“Jeremy, will you...” Rand began.
Paget turned from the doorway of his quarters. “No, ma’am.”
Rand bristled. “You didn’t even wait to hear...”
“There’s no way I’m taking you planetside. Everyone down there knows you’re Sulu’s and the spectacle you made of yourself. I don’t need the prestige.” The tone of voice made the sarcasm of Paget’s last sentence evident.
“Are you afraid of Sulu, Jeremy?” Rand said, sweetly vicious.
“Fuck yes, I'm not an idiot.” He didn’t add ‘not like some people,’ but Rand was as annoyed as if he had.
“I’m bored to tears, Paget!” she shrieked.
“Tell Sulu,” Paget called over his shoulder as the door slid shut.
Rand hurled a pillow at the door and let out a near scream of frustration. Only three days of leave left, and she hadn’t been anywhere or done anything. She got up from the bed, smoothing her hair, pulling the silky gown from her body with furious disdain. She paced angrily. Sometimes I wonder if all the effort’s worth it, she muttered to herself. Climbing up the ladder, from bed to bed, making all the right moves at all the right times... Then comes a time when you should be rewarded for all the patient work, and you’re totally ignored! Men! The least little distraction and they forget everything else. For what? For a whim. Following orders, is he? He could have turned them over to Security. But no, this had to be personal. So fucking personal that no one’s seen him for days. There’s a planet down there full of beautiful things and he’s forgotten all about it. He’s forgotten all about me. If this were Corsair, or Lorelei, or some dull R and R base.... But it’s Darius, showplace world. I need to mingle, to be seen, maybe to be noticed. Chief of Security’s Woman. I could be so much more if I had the proper chance.
She sat down on the bed, furiously rearranging her hair. It wasn’t that she missed Sulu’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that she needed him to get off the ship, she would have applauded a few days rest and recovery. She certainly applauded who was getting the benefits of his full concentration. Spoiled, pampered pets, she thought in disgust. They’ve had everything their own way all their lives. No wonder they didn’t take to being ship whores, they’re used to picking and choosing who to fuck. Lazy bitches! Work for a living like the rest of us! Senators’ daughters. What she wouldn’t give to have been born a Senator’s daughter. Or to belong to a starship Captain. She’d live with being a pet for that. Or for an Admiral. Or a Senator. Why not a Terlord? She’d seen Hasim at Crystallize! If she could only catch his attention... She knew Sulu knew him, she could be introduced...
“Damn Sulu anyway!” she shouted at the empty room. It hadn’t always been this way. She hadn’t always had to play it on the edge just to get his attention. There had been a time when he couldn’t wait to get into her. He’d played his torture games right from the start, but it used to be a means, not an end. Foreplay. She hadn’t minded. How could she when he always made it feel so damned good? She made him think she adored that kind of thing, and it had hooked him. It wasn’t an easy role, but it had gotten her off the crew-deck. Chief of Security was a damn good springboard to other, higher positions. And he more than compensated for a temporary halt in her ambitions. She vividly remembered the first time he’d bedded her. It was impossible to forget one’s first real orgasm. So many years of faking the damned thing just to placate male egos... But Sulu made it genuine. Even now, she shivered with the memories.
But now all he wants is pain. He only gives pleasure as a reward for good - no, correct behavior. His own definition of correct, which changes by the hour. And I have to beg him for that.
She crossed the room, heading for the shower, still fuming. What was in this for her? For an Admiral, a Terlord, she might put up with it, but what was one Chief of Security on one starship? She wanted status, prestige, and Sulu gave her a collar. I’ll take the collar to get the status, but without it, to Tartarus with leashes! I’m not a damn Senatorial pet!
She knew the rules, had known them since she was a little girl sold to a Haven trader’s harem to pay one of her father’s debts. As long as the women plays it how her man wants it, he gives her protection and security. She had spent every minute with Sulu playing it his way, making sure everyone knew how much she loved his nasty habits. She exhibited the scars and bruises with pride and proper disdain for lesser females who couldn’t take it. She gave him the occasional excuse for his violence, because that’s how the game was played. And now, after making sure that no one else on the ship would dare touch her, he ignored her, humiliated her, even to throwing her to sleep in his personal guard’s cabin while he took ship’s discipline home to her bed.
