Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.
Chapter 7
Arch allowed me a reprieve from my usual duties in order to heal. I lounged in bed the following days, my body racked with pain. I continued to read, the damage to my flesh allowing me to do aught else. Arch treated me well and sat with me at times while I watched his selection of vids. More often than not, though, he left me to my own devices, occasionally treating my healing wounds with a dose of medigel. I found his touch awkward and irritating and lied about my pain so as not to endure his attentions. I would be scarred, but it mattered little to me at the