Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Six

Irresistible Force, Movable Object

T'Pol

Even slaves are required to keep themselves physically fit for service in Starfleet, and a separate section of the gymnasium is delineated for our use. The equipment there is old and worn, and I understand that under previous commanders it was allowed to fall into a sometimes dangerous state of disrepair, but Commodore Tucker's 'new broom' has swept even into this disregarded corner of the station. However shabby the pieces may be, they are serviced regularly and kept every bit as safe as those in the standard section, so I have no hesitation in choosing to use them. My only debate is which one to begin with.

After I carry out the appropriate warm-up exercises, I move to the Olympic rings. With a minimum of swing, I hoist myself up and execute several muscle-ups. I understand that for Humans and a number of other humanoid species these are difficult, but my Vulcan physique makes them relatively easy. Nevertheless, I rarely make an exhibition of my strength; however favored I may be by the commodore at present, it is never wise for an inferior to display the fact that they are superior to their 'masters' in any way. If there were others present I would use one of the less demanding pieces of equipment instead, and carefully conceal my real abilities on it. Still, I am an early riser, and one of the benefits of this is that most of the crew prefer to exercise in the evening. On most mornings I can reasonably hope for at least some solitary time in here.

Nevertheless, I quite soon become aware that I am not unobserved. Without betraying my awareness of that fact, I execute a neatly controlled drop from the rings and move to the elliptical trainers; whoever is watching me, I have no right to resent it, and therefore my best policy is to simply ignore it.

But I cannot ignore the presence of Admiral Erika Hernandez when she chooses to make me aware of it. And she does so within a couple of minutes, strolling into my field of vision; at which point – scorning to feign a start of surprise at her arrival – I come to a standstill and execute the appropriate salute, waiting to know what she wants from me. It would be wholly inappropriate for me to be the first to speak.

At first she simply seems to want to look at me, which she does with the objective candor of a purchaser considering buying an animal in the marketplace. I doubt if it even crosses her mind that I might feel any indignity in this examination, but I am accustomed enough to it that I simply shut myself off from the awareness of it. It is at times like these that I am deeply grateful for my people's mental discipline.

She has shown a passing interest in me before, so I would not be entirely surprised if her presence now took a sexual turn. For all that I am the commodore's personal property, she outranks him, and if she were to demand my services it would be dangerous for him to deny her. Maybe this has already happened, and she has simply come to collect me.

But she does not touch me. After studying my body, she transfers her attention to my face. I keep my gaze firmly fixed on the parallel bars at the other side of the gymnasium.

"Do you find your service with Commodore Tucker enjoyable?" she asks at last, her tone no more than casually curious.

"It is … congenial enough, Ma'am," I reply cautiously. It would do Trip no good at all to have his superior know that by comparison to that of most slaves my lot is positively delightful, especially now that he and I have reached what I would describe as an agreeable understanding.

"You find him a good master."

"Yes, Admiral. Though a firm one, of course."

At the word 'firm' my peripheral vision registers the smallest hint of smirk crossing the admiral's mouth. "Of course," she agrees. "Very firm."

I recollect the state in which Trip returned to his quarters after a night with this woman, and it takes all my self-control to remain still and externally unmoved. Although gossip regarding our betters is severely frowned on in the Empire, many do not really understand how acute Vulcan hearing can be. I have overheard fragments of whispered conversation that provided considerable illumination on the subject of Hernandez's … proclivities in the bedroom. Some of her less elevated bedmates have not survived the honor.

At a guess, she does not know that I was a witness to my master's condition afterwards, or (more likely) she thinks that I rejoiced in it. After all, why should a slave care that her master received a sample of what she has had to endure from him and others, not once but many times?

"I just thought it might be worthwhile to drop a word in your ear," she continues smoothly. "Obviously there's nothing that can be done about your slave status, because that's what the Empress has decreed all non-Humans are. But there are … degrees of slavery. We all have options. Even slaves."

I dart a glance at her, one she does not pretend to misinterpret. She nods, and walks away, leaving me to ponder.