Fucking bastard!
Clean, but not at all refreshed, she got a uniform and dressed. She could go shopping, spend a lot of Sulu’s credit. But why bother? What was the use of going down to Darius without a man? Wasn’t there one man on board with the balls to at least take her shopping? Maybe someone from Engineering, Scott’s people were neutrals. And if she could find a chaperone or two, Sulu wouldn’t be able to accuse her of anything.
She left Paget’s cabin still scowling in annoyance and took the turbolift to Engineering. It made one stop on the crew deck, and Uhura stepped in. Her dark eyes widened in surprise.
“I thought you’d be planetside,” Uhura said. Rand glared. Uhura’s face quickly took on an expression of concern. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right!” Rand snapped, her anger bursting from its seething cage. “This whole week’s been a disaster! Everything from a broken jaw to being a virtual prisoner on board to being ignored by the man who’s supposed to be mine!”
Uhura shook her head sympathetically. “Do you want to talk about it, Janice?”
Sulu stretched, looking up from his work to the monitors above his desk. Bridge normal, Engineering and Transport normal, Auxiliary Bridge, Sciences, Sickbay, all normal. He really didn’t have to check them. His second was officially responsible since he was technically on leave. Still, it was good never to completely forget ship’s security.
He leaned back in his chair and turned his attention to two special viewscreens: his quarters, the Soundroom. Jilla was asleep on his bed, curled tightly in the only release he’d left her. Were he to go to her, wake her, she’d stay quiet and docile, trapped in her inability to feel unless he allowed it. If he turned her on, she would obey without question simply to gain another minute of being, knowing he could plunge her back into nothingness whenever it suited him.
Ruth, on the other hand...
He had left her in the Soundroom, knowing the fear of it being turned on again would be a constant background to her thoughts. She alternated between sitting in a corner, obviously trying to wait him out, and pacing nervously, back and forth across the small room. Timing was all important here. He had to rip her sense of self from her often enough to keep her off balance, but not too frequently, or she’d find a way to hide her soul from him. Pain was the easiest way to disorient her, but he knew that she could become inured to it. There simply wasn’t enough variety available to him, even as Chief of Security.
Unless, of course, she could be made to provide her own variety.
Yes, he thought. Turn her own mind against her. Her body has already betrayed her, if her mind opposes her, and her heart, will it take long for her soul to follow?
Her heart. That might be tricky.
He decided to take it one step at a time. Her mind, first. That would give him time to think of how to best win Ruth Valley’s love.
He’s not going to win, he’s not. So my body likes what he does. He’s good in bed. Nothing wrong with that. It might make it easier when I have to deal with Kirk or Spock. It doesn’t mean I’ve lost anything. Sex is supposed to feel good. Just because he’s the only one in this universe who knows that...
Ruth shuddered, trying to block the memory, but her body had other ideas. Do you want me to fuck you again anyway? She had thought he wouldn’t be able to duplicate the frenzied need; she had been reacting to the release from pain more than him, hadn’t she? He’d proven her very, very wrong. His fingers had danced knowingly over her, his tongue as skilled, as knowledgeable. He aroused her as no other man had ever done, almost as if he’d had some sixth sense to tell him exactly the proper touch to maximize her hunger. She tried to refuse it, tried to simply lay still and allow him to take what he wanted. But the need he called forth from her was greedy and insistent, clouding her mind with unbridled passion. He taunted her, exciting her until her body cried out in desperation, the consequences be damned. She had climbed on top of him, she had grasped his hard flesh, guiding it urgently to penetrate her. She had ridden him like an animal in heat, grinding herself down on his cock, moving and sliding against him. She had thrown her head back and screamed in orgasm, then shamelessly demanded more.
And the son-of-a-bitch had obliged her.
But that was only sex, only my body, she insisted. I didn’t give him anything of me.
She only wished she could make herself believe that.
