A/N: I apologize for the delay everybody! It's been really hectic. Between school, dance auditions and video shoots, it's a madhouse around here. But it's calming down some, so I will try to update as much as possible. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this! As always, please R&R!
Nyota's feet rushed smoothly across the floor, her steps echoing loudly down the empty hall. She pulled her burden close and looked around. Satisfied that she was alone, she continued down the dim concourse, the bond between her and Spock serving as her guide.
She traipsed down a long passageway, glancing back only once before slipping into another area. The area was wider and boasted an anteroom before it. She crept quickly across the floor and was rounding the archway when she felt a blow to her back.
She stumbled and fell forward. Her quick reflexes allowed her to roll away, just in time to avoid a hard kick to the head. She sailed upwards and jumped to her feet. Several people had gathered in the room, they leered and grinned, excitedly tittering as the man before her prepared to attack once more. His rough, stubbled face was filled anger, and his face was marred by a circle of bruised tissue, and his cheek was badly swollen and discolored.
"You, bitch!," he told her his brogue harsh and lilting, "You kicked me in the face when we were planet side! Because of you, I been gettin' hassled. You know what they call me down in engineering? They call me "Ba'kor the Beaten,"
Everyone watching laughed and guffawed, becoming silent when Ba'kor's wrathful stare passed about the room.
Nyota glanced at him and then chuckled and shrugged, "Well, if the shoe fits---,"
He growled and then advanced, "I'll show you beaten. Come and get it bitch,"
With a roar he ran towards her, fists raised. Nyota calmly stepped to the side and rolled, and used his own momentum to deliver a swift punch to the kidneys. He groaned and fell, clutching his side. Nyota strode some feet away and watched as he gathered his strength and stood. His breath came out in heavy spurts as he grabbed a dagger from his side and ran at her once more, slashing the air and howling in anger.
Nyota easily grabbed his wrist, twisted upwards, forcing him to drop his weapon. The dagger clattered to the ground and Nyota maneuvered him smoothly so that he faced away from her, wrenched his arm painfully behind his back and pinned him to the wall.
"I don't have time for this shit," she declared, "If you value your life you'll leave me be,"
She stepped away from him and turned. She grabbed her bag and began making her way to the archway once more. She could feel the change in air pressure, hear his breath coming closer. Before he made an impact she spun, grabbed a low grade implosive device from his belt and maneuvered quicker than his eye could see until she stood behind him. Her arm was locked like an iron vice around his neck and he scratched at her, trying desperately to get air.
"I gave you a warning. I was even being nice. I suppose your life has no value then. So be it," she told him as he gasped and struggled.
She uncapped the device and threw into his open mouth. She forced his lips closed and he squirmed.
"Swallow," she told him harshly and tightened her grip, "Do it!"
After a moment of being deprived of air, he swallowed convulsively and the capsule sailed down into his stomach. Nyota released him and stood back.
He scratched at himself, howling, yelling and convulsing as the device burned yellow and then bright orange within him, melting his organs and turning them inside out. He managed to scream as the device fully imploded. His body hardened, cracked then burned to ash quickly before deteriorating and blowing away with the air currents.
The crew that was watching stood in shock and amazement.
"Does anyone else feel the need to die?," she challenged. Like a defeated wolf pack, the crew backed away, eyes down, bodies submissive.
"I thought so," she confirmed and grabbed her bag and turned away. She strode confidently through the archway and down the hall.
Once she was around the corner, she sighed with relief. This was good. She had sent a message with Ba'kor's death. Word would spread throughout the ship. No other crew member would dare try her now. She adjusted the bag and slipped silently down the passageway to a small door. She punched in an override code and the door swished open.
She walked in slowly, moving through the elegant space to the living area. She could smell Spock's scent as it wafted on the air and touched Nyota's nostrils, causing her heart to thrum with excitement.
She moved to the table in the middle of the floor and opened the bag. She pulled out various containers filled with food and two large flasks filled with water and juice.
"Spock," she called out and he stepped forward into the circle of light, away from the dark shadows in the room.
