Downsides

[Guest Sar'vek t'Jhiin]

(This log does contain some mature themes.)

 

 

A lone Romulan sat upon one of the plush chaises in Tynte's quarters, nonchalantly scrolling through a padd. She was as focused on the information presented as she could be, recent events taken into account, but it provided a dry diversion from the little hell in which she had so nonchalantly been made a part of.

 

Finishing her self-assigned task, she carefully set it on the table, leaning backwards with a sigh. Elements...

He rolled onto his side, his hand searching for his newest toy, but finding only empty bedding. Sighing slightly, he opened his eyes, squinting against even the dim lighting in his quarters. "I hate it when they do that..." he muttered to himself as he pushed himself up onto his elbow. “Sar'vek?"

 

She glanced up, exhaling quietly as she replied. "Yes, Avery. I'm here."

 

His eyes clearing, they focused on the slim, lean form of the Romulan sitting a few meters away. "What are you doing, Nav'iae?"

 

"Nothing. Merely examining some of your reading materials here."

 

He sat up straighter in his bed. "Precisely...which reading materials are you examining?" His voice held a sharper tone now.

 

"Medical documents regarding the virus you're studying." She motioned to them as she stood, walking towards the replication unit.

 

He stood, pulling his uniform on quickly. "And who told you that you could simply delve into my files?"

 

Shrugging, she brushed her hand over the controls. "You were asleep. I assumed you would not want me to wake you, so I did not ask permission."

 

He came up behind her, his hand finding her hip, his nose gently brushing against her neck. "Do not assume anything, Tempest." His hand moved to her neck, where his nose had been only moments before. His gentle touched turned to a firm grip around her throat. "Always ask permission." The threat in his voice as evident as his grip on her neck.

 

Pulling at his grasp, she nodded slightly, trembling. "As you wish," she said, quietly.

 

He released his grip, his hand moving to her cheek, brushing gently across its supple surface. "Do not tremble, e'lev. I wish you no harm, you simply must learn your place..." He smiled at her. She would learn...this lump of clay would soon be a beautiful statue...his hand moved down her neck and hip, tracing her figure. Her body already suited that statue...only the personality needed...adjustment....

 

"I understand, my master," she whispered, lowering her eyes subordinately. "Would you care for something to eat?"

 

He moved off to sit at the small table she had sat at. "Perhaps coffee, nothing to eat." He picked up the PADD she had been scrutinizing. His brow furrowed as he scrolled along its display. "What have you done to it?"

 

"Done? To what?" she asked innocently as she pulled up the most recent coffee requests he had made, re-replicating the most common one.

 

“This." he tossed the PADD at her. "You've ruined my work." He did not raise his voice; he simply looked at her. How dare she? How dare she lay her dirty Rihan hands on his work? His voice held none of the fiery rage swirling in his mind.

 

She smiled, the image of angelic innocence. "The errors were so glaring they were offensive to my eyes. My apologies for correcting your carelessness." Offering him the mug, she blinked a few times coquettishly.

 

She hit the floor beside the mug, its contents flying out across the floor. Her cheek burned fiery hot from the impact of his hand. He was on top of her within moment, his hand pinching her cheeks, adding to the tingling pain already present in her face. "I warned you about the pointed tongue, Tempest." His face was mere inches from hers, his breath hot on her eyes as they watered. From the pain, or from the fear? He was not sure, and really did not care. "That is strike two, e'lev." He pushed her head back against the deck hard. Then standing he moved towards the replicator.

 

Carefully pulling herself back to a kneeling posture, she looked across at him with a burning hatred. "Would au prefer dishonesty, my captor?" she asked, wiping the mist from her eyes.

 

"I would prefer, tact." He spit the word at her as if speaking to something that did not even deserve his attention, much less his breath. "Your insubordination when speaking to me tries my patience." He turned, taking a sip from the mug he had replicated to replace the one she had forced him to spill.

 

Smirking slightly, she rubbed her cooling cheek. "Have you ever been in command of a vessel, Avery?" Of course he hadn't. He was a doctor, not a command-track officer.

 

He sat back down, eying her over his mug. "At present, no." he placed the mug down on the table. "Why do you ask?

 

Smiling fully now, her eyes picked up an evil glint. "I have. Taking that into account, I believe that I'm more familiar with the tenets of insubordination than you are." The slave stood from the floor, taking a seat opposite him. "I'd simply call this putting an unruly officer in error in his place."

 

His eyes flickered from his mug to her. "Do you value your life, Sar'vek?"

 

"Not particularly, at the moment."

 

He smirked. "Look around yourself, my pet. Does this look like a Romulan vessel to you?" He spread his hands to emphasize his point. "Look at yourself, is that a Romulan uniform you wear?" He leaned in, his voice taking on a menacing quality. "I do not care what you were in your past life; that no longer matters. I am in control here, Sar'vek. You are allowed to move freely in this room because I allow you to. You are allowed to breathe because I allow you to remain alive." His hand traced along her breast, feeling her lungs as they took in air. "You are allowed to speak," he paused, moving his fingertips to her lips. "because I allow you to keep your tongue." He brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "This is my world, you are simply allowed to be in it. You would do well to learn this." He removed his hand from her face and took another sip from his steaming mug.

 

Her jaw clenching, she stared straight ahead, unwilling to meet his gaze. "Forgive me if I'm not groveling enough from being overjoyed at my beautiful new world. I forget how incredibly privileged I truly am."

 

He did not look at her, he simply picked up a PADD and began thumbing through its contents. "I will forgive your oversight this time." He ignored the snark in her voice, not giving her the satisfaction of a rise. "And you are privileged, Sar'vek. You truly are. Most of your kind we capture are either simply executed or sent to work in the labor camps." He smiled and reached out, caressing her hand, still not looking at her. "I felt it was a shame to waste such beauty." Looking up he drew her hand to his lips, kissing it gently as he continued. "Do not make me regret my generosity."

 

She pulled her hand away as gently as he stroked it. "I doubt that you would after last night," she reminded him, quietly.

 

He allowed a thin, twisted smile to cross his lips. "Do not grow arrogant in that fact that I enjoy your...company, Sar'vek." His eyes danced up to meet hers. "I assure you I can find another slave; I already have one reserve."

 

She let out a little unhappy laugh, dismissing the notion. "And how you must adore her. She who would barely be able to read your work, much less alter it..."

 

"She has her talents." His eyes shifted, no longer concerned with work, his mind wandering to other things.

 

"I can imagine." She smiled, studying his eyes. "However can I compete with a greenskin?"

 

He leaned over the table, moving his hand to pull her face towards her. "The jury is still out..." he said as their lips met.

 

She slid from her lounge to the table, wrapping her arms around his neck seductively. "I do hate unresolved issues," she commented.

 

He spun on top of her, balancing on the table. His hand gently slid across a control on the side of the table; the lights faded to black as the dance began again.