She looked up as a figure came toward the force-screen of the cell. Then she stood, trying to tug her clothing into some semblance of order. Not that it matters, she thought bitterly, since he’ll undoubtedly only take them off you again.
Sulu smiled as he crossed the doorway, stepping over to her. He held out his hand. There was a shimmering, multi-colored capsule there, almost like jelled confetti. “You’re going to take this now, Ruth,” he said.
She stared at it, then at him. “No, I’m not,” she said. His hand came behind her neck so swiftly that she would have sworn he hadn’t moved.
“I think you are.”
She swallowed. “What is it?”
His dark eyes gleamed at her. “It will make your every wish come true,” he replied. “Or, at least, they will seem to come true.” He paused, then added, “You can even go home.”
For a moment, Ruth froze. He couldn’t mean... did he know...? She saw the amusement in his eyes, and realized he was only talking of her ‘home’ with Senator Valley. And with that realization, she knew what the capsule was.
“Hallucinogen,” she stated. He nodded, his smile widening.
“Intelligent girl.” His grip on the back of her neck tightened. “Take it.”
She pressed her lips shut, shaking her head. He sighed.
“Ruth, darling, we can do this the easy way, or you can continue to be stubborn.” He leaned close to her, his other hand coming up to cup the back of her head, his breath tickling in her ear. “You know I’ll win eventually.” His tongue slipped along the curve of flesh, then nipped her earlobe, sharp but quick.
“Then you’ll have to work for it,” Ruth managed. She was abruptly pulled close to his chest, his hips pressing insistently against hers. To her shame, she could feel her loins already responding.
“You’re too good to me,” he growled, and both hands were grasping her head, forcing her into a bruising, passionate kiss. Her mouth opened helplessly beneath it, her tongue entwining with his.
She felt the capsule in her mouth a second before he pulled away, his hand clamping her jaw shut. She tried to struggle and was forced to the deck. His body followed hers down, pinning her beneath him. His free hand came up over her mouth and nose.
“Swallow, Ruth,” he whispered.
She fought uselessly, grasping at his wrists, trying to force his hands away from her face. They only pressed down harder. Her lungs began shrieking for oxygen, her body jerking under his. Panic set in, she writhed and twisted, desperate to get free. He pushed his hips more firmly against her, and moaned, “Baby, that feels so good...”
She swallowed.
His hand left her face and he let her sit up. She gasped for air, trying not to choke as the capsule slid down her throat. “Bastard,” she coughed, “goddamned bastard!”
“Hungry bitch,” he replied jovially. He stood, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “Come on.”
She was shaking, afraid to refuse, afraid to comply.
“Do you want me to activate this room, Ruth?”
Fear shot through her. “No,” she answered immediately.
“Come on.”
Shamefaced, Ruth took his hand, standing up. He walked toward the doorway. Meekly, Ruth prepared to follow. He stepped through it, then swiftly turned, re-activating the force-screen. Her eyes widened.
“You should have taken the easy way, Ruth,” he said.
She screamed as the sound again came crashing into her ears.
Sulu only waited the fifteen minutes it took for the drug to take effect. Ruth was screaming and the sound went straight to his cock. You really want that golden pussy, don’t you? he chided himself. It’ll have to wait. Business before pleasure.
He deactivated the sonics and watched as Ruth crumpled to the deck. Deliberately he removed his uniform sash with its agonizer, communicator, and phaser. He took off his boots, shed his tunic. The guard at the panel stared straight ahead as Sulu instructed him to again turn off the force-screen.
He knelt beside the sobbing figure, taking her head gently in his arms. She was crying incoherently, he could only make out the word ‘bastard’ repeated over and over. He murmured ‘bitch’ to her, then chuckled as it renewed her sobs. She clutched at him, her tears cool on his bare skin. He gathered her to him, stroking her, calming her, then whispered, “Here it comes again, honey.”
She gasped, then shrieked, clutching her ears, writhing in his grasp. Seconds passed, and he snapped his fingers. She jumped, then collapsed against him, begging, “no more, no more!” He soothed her again, kissing her, reveling in the strength of her returned passion. He eased her to her back, and she reached for him hungrily, her huge, purple eyes bright and dazed. Slowly, steadily, he inched his way into her, watching the pleasure overwhelm her. She moaned, her eyes closing, and he said, loudly, clearly, “Again.”
