Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Nuff said.
AN: Ok, so at first I put "Everything recent" as spoilers, but stuff has changed. Not really one for off-canon, but not really liking' what I see, (more importantly, it makes my story obsolete). So we'll completely ignore it! Don't worry folks, I'm good at this. So, everyone is pretty much still stuck in Seefra and life sucks, and I'm not letting them out. Because I'm evil. Oh, and sorry 'bout this chapter, taint so swell.
Prin69: Oh… I love you!
Angelii: Sorry to disappoint, but I hope you'll read anyways.
Rhade exited the shower feeling gratefully clean. He threw on a towel on and headed back into the small sleeping quarters he had been provided with. Reaching the bed in the center of the room he fell back, enjoying its softness. He gazed about him, taking in the room. Simple, really; comfortable, if not lavish. A small bedside table at the head of the bed, a vanity and mirror on the right wall, two chairs in the corner next to the door. All bolted down, all in shades of blue and metallic gray. Soothing, but a little dismal, and exactly the same as it was when he had been left here. Four hours ago. At that thought, he grew angry, reliving the scene in his mind.
He followed her down a corridor, her slow cat-like movements making almost no sound. They reached a low grey door and she halted suddenly. She hit a button, deftly avoiding Rhade's stumble. Instead he careened into a wall. He steadied and then righted himself, turning round to her amused look. It pissed him off. But he didn't say anything, just walked through the open door and into the room beyond. She followed.
"Nice. Really quite homey. Very inviting." He shot off sarcastically, as he gestured at the room.
"Sarcasm is not appreciated by my kind. Or any kind, for that matter. It will do." She moved of towards a small door. "The facilities." She said, as she gestured towards it. Then she came up beside him, in her infuriatingly slow and measured gate, and breathed deeply. Distaste swept her face. "I suggest you employ them."
With that she moved off, making for the door while Rhade silently seethed. First he was a liar, and now he stunk. A Stinking Lair. Harper would have loved it. He turned, and made as if to follow, when she called from the other side of the door. "By the way, you are confined to quarters until further notice." And with a whoosh of the door she was gone, and he was stuck in his miserably small room.
He jolted up, anger burning anew. How dare she, how dare she! Did she know who he was? Well, ok, so technically he was a nobody, but that did not matter. He was going to go find her and give her some of his choicest Neitzschean terms. He just had to get out of here first. He got up and strode to the door, catching his reflection as he passed the vanity. He was naked but for the towel. Clothes; he needed clothes. First clothes, then action.
He looked about the room for his bag, wondering where he had put it. Then it hit him, she had been holding it during her little goodbye. Which meant she had his clothes. Which meant he had to go to her to get them. Which meant he had to talk to her…naked. Rhade reddened with an uncharacteristic blush, then slammed his fist into the wall panel. The door slid open. Curious, he hit the panel again, softly this time. The door closed, and the panel light shut off. So, he'd found the doorknob. He smiled, at first pleased at his new discovery, then grimly because he was still naked.
Walking back to the bed, he began to think. From the little he knew of her, he surmised that while she would go out of her way to annoy him, he didn't think she would utterly humiliate him. At least not like this. So, there was probably some sort of substitute. He glanced around, and headed over to the vanity. Sure enough, neatly folded in the top drawer was an entire outfit. He pulled it out, and then sat on the bed, examining each article individually. There was a black shirt with what looked to be an uncomfortably high collar, strangely full black pants, and a long, sleeveless robe sort of thing in red and black. It was light and flowing and rather effeminate. Rhade scowled and then began dressing. Clothes on he struggled to fit the pants legs into his boots, then with a sigh of resignation, he put on the robe. Looking at his reflection, his scowl deepened. He looked like a geisha. An ugly geisha. Oh yes, she was gonna get it.
