Rochelle's Story

[Rochelle Riker 0]

Rochelle's Story: Autobiography of a Survivor

SD 10305.07

 

FAIR WARNING: Adult content, scantily clad in innuendo and word play. This log is not critical for furthering the action of the story--read only for your own interest, and at your own risk. (Comments always welcome.)

 

"You think I don't know what it's like? You think I don't know exactly what you're going through?" She laughed humorlessly. "You, my little cousin, are once again confusing empathy and compassion. I have enough of one to know how futile the other is. Has it ever occurred to you to wonder how I know so much about the slave trade? You could say, I was apprenticed. I learned the business inside out, from the inside."

 

The look of surprise on Samantha's face, and the compassion the poor fool seemed unable to contain, resounded in Rochelle's gut. For reasons she didn't take the time to question, Rochelle put aside thoughts of the evacuation and the two unconscious bodies at their feet, and decided to answer Samantha's unspoken question. And she told Samantha her story.

 

You may find this hard to believe, but the fact that you and I look appear to be identical is actually just a fluke, a big joke played by the universe on us both. If we were to measure along the time continuum in which you've lived, my existence wouldn't be possible. Time moves differently in different dimensions, though. Thus it is that my chronological age is three years more than yours, currently--and before you ask, no, I can't even begin to explain how or why. Should you have occasion to meet him again, you might pose the question to Zar Alces. It would at least be entertaining to watch him work on the answer.

 

You knew about my father's existence. Well, he never got over the fact of your father's existence. You had heard, I think, about his arrest by the Cardassians?

 

It was no coincidence that the Cardassians came for my father at the same time that my mother took up with Jacqualier. Jacq promised Deandra that he could give her the life of luxury that she had finally, bitterly, realized Thomas Riker would never be able to provide. So she betrayed my father, and as a reward, Jacqualier brought her into the 'family business.'

 

I'm not sure what it was that initially attracted them to each other, or that kept them together. It's certainly not possible that anything resembling what you would call 'love' could have been involved. But Jacq did claim that he loved her, for her beauty and for the ruthless brilliance of her mind. He never told my mother that he 'loved' me, too.

 

I was so stupid. I was ten years old; I'd just seen my father dragged away by the Cardassians, I felt like my life was falling apart. So when Jacq pulled me onto his lap, to comfort me, and he held me, and said he'd always wanted to have a little girl--

 

Of course, loving my mother didn't lessen the business's need for capital. And Deandra, a woman of extremely modest means, had no liquid assets. But she had something even better than that--she had a beautiful little girl, just on the brink of womanhood.

 

The lure of an 11-yr-old virgin brings in an awful lot of money from those so inclined. Jacq decided he couldn't afford to keep me off the market, but he wasn't ready for that big one-time sale. So for the first two years he sold me, he sent a guard with me every time I went to a client, to make sure no one took advantage of his largess. During that two years, I built up quite a following. The forbidden has always had its own kind of fascination. They could have me--but not entirely. "Exquisite agony," one of them called it. He said the next best thing to relieving his frustration was being able to take it out on me.

 

Of course, Jacq couldn't keep them waiting forever. And once he'd created such a stir, designed such a fantastic build-up, how could he choose one buyer, settle on the one price that would take the prize?

 

So instead, he sold me in an auction. It was quite an event, as I remember. My mother had a beautiful red gown, and she'd personally supervised my preparation all day long. My hair was down, and shining, in lush auburn waves with little curls around my face. I wore only the barest hint of make-up, and my dress was designed to look like an old-fashioned Earth wedding gown, simple but elegant, and pure, snowy, virginal white.

 

Jacqualier served champagne, and delicacies from dozens of worlds. The strongest emotion in the room, apart of my own terror, of course, was my suitors' boorish pride. And at the end of the evening, I ended up being sold for 500 bars of latinum.

 

Stupid male pride. He was too young to realize that he was grossly overpaying, especially for someone as utterly inexperienced as I was--inexperienced, and trying desperately to appear disinterested. I do remember feeling some small satisfaction that in the final count, he had paid about 100 bars of latinum per second that the entire encounter lasted.

 

I remember that, It, hurt, but that I barely noticed. By this time I'd had two years to practice disassociating myself from my reality, sending my mind away, stepping aside from the pain. Being forced to... add to my repertoire with my clients was more of an inconvenience than anything, because the preparation between clients became more... involved.

 

Eventually Nei'llazao, the one who bought me that first time, decided that he loved me. It was ridiculous, of course, but he was young, and his father was stupid enough to give him free access to the family's assets. Of course, Jacq always made Nei'llazao pay highly for me; he made everyone pay highly for me, simply because he could. It became a point of pride with my step-father that he not accept less than a certain figure to allow someone the privilege of time alone with his 'best girl.'

 

One day I worked up the nerve to ask Nei'll to give me money, on the side. He knew that I never saw any of the latinum he paid Jacq, and it amused him, made him feel powerful and generous, to leave coins, tokens, little remembrances with me. If Jacq had suspected that I was holding out on him, he would have had me killed, or at least disfigured, main attraction or not. But it was Nei'll's money that eventually bought my freedom.

 

I saved for a long time. I tried to escape twice before I succeeded; both times, I was brought back, and both times, Cabazon--who was the Compound Master even then--punished me. The second time he beat me until I lost consciousness. But he never told Jacq that I had tried to escape. And I didn't give up I waited, and finally my time came. That's an Earth expression, isn't it? "Third time's a charm." That time I had enough money to buy the help of two guards, so I made it out of the compound. And then--.

 

Altogether, they sold me for just over four years, until my mother and 'step-father' died in an... unfortunate accident. Jacqualier was the sole survivor of his family, and the sole owner of the entire organization. When I asserted myself as the new owner after he and Deandra died, no one dared to dispute my claim of ownership.

 

And then I rescued my father, and then this and that, and now here we are. And I'm ashamed to think about how much time I've just wasted on this banal melodrama. But now you have a nice little story to contribute, the next time you're at a big family gathering, and everyone's reminiscing about the family legacy.

 

Yes, I know you still have unanswered questions--some big ones, hmm? But storytime's over. Now it's time for recreation. And you and I are going to take a few laps around your universe.

 

Rochelle Riker

Second-in-Command

on the planet beneath the orbit of the independent vessel Blue Note