Her body spasmed as her screaming began anew. He grabbed her wrists, keeping her hands from her ears as he thrust rhythmically into her struggling body. The sensation was incredible, but he kept his mind firmly on business and called out, “Enough!”
She threw herself against him with a cry of helpless relief, her hips immediately beginning to grind feverishly against his. His name was a repeated chant from her lips, as though it were a supplication to some dark god. He went with it, letting the feeling wash over him, then pulled fiercely away.
She screamed. “NO!” and lunged after him. She was quicker than he expected, and she toppled him over, her body savagely engulfing him, wantonly demanding. He tried to throw her off, but she dug her knees into his sides, her eyes blazing with fiery passion. He closed his eyes to shut off the flow of brutal urgency, then whispered, “I have a knife, Ruth.”
She gasped, her body arching back, and he grasped her hips, attempting to regain control. He felt something warm and slippery under his fingers, and opened his eyes. A slash of red blood dripped across Ruth’s abdomen.
What in the name of the gods...!
She cried out again, and another slice appeared at her breast. He pushed her off of him, kneeling over her prone body. Her eyes were tightly closed, her face covered in sweat. Her hair was a tangled mass sticking to her skin, and she shrieked as a careful line of blood began forming at her temple, mirroring the scar he himself bore.
She’s doing it to herself, he marveled. All I had to do was mention a knife, and she’s doing it to herself. This was better, far better than he had dared imagine. He had thought that under the influence of the kaleidoscope, only her mind would play tricks on her. But this... this was perfect, this was certain victory. He would be her only reality, he alone would be able to tell her what was hallucination, and what was not.
“No knife, Ruth,” he said. She froze, then her eyes opened. He stared at her, and she shuddered. The wounds disappeared, leaving only the smears of very real blood. He bent his head, carefully tasting it, licking it from the smooth, unmarked skin beneath it. “Orgasm, Ruth,” he suggested.
She convulsed with it, her cries heady and breathless. He smiled, kissing her, letting her cling to him in helpless exhaustion. He gently pressed his fingertips to her engorged nipple. “Agonizer,” he whispered, and felt her body stiffen, her muscles actually vibrating with the imaginary current. He lifted his hand and she wept, her eyes entreating.
Satisfaction spread through him. He spent the hours that the drug was active exploring her imagination with her. There was no pleasure they did not share, no pain they did not inflict. Yet, when the drug began to wear off, she was perfect, unmarked, more whole than she had been when they had started. All it had taken was a few, soft words: “You’re completely healed, Ruth.” She lay, now, nearly unconscious in his arms. Exhausted himself, he lay with her, his heart and eyes full of fierce joy. One thought burned in his soul.
She’s mine.
Uhura turned down Paget’s invitation with a smile, a plea of exhaustion and a promise of another night. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t’ve enjoyed an evening with Jeremy and Janice. But after a morning spent shopping and listening to Chapel whine, and an afternoon talking with Rand, she had so very much to think about. Poor Christine was so insecure, so fearful. Life was simply not being fair to dear Janice. And Leonard; frustrated, overburdened Leonard was having such a hard time. So many dissatisfied people, all of them waiting for her to find the right time to turn it to her advantage. Not that they knew it, of course. And by the time they did, she would have made sure they wanted her to.
She entered her quarters, going through the usual checking for any sign that they had been entered since she last left them. Not that she expected anything, but one could never be too sure where Security was concerned. It was possible, remote, but possible, that Sulu suspected her intentions. It didn’t hurt to be safe and she couldn’t afford to be complacent.
A long, hot bath was the perfect place to think. It relaxed the body and gave the head less distractions. Uhura programmed the whirlpool for a comfortable water temperature, then slipped into the waiting warmth.