"Computer, increase light 85%,"
The room was flooded with light and Nyota gasped. Spock looked haggard and tired. His body was drained and deprived from earlier attempts at healing. And no doubt Cerenos conveniently forgot to feed him, Nyota thought bitterly and ran to him.
He flinched then turned away.
"Spock," she began, "What-,"
"I am to be sold," he stated, his tone almost questioning and all at once accusing.
"No, Spock," she said and shook her head vehemently, "That's not---I don't want to--,"
"I am to be sold as if I were—cattle?," he interrupted.
"That's not true Spock. Just listen to me. I have a plan--," she began and crossed the space to stand near him.
He walked a few paces backward, enlarging the space between them. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits and she spun away and then faced him, her body taut with anger.
"If you want to be an idiot about this, then fine!," she told him between clenched teeth.
They stared at each other for a long moment, Nyota's harsh glare searching Spock's impassive gaze.
Spock was the first to turn away, and Nyota felt her anger begin to wane.
"I brought you some food. I know you're hungry."
He shook his head stubbornly, "I am not in need of sustenance."
Nyota rolled her eyes and began assembling an assortment of bread, cheeses, vegetables and fruits atop a plate and placed it upon the table.
"Eat," she commanded, and he threw what passed for a glare before coming to the table to sit. He began eating the fruits and cheeses beneath Nyota's watchful gaze. After a few moments she relaxed into the chair opposite him.
"Spock, I would never give you up as a slave. You know that right?,"
"Do I?," he commented brusquely. "One cannot deign to know the intentions of others. Often such a task is—dubious,"
Nyota rolled her eyes, "Come off it, Spock. We've been through too much together for me to give it all up now. Why would I do something like that? I mean I really do care about you---," she paused, her eyes wide with disbelief, her mind pausing as flurry of emotions ran through her.
Spock stopped eating and looked at her, his expression no longer tinged with anger, but instead, curiosity.
"I—I mean, I do care about what happens to you. We've become--," she paused as if searching for the word, "colleagues, friends of a sort right?"
She could have sworn a flash of disappointment rolled about his face before it smoothed out in calm repose. She berated herself for thinking something so foolish. Of course he wasn't disappointed, she thought, surprised that she felt a bit miffed.
She cleared her throat and continued, "Anyway, as I said, I have a plan. I'm not exactly the best of friends with Cerenos; he's always been a slimy bastard. But he's useful—for the moment."
Spock listened intently as she filled him in on what she planned to do. He leaned forward, and steepled his hands across the table, his eyebrow quirked upwards as he considered her options.
"Your plan is very logical, nearly without flaw; however, do you feel that you can execute it perfectly?"
She smiled coldly, her full lips playing at humor without really expressing it. "Oh, yeah. It's payday and I intend to collect."
He cocked his head to the side and his eyebrow quirked upwards once more, her strange euphemism was at once oddly humorous and fitting.
A slight smile ghosted his lips and a flash of humor ran through her as the walls between them was lifted and their link reestablished. She shivered involuntarily. His presence in her mind filled a void she had never known she had. He remained guarded and hesitant, but she could still feel his trust, compassion and—some other emotion bubbling deep within the surface of his mind. It felt warm and thick, like honeyed bits of affection, but much stronger than mere liking and deeper than friendliness. She prodded the odd emotion for a moment, trying to investigate when the link was pulled taut, and she was forced from the confines of his mind.
"I will aid you in any way that I can," Spock intoned evenly, "We will enter the atmosphere of Centorion-5 in exactly two standard days. You must be ready."
She nodded and stood. "I will bring you more food in a few hours," she told him. She stood still for a moment, as if expecting—something. When he simply nodded back at her, she found herself shuffling disappointedly towards the door. Before she could reach the threshold she felt long fingers grasping her wrist. She turned and stared, mute and rapt as Spock softly placed a kiss against her knuckles and stepped back. She blinked rapidly, trying to think of anything that would break the silence, to stop the flood of emotions threatening to erupt from within her.
Instead, she looked at him a moment, then walked out into the passageway, her mind a flurry of feeling.