A multi-chapter! Because why not! This is inspired by a few other fics (to name them right now would spoil the show). I am writing the first chapter right now, so I hope to update soon. Pleasepleaseplease, review! Thoughts on this story? Thoughts for other stories you could want me to write? Bits of poetry you've written? I'll take it all. Reviews are the butter to my bread.
And so, yes. The story. Enjoy! Lots of angst in this story, because I need that in my life.
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The moonlight filtered in through the windows, setting the ironworks sparkling, casting the room into a cool shade of melancholy. Precisely opposite to the mood in the room. They were in a dimly lit factory on the outskirts of Kusht, a suburb of the capital Wishta, the skeletal remains of machinery that once built weaponry turning the massive hall into a maze of creaking metal and tall shadows, twisted and bending until one would find themselves walking in circles, never to find their destination. Towards the south-east corner, under a large dome made of spikes thirty meters tall, that is where she met him. Here, there were no straining ears or prying eyes. Which was for the better. One whisper of what they spoke of, if caught, would have them hanged, no doubt. The Federation did not take kindly to their cause.
Leah lay her arm across her chest and bowed her head as she approached. He sat at a small table in the dome's center, splayed across a rickety steel chair as he admired his bejeweled hands. It was an act, Leah knew. Roq was arrogant, but no fool. He seemed open and vulnerable to attack in this moment, yet she knew of the knives in each boot, in his jacket, on his belt. The man was a knife fight asking to happen.
"Is it done?" he asked quietly, smoothly. Leah smiled. He would be very pleased to hear that after months of planning, days of lying in wait, plans drawn and redrawn, coins spent and souls quieted, it had turned out even better than planned.
"Better than done. I have the Captain, and he has no clue to my name or my face." She pulled a necklace from her jacket and hung it around her neck. It was a simple leather chain, and from it hung a small, silver sphere. As it lay cool against her skin, Leah's face rippled and changed, transforming brown eyes to blue, skin from fair to dark, changing her facial structure until the woman standing before Roq remained the same only in long silvery hair, and the way she smiled. She smiled now.
He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Impressive."
Leah took the necklace off and stuffed it back in her jacket pocket. Within seconds, her face was back to its original. "A trader was most kind to give this to me, once I asked the proper way. All it needs is to be within half a meter to my skin without a structure blocking that distance, and I am carved anew to whatever specifications I desire."
Roq laughed. "Tell me, what is the proper way of asking?"
Leah's eyes glinted, not unlike the cold steel walls around them. "With my knife to his husband's throat."
She grinned wide enough for her cheeks to hurt. It was not the violence she loved, but the knowledge that she could strike fear into the hearts of others. That, was a most powerful tool.
"And what of the Captain? How to lower his defenses, allow you to slip it in unnoticed?" he asked.
"A lady should not give away the tricks behind the magic," she replied cheekily.
Roq gave a small smile, then grew serious. "Tell me," he commanded, and in that moment Leah was reminded of Roq's force as the scar on her throat throbbed. A scar well deserved, and given with honour, yet a memory of pain nonetheless. She never did well with pain.
"James Kirk is famed across the galaxies for bedding women left and right without thought," she said coldly. "His reputation proved true, all that was needed were a few words exchanged, and he let me in as a flower allows a bee."
Roq snorted. "Eloquent, milady."
She ignored the mocking. "He will be dead before the forty-sixth moon turn."
Roq reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather pouch. He flung it at her, and when she opened it, she gasped. Inside lay coins and jewels and a tremendous amount of wealth.
"You have done well," he said. Leah glowed and hid a smile. Coming from Roq, it was high praise indeed.
"Great thanks," she said, bowing her head deeply. She turned to go when Roq's voice stopped her dead in her tracks. He spoke with a chill that tempted her to shiver. Roq was never one to speak lightly. Growing up in the world of politics, he knew how to wield words as finely as he did swords. And Leah did not know of a man who could best Roq at blades. He now spoke softly, the words echoing softly across the abandoned factory, like ripples in a pond.
"Do not forget, Leah. If he doesn't die, you will."