It would take time, but things were falling nicely into place. Timing was important, and patience. Patience she had always had, waiting for the right moment before striking. Fleet had been a wise choice for her. In Fleet, if you had natural talent, you could rise quickly. She had had to take the usual route and the usual risks, but she had always found room to innovate. She had been careful, proving herself valuable out of bed as well as in it. There weren’t many women who succeeded, but she planned to be one of them. So far, only one woman had made it all the way to a captaincy. She had decided to be the second. She was willing to go slowly, to want and achieve one thing at a time before planning the next step. The scheming on a starship was more intense than anywhere else in the Empire, barring the Imperial Court itself, but it was also the fastest, surest route to wealth and power. She had worked hard to get her commission, and it had taken her five years to become a lieutenant and the Chief Communications Officer. She had kept away from the main power struggles, she didn’t aspire to be Kirk’s woman, or Spock’s. They were too smart, too strong. She would have no room to maneuver there. Scott wouldn’t be used, but he wouldn’t interfere with anything that didn’t directly effect him, either. McCoy was easy to manipulate. What a gift from the gods his irrational hatred for Sulu had been! As for the rest of the crew...
There was a growing disgruntlement among certain crewmembers. Promotions had been slow in coming lately, and while the booty was as good as it had always been - if not better - wealth was never enough. It was obvious to her, and was becoming obvious to others, that some kind of triumvirate had formed. Kirk, Spock and Sulu were protecting each other. But if one were disposed of, the whole thing would fall apart. And ironically, Sulu was the easiest target. Fortunate that it was Sulu’s job she wanted. To get it, she would have to kill him, or get Kirk or Spock to kill him. If he could be proven inefficient, the Captain would replace him; with, naturally, the person who had gotten through Security’s defenses. She knew if she could shield herself by using the right people, she could pull it off without getting killed herself. She would make a very good Chief of Security.
Twisted metal, the stench of charred flesh, life fading all around her. Her leg was crushed, desperate healing, her mother’s voice in her mind: ‘Save yourself, my child, my daughter, there is nothing to be done for us.’ Struggling, crawling, blinded by tears and blood, so many dead, Daddy, Daddy....!
You’re completely healed, Ruth.
Abruptly the image faded, all pain and memory of pain soothed, all guilt flowing out and away from awareness. But was it real? Had the memory really gone? Was it even a memory? Was she back on the Blakely feeling her parents die, was all that had happened since that horrible day nothing more than a dream, a fevered hallucination...?
Ruth turned over, clutching to Sulu. “Tell me if it’s real,” she rasped, her eyes wide with terror. She felt his arms coming around her - or did she? - his voice soft in her ear.
“I’m real, Ruth,” he said.
She swallowed. “No ship, no fire...”
“The Imperial Star Ship Enterprise,” he replied. “Captain James Kirk. Commander Spock. And I am...?”
Joy washed over her. “Sulu,” she breathed.
“Good girl.”
She held onto him more tightly, focusing on the warmth of his skin, its deep, bronze color. That was real. She could hear his heart beating and the air moving in his lungs. That was real. His fingers played absently in her hair, and that, too, was real. She was real. Somewhere inside her, a voice was screaming at her, reminding her of the drug and of a hallucinogen’s effect on an empathic mind. It tried to tell her that it was the drug, that Sulu had done nothing. But it didn’t matter, and even the voice knew it didn’t matter. Sulu could give her the drug again, and if he did, it would drive her insane. Therefore, he was the master of her reality.
Sulu sat up, gently setting her away from him. He swept the hair from her face, tilting her chin up. “Feeling better, honey?” he asked.
She nodded, then glanced down at her own body. “I could use a bath,” she said.
“Is that real?” he said mildly.
She shivered. “Tell me,” she whispered.
“Good girl.” He leaned forward, kissing her. “Yes, I think it is.” He glanced around, reaching for his uniform pants and what was left of her dress. “Get dressed.”
She took the dress, simply tying it around her breasts and hips. He took her hand, leading her to the force-screen. One gesture to the guard de-activated it, and he stepped out, bringing her with him. He retrieved his tunic, boots, sash and equipment, then spoke to the guard. “Get that cleaned up. I might be needing it again.”
“No!” Ruth cried out involuntarily. Sulu smiled at her.
“Did I say for you, Ruth?”
Hating her own fear, she shook her head.
