla slumped unconscious, the sudden silence deafening as Ruth's cry faded.
"The Commander is not fond of delays," Sepak growled tersely, then lifted Jilla into his arms, carrying her out of the cabin.
Sulu stood, helpless, filled with unbelieving horror. He was unable to move or speak, a coiling spring of fierce desperation. When the door closed behind Sepak, the spring broke and he leapt to the door, his fists hitting the metal in futile agony. Jilla's name was a cry of raw anguish as he slumped to his knees, his arms upraised in empty, desolate supplication. The sobs came, the terrible wracking fury, and Ruth collapsed beside him, holding him, crying with him.
Spock looked angry as Sepak came in, placing Jilla on his bed. "She fought," Sepak said in explanation. "Apparently she was not pleased with your woman's presence in her quarters. Miss Valley was also upset at the idea of the kal'aroun with you. She attempted to stop me."
Spock's temper calmed and he nodded curtly to his bodyguard. Sepak saluted, and left the room. So, Ruth is worried. Good. Perhaps this will teach her she is not irreplaceable. It would do no good to force the kal'aroun to wake. And he could wait. She would more than make up for any lost time.