Chapter 6
Damoth paced in his small room. It was little larger than a prison cell, with a bed, desk, chair, and adjacent bathroom. There had been more space in the pleasure barge, even crammed full of rescued slaves. A few of those slaves now joined him, sat on his bed, and were as dissatisfied with events as he was.
They all knew that Damoth had not been a slave in the same way that they had, but he had proven himself to be on their side more than once. As a bodyguard to a Syndicate Mistress, he was paid for his services, but that is where the distinction ended. Money alone was never enough to ensure loyalty, so high-ranking women in the Syndicate relied on pheromonal manipulation. Security was not the only purpose he fulfilled either.
He had always resented being under someone else's control, and, in his opinion, little had changed. First, Vyla had taken charge of them; issuing commands like a born mistress, insisting they go on their crusade of liberation. If Damoth had had his way, they would have taken their stolen vessel and ran, and any other slaves could go to the Dark Place for all he cared. He had no desire to risk getting killed or captured by the Syndicate.
Vyla's escapades had crippled their ship, forcing them to now rely on the "mercy" of these Humans. Their hosts had proven almost as controlling as their former masters; subjecting them to medical examination, herding them into these quarters, isolating them from the rest of the base. This freedom Vyla had promised was taking too long for Damoth, and he had related as much to the others with him.
"At least they gave us good food, clothes, somewhere nice to sleep," said Jaffu. He was older than most of them, with manic eyes, unkempt hair and a gangly build. He had mainly been tasked with cleaning and other lowly purposes before being freed. "If these Humans are dumb enough to give stuff away for nothing, I say we take it!" He laughed unnervingly.
"We are not all so desperate," Damoth barked, halting in his pacing. "I don't care what Vyla says; we can't rely on anyone else." There were a few nods from the others.
"Aw, I'm sick of running," said Jaffu. "Can't we just wait and see what the Humans want to do with us?" Some of the others, less enthusiastically, indicated agreement.
"Do you really want to find out what that is?" said another voice.
Everyone turned to see Piras at the door. Damoth had not even heard it open, but he recognised Piras as the girl they had rescued recently, who had a habit of suddenly appearing as if from nowhere, with only her dark red hair making her stand out. Unlike most of the others, she had apparently chosen not to avail herself of the clothing the Humans had offered, remaining in the metallic bikini and silks she had worn as a slave. Damoth himself had also defiantly chosen to display as much flesh as possible, unclad from the waist up.
Piras stalked further into the room, the door closing behind her, until she stood beside Damoth, looking up at his looming figure. "I heard about what happened with you and that security officer, Damoth. What if that's what they're all like? I don't want to be a slave to anyone again."
"She's right," said Damoth, turning to the others in the room. "Orions are treated like the galaxy's playthings, but we can be free of that!"
"What can we do?" Piras said, gazing up at him with wide eyes. "We're all stuck in here. And the Humans are so clever, they're so sneaky in how they control us. Unless… Unless we do like you did, stand up to them, make things as difficult for them as possible."
Damoth nodded, placing a heavy hand on her tiny shoulder. "That's exactly what we should do, kid!" Turning back to the others, he said, "Don't let them push you around; get tough with them if need be. Tell everyone you can to do the same.
"We're through being slaves, we're the masters now!"
As the others chattered positively amongst themselves, Damoth looked down to see Piras grinning with an unexpected maturity.
I'm just going to update him, then leave, North repeated to himself in his head.
He made his way down the corridor to Ambassador Mamao'lani's quarters, walking with purpose but also taking his time. The dinner with Vyla had gone quite well and, as promised, North had ordered that the refugees would be allowed onto the rest of the base from tomorrow morning. He had decided, with mild excitement, to inform Mamao'lani of this development.
It had not escaped his notice that, during the dinner, he had felt an unexpected pang of jealousy when Vyla had gotten close to the ambassador. Probably just a leftover effect from the aphrodisiac pheromones, he had concluded. Vyla's pheromones alone wouldn't have had much of an impact, so it must be from when he encountered the large, concentrated group of Orions. That was it.
I'm just going to update him, then leave.
He pressed Mamao'lani's door chime, then awkwardly shuffled on his feet.
I'm just going to update him, then leave.
Mamao'lani answered, his eyes widening in surprise and a smile spreading across his face. He wore a dark purple cloth bathrobe, as it was now quite late, and his hair hung loose around his broad shoulders.
"Commodore!" he said loudly. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in."
Just update him, then leave.
"Thank you," North found himself saying, making his way in.
Mamao'lani's quarters, although spacious, were quite cluttered. Papers, padds, and old-fashioned books covered various surfaces, and the outfit he had worn to dinner was hung haphazardly over a chair. The walls displayed bright abstract art that reflected the ambassador's Hawaiian heritage, as well as a few items that North recognised as non-Human in origin.
"I hope I'm not, ah, disturbing you," North said.
"Not at all, not at all," said Mamao'lani, hurriedly clearing space on the couch. "I was just going over some proposals for the Orions' asylum." He patted the now tidy couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Wine?"
North, surprising himself again, took the proffered seat and waved a hand dismissively. "No, thank you, Ambassador. I, uh, actually just stopped by to update you on the Orions."
"Oh?" Mamao'lani sounded concerned as he sat himself on the couch next to North. "Everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," said North, smiling. "As of tomorrow, I'm allowing them onto the rest of the base. Uh, excluding restricted areas, of course." He had actually issued his orders to Vaughn, who would inform the department heads himself, but he imagined that Patel would have more to say on the subject.
Mamao'lani, ignorant of North's personnel conflicts, beamed. "Ah, wonderful! Vyla will be pleased."
North felt another stab of incongruous jealousy when Mamao'lani mentioned Vyla, but then his mind wandered to the Orion woman, noting that he felt no animosity, justified or otherwise, towards her.
"She's some woman," said North.
"That she is, that she is," Mamao'lani said with a chuckle. He leaned over to lightly tap North's shoulder, making the other man tense up and sharply inhale.
"You know," the ambassador continued, "I'm not normally inclined towards what they used to call 'the fairer sex,' but that Vyla is pretty stunning." He smirked cheekily.
North returned a more subdued smirk. "I'd, ah, have to agree with you there. Probably just the pheromones, eh?"
"Well Vyla and the others wouldn't be so potent, but I guess our… bodies just aren't prepared for the initial burst of chemicals, low-level or otherwise. Takes some getting used to."
North sighed. "Yes, quite."
"Curious though, isn't it?" Mamao'lani said, absently stroking his hair. "How their society is structured around those pheromones."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, those with stronger pheromones - mainly women - seem to be in higher positions, while those whose pheromones are weaker, or non-existent, are subservient. Probably something to do with evolution; the more 'attractive' members getting ahead. Not entirely unlike most other societies then." Mamao'lani laughed.
North smiled and couldn't help staring at Mamao'lani. His features were weathered but pleasant, and, although a big man, he carried his weight well. He was no doubt quite burly in his youth.
North suddenly felt his face turn from pale to flushed as he caught his train of thought. He stood up abruptly, albeit with some discomfort.
"I, uh, better get going."
Mamao'lani looked up at him with disappointment. "Something wrong?"
North awkwardly made his way to the door. "No, no, just, um… Better get an early night. Lots to do in the morning. Goodnight, Ambassador."
Mamao'lani stood and nodded. "Yes, I suppose I better get some rest too. Goodnight, Commodore."
Once back out in the corridor, North mentally shook himself. These damn pheromones were making him think all sorts. He hoped his officers would not be so easily swayed.