=/\=

After some deliberation, I decide to report the incident to Trip that evening when we are in bed together. He scowls thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"There have been previous occasions when she has indicated her interest in me," I add. "So far, she has behaved with restraint, but I believe her intentions are ultimately predatory."

He snorts. "You can believe that alright," he agrees bitterly. "Look, I … as things stand, I can't protect you, however much I want to. Just do your best to keep out of sight. The bitch will be out of here tonight, an' hopefully it'll be 'out of sight, out of mind'."

It is clear that his inability to protect me is deeply troubling to him, and his concern touches me. "Vulcans are physically very resilient," I remind him. "You need have no worries regarding my survival."

He rolls over to face me. "T'Pol, there's more to how I feel for you than just worryin' if you're able to survive somethin'." His fingers run lightly over my face. "I want to believe there's some way I can get you out of danger altogether.

"Look, how 'bout if we say Malcolm got in there first, an' took you on a loan? She couldn't very well snatch you out of his quarters."

"I do not believe that Lieutenant Cutler would approve of that arrangement," I say eventually.

"If you're sayin' that Hernandez would even hallucinate that Reed would care a rat's ass about what Liz approves of when it comes to borrowin' a slave for a bit of variety, then you seriously need to update what you think you know about Erika."

I should not ask, but my tongue takes on a life of its own. "Would you give a 'rat's ass' if he did?"

He surveys me thoughtfully. "Well, he's my superior officer, so I couldn't say no. Matter of fact, I'm sort of surprised he hasn't … you or anyone else, once he started getting back into condition. But if you want the truth, no, I wouldn't be happy about it."

"You could issue an 'invitation' to Lieutenant Cutler on your own account."

"I could, if I was that sort of bastard, which I'm not. An' if I didn't prefer my balls left attached, which I do." He slips an arm around my waist. "Am I hearin' a little bit of jealousy here?"

I remind him primly that Vulcans do not 'do' jealousy, and he grins. "Maybe they don't, Chuckles, but generals by the name of Reed definitely do. An' whatever his rank allows him to do, mine definitely does not give me the freedom to poach in his preserves just because I'm pissed off with him borrowin' my property. Leave alone what Liz would find to say about it, an' I'm guessin' the first five words would just about put an end to any inclinations I might have to start with."

"She seemed to have few objections on previous occasions."

"Yeah. On previous occasions when the whole point of the exercise was passin' information without gettin' ourselves arrested." He gives me a little shake. "Look, T'Pol. Whatever her reasons may be, an' God help me I've wondered often enough before now what she ever saw in him, Liz Cutler does not look twice at any man who isn't Malcolm Reed. Sure, we shared a bed. Sure, we touched each other. You show me any way to put on a show for surveillance cameras without doin' somethin' that constitutes sexual contact, an' I'll be a wiser man than I am now. But I'll tell you now, I was never under any illusions that in her heart of hearts she didn't wish she was pleasurin' another man than me, that it wasn't Malcolm who was touchin' her.

"I don't know why he's suddenly found out what she is, or why it seems like he's decided to be mostly faithful to her rather than goin' back to his old tricks, but I thank God for it, because I reckon she's been hurt enough for one lifetime. An' because I'm not a heartless bastard, even if it was safe to I wouldn't even think about gettin' payback by orderin' Liz into my bed. So you can put that idea out an airlock an' forget about it."

"I do not believe the danger from Admiral Hernandez is immediate," I concede. "If the Revenge is leaving this evening, she will undoubtedly have more on her mind than any attraction she may feel for me."

"I think we can bank on that. Fortunately for me, right now I don't have much else to think about. An' with you bein' so conveniently available…" He rolls on top of me, and I open for him gladly.

And push to the back of my mind the picture of Admiral Hernandez's assessing gaze and the possibility that my only refuge from it may be to become the temporary property of General Reed – who, notwithstanding his current good behavior and domestic harmony, may discover that temptation very difficult to resist.

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