Rhade stormed out of the room and into the hall. His footsteps echoed along the corridor as he made his way back to the command room. Pausing at the door, he saw she wasn't there and so he went on, peering through the open doors. He found her a few minutes later, contentedly reading a book in what was obviously the mess hall. He set his face and then stalked up to her. Crossing his arms over his chest he cleared his throat. She flipped a page.
She was ignoring him! That, that…. He couldn't think of a word so instead he growled. She glanced up, looked at him and turned back to her book. A few seconds of silence later she closed the cover and said " You are looking well, Mister Rhade. How did you rest?" Rhade simply stared in appalled rage. How could she just pretend that nothing had happened? She had locked him in! He continued to stare, so she sighed and dropped back in her chair. "Well, if you are going to take that attitude…" she muttered. Her expressionless eyes came up to his." I hope you did not mind being confined, Mister Rhade. I thought it best that you were kept stationary until we were underway."
Well, that made sense. He had piloted himself and knew how difficult it could be to have people wandering around a ship they were unfamiliar with. He conceded and released some of his anger.
"So, how long have we been in space?"
Once again she turned to her book, "Actually, we broke atmosphere two hours ago. I just kept you in there because I wanted to."
He just stood there stunned. He was so angry he couldn't say anything. Their eyes met, and just as swiftly as his anger had come upon him it left. Something about those eyes…. It gave him the chills.
She rose gracefully from her seat, walking towards a counter. "Are you hungry?" He shook his head. "Very well. How do you like your new clothing?"
Rhade looked down at himself, again irritated. "I don't, they're ugly. I want my old things back. Now." The last word was more of a growl than an actual word.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible, Mister Rhade."
"Well make it possible." He slammed down into a chair, wincing at the hard steel.
Sighing she turned and walked back to the table. "As I said, that isn't possible." Meeting his angry gaze she continued "Trust me, if you can, when I say that this is for your benefit. You are dressed as a well-off man who is high in my employers favor." She eased back into her seat, leaning back. "You may not like it, but it is very unlikely you will be taken seriously otherwise."
"Interesting character, your employer. He actually likes this stuff?" He gestured towards his clothing.
She shrugged "My employer is a hard man in many aspects, but easily succumbs to outside pressure where such matters are concerned. And speaking of outside pressure," she tossed him a slim file "I thought you like to know a little something about your perspective bride. Little things, you know, like her name."
He looked up at her. He was right, she was laughing at him, albeit silently. "Thanks. But the mocking can stop."
"Do not be a spoil sport, Mister Rhade."
"Hummphu" was his only response as he began to read the files contents. Phoebe, no last name listed. He glanced at her picture. She was pretty enough, dark hair and eyes, full red lips. Very pretty actually, he could see why he had liked her in the first place. A few details were listed, likes and interests, and other such things. He wondered if they would get along, if they would …. The scrape of a chair interrupted his thoughts. He looked up. His host was standing, ready to leave the table. "I will leave you to you study Mister Rhade."
He cringed. "Rhade. Just Rhade, I can't stand that 'Mister' stuff. Rhade is fine."
"If you so wish. I will be on the bridge if you need anything…Rhade." She turned and moved to the door, Rhade returning to the file. Phoebe Rhade, he didn't really like it but oh well, what was in a name anyway? A sudden realization hit him.
"Wait" he called just as she reached the doorway. "I don't know your name. What should I call you?"
A beat and then "Lynx."
"Lynx? That's an interesting name."
Again a pause and her head turned, cold, vicious eyes meeting his startled brown ones. Her lips bore a grim curve "I did not say it was my name. I said it is what you may call me." And with that, she left withdrew, leaving Rhade to mull over this new piece of information.
Ok, here's a little non-story/authors despairing cry for help. I need a few details on little Seefra things, like Neitzschean presence and any other tidbits ya'll smart people think might be relevant or useful. Canon or Fanon, it doesn't matter. I'd really appreciate anything ya'll got! Thanks! – Your Beloved (maybe) Author, Eli