I own nothing of the Star Trek world. Please review!
….
"I must confess that you are my favorite to date. Your skin is so soft. I was rather surprised by that fact." She caressed his face the same time as her silk night gown. "Your eyes still hold that bright gaze. After a while most lose that glossy glow in them. They are my favorite color, that's perhaps why I chose you. That's why I wore this silk night gown. It's the same color as your eyes."
The sound of footsteps entering her room took her from her reverie and she got out of bed to greet her quests.
'Good they found me. Time for mama to play.'
A Vorta entered the room flanked by two Jemhadar. She never spoke but waited for the Vorta to speak first.
'Speak Vorta; I want to hear your voice first.'
The Vorta was sizing her up and looked at the room. Everything was in order and to his knowledge from what he read about Human standards she had 'good taste'.
'Watching my reaction Vorta? See any fear? See any hate? Study me all you want. You like my eyes don't you as they should tell you so much about me.'
For about ten minutes the woman and the Vorta stared at each other, analyzing each other's reactions or lack thereof. She never flinched when the Vorta walked around her so close that she could smell the faint smell of his hair and breath.
He stopped a few inches in front of her smelling her pheromones and basic body chemistry and could not sense any fear in her or arousal. Fascination filled his eyes but still he never said a word. He lifted a hand to her face and moved it side to side and she moved in closer to him and tried to kiss the palm of his hand.
Instantly he removed his hand and stepped back as he believed that she mistook his actions of that of foreplay.
She rolled her eyes and sat down in a nearby chair daring him to stop her. The JemHadar took that as a sign of aggression and stepped forward. A warning hand gesture from the Vorta eased their motions and they returned to their state of deadly statues. A huge smile formed on her face as she crossed her legs and the long slit of her gown opened, revealing her legs. He took little notice of the gesture and looked around the room but he knew that he didn't know enough about Human customs to judge anything.
'Come now Vorta, I know you want to talk. It's in your very nature to talk, calm people down to lead them to the slaughter.'
He went to the computer console and tried to access the files only to find that they have all been expertly blocked. It would take a great deal of time to break through to get to the files. This was expert if not diplomatic security that was being used with her records.
'Who is this woman?' The Vorta made an attempt to access the files one more time but was turned away when a message came up that he didn't understand. It was in a language that he was not familiar with and the format of controls had altered. He had no idea what was on the screen.
He turned when he heard her feet gently pound against the floor in jest while mimicking the look of a clapping child. It was irritating for she didn't stop and mimicked him and silently mocked laughed at him in the chair.
This game was no longer funny and it had to end now. He walked up to her and smacked her dead across the face. She looked up, blood seeping from her busted lip and licked it cleaned. That was followed by a loud swallow and a smile.
Forget what he was ordered to do he had to get her to talk.
'You need to talk first. That's the rule and I will not break that rule.'
Something caught his attention and he turned his head to the right. The bed was disheveled and he was sure that she was speaking to someone just before he entered with his men. In a few strides he was standing next to the bed and pulled the bed sheets back.
"What the…?"
"He's my favorite. I love the color of his eyes. You have no idea how wonderful it was to find him. Do you want to hear his voice? I listen to it all the time."
Her voice filled the air with a subtle emotion, calm and languid.
The Vorta turned around with a worried look on his face. There were a few lines of curiosity that marred his features colored with a hint of fear. "Get this woman into a holding cell. I am not able to interrogate her as I don't know the Human mind that well. I know who does."
"You would have made another copy. I just wanted one and he's perfect."
The JemHadar lifted her from her seat. She never resisted their bruising hold as she turned her head to speak with the Vorta. "It's alright you can take him now. I can get another."
Her voice was sincere and so very calm. Most taken by JemHadar winced in fear, begged or held a false confidence. She was genuinely happy to speak with him and for him to discover her secret.
He looked down at the bed one last time and pondered what a Human female would want with a severed Vorta head in bed. From time to time he heard of strange mating rituals but this surpassed any that he knew in forms of the macabre and he was grateful to the Founders for him being a clone.
It wasn't the fact there was a severed head but that the face was altered to remain in a permanent smile, open eyes and was positioned to face her when she lied down.
He breathed in deeply and smelled something in the air that didn't seem to fit in with living quarters. It was the smell of a lab or a medical facility yet it gently lingered in the air. Further inspection led him to a large wooden closet and he opened the large heavy doors revealing the source of the smell.
Twenty-five heads were sealed in anti-decomposition cases. "What in the name of the Founders…"
Each head was that of a male and all of them held the same look on their face as the one on the bed.
…..
Tara Skythe was asked to strip and place a new set of clothes on. She did this and sat obediently where she was instructed to and waited.
'This is the house that Jack built. This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the cat that killed the rat that ate the malt that…"
Her thoughts were altered when the doors to the room opened and a Vorta entered to interrogate her. He was older looking than the previous Vorta that entered her quarters. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment then squinted while inspecting her actions. The report he read stated that she didn't speak until the Vorta who found her spoke first.
"My name is Weyoun. I read the report about you Tara Skythe and I find you rather fascinating." He approached her then slowly walked around her, observing every nuance of her while talking.
"I find you fascinating as well. You are what are called a Vorta. I love the name of your race as it slides of the tongue so easily."
He smiled at her boldness. There simply wasn't an ounce of fear in her nor was there any arrogance. His knowledge of Humans was vast to date as he thought himself an expert their culture. "You don't fear me."
"Should I fear you? Have you done something to be that would induce fear in me? Do you intend to?"
Weyoun listened to the tones in her voice, the inflection of each syllable. It would be preferable if he were able to understand her language then he would have the ability to truly take apart her words. "Of course I haven't I would never give you reason to fear me."
'I see you are studying me Human. There really is no point, I love these games.'
"But you want me to fear you Weyoun." She looked directly into his eyes and smiled. "You want to understand me. That's why I am not in a holding cell being tortured for the murder of the one called Torrail." Her voice relished the sound of the words.
"So you admit to the murder of a loyal Dominion servant." He was playing now, stating the obvious with a slight smile on his face.
Her face held a genuinely confused look. "He's not dead. How can a dead man stare at me as I sleep? He's not dead."
Weyoun's smile faded when he realized that she was serious. There was no hint of a lie in her voice. "Then how is it he is no longer moving?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about. He was in bed with me when that Vorta officer came with the JemHadar. Ask him, he'll tell you that he saw Torrail."
'So this was Human insanity.'
He decided to play along with her delusions to get some much needed information. "Is Galith Po'Ang still alive?"
Tara thought for a moment as if that name sounded familiar for some reason then she remembered. "No, he is very much dead."
"And how do you know this?" Weyoun stood in front of her only a few feet away. By now he would get closer to the person he would interrogate but he had the feeling that would not be wise in this case.
She looked at Weyoun as if he had three heads. "I took his head. That's the only way I could keep him alive for a little longer."
"That would mean that Torrail is also dead."
"No, Vorta are immortal. Can I speak to Torrail? I know you have another one. It would be really nice to hear his voice again. He was my favorite, knew exactly what I needed to hear." Her voice went dreamy again.
"I think that's enough for today." Weyoun walked from the room leaving the seriously disturbed female to herself.
Tara smiled to herself thinking of a new face. "I love those eyes."
'This is the house that Jack built. This is the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the rat that ate the malt that lay in the house that Jack built. This is the cat that killed the rat that ate the malt that…"
…..
**AN** The poem that was thought out by Tara was a rhyme I was told as a child. It's a British nursery rhyme called 'This is the house that Jack built.'