“But, then, I didn’t say not for you, did I?”
Anger welled in her mind and she bit it back. He is the master of my reality, she said to herself, and accepted with proud despair that she had made it so.
Jilla knew by the numbness that she was awake, and that Sulu was gone. Sulu. Even the thought of his name brought her being.
She was his. Completely. Willingly. There was no thought of ever being anything else. She couldn’t now remember a time when it hadn’t been so. He was all that mattered to her, had ever mattered to her. She knew he had caused it. He had forced this need into her; but one did not fault a god for the traits he created. He was to be blessed, adored, and worshipped for giving her that need, for existing so that it could be filled. She knew she could never return to him the proper measure of devotion, but she could give herself, everything she was, into his hands. It was his right, and his due. He had made her feel this way and it was just. It was her privilege to respond, and her only joy.
The darkness was cold and frightening, but she waited. He would return, and then she’d be alive again.
The limbo went on. There was no way to measure the time. Hours? Days? She couldn’t tell. The fear slowly crept into her. Was this the last? Would he leave her here, alone, non-being, non-existing, dying but never dead forever?
Wait. Wait for Sulu. He will tell you.
Alone, so terribly alone. Nothing to touch, to see or hear or feel... No feeling... Sulu, help me!
The sound was heard, but didn’t register. The hiss of the door, soft voices.
“I want to please you.”
Who was that?
“You do, Ruth.”
Ruth? How long had it been since she’d thought of...
The flash was washed away in waves of desperate hope. Sulu! She swallowed up his voice. Please, Sulu, come to me!
“Is it real?”
“Yes. For now.”
Jilla grasped at the voice, sparks of being in the dark nothingness. Silently she begged him for more.
“Go on, you need a bath.”
“Come with me.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“It won’t be real without you.”
“It will if I say it will.”
“Please, Sulu...”
No! Jilla cried. I need you, come to me, please... Then she could see him, a shadow near the doorway. Heart pounding, she waited, trusting him.
“I’m exhausted, Ruth.”
“Stay, please, just a little while? The water will be warm...”
“Will it?”
“Tell me.”
The shadow turned, a yielding chuckle filling the darkness. “All right, I’ll come. Yes, it will be warm.”
Jilla felt her heart stop, numbing. The wail in her mind faded with the blackness. She had displeased him, it was her fault. If she could have begged him for the punishment she deserved, she would have. But without Sulu, there could only be nothing.
Sulu made love to Ruth in the bath. He knew it was what she really wanted, just as he knew her giving him control of her reality was both genuine and her choice. It was good, sating, to know that she still had the choice, but to also know what that choice would inevitably be.
He allowed her to dry him, commenting on how good a rub-down she gave him. The pride filling her eyes was very satisfying, as was her reaction when he told her the towel wasn’t real. He could see the doubt in the glance she gave the thick material, could almost see it fading in her hands. When she looked up at him, her face going pale, he relented and told her he’d just been testing her. Purple fire flashed in her gaze, and he gave the proper reply; ‘bitch.’ It was becoming quite an endearing exchange.
She followed him into the sleeping area, and he removed a blanket from the bed, tossing it to her. “Stay there,” he told her. “I need to get some sleep.”
“Can’t I come to bed with...?”
“I said I wanted to sleep, Ruth.”
Her laugh was a little shrill. He kissed her, settling her down on the deck. “It’s real until I come back,” he murmured. She sighed, genuine acceptance in her eyes.
He stood up, going to the bed, and looked down into open eyes of dull slate. Little Jilla's awake, is she? And waiting all this time? Such a good girl.
He stretched, then knelt over her. He whispered her name, his fingers gliding over her skin. Her eyes came alive, her arms coming up around his neck in fervent welcome. He smiled at her, kissing her as he slipped into the bed beside her. “Sleep,” he told her.
“Sulu...?”
“I’m staying right here, hon. Go back to sleep.”
There was a moment of hesitation, then she said, quickly, as if afraid to speak the words, “I love you.”
He turned, taking her into his arms, feeling her fierce embrace. “I know,” he replied.
It was very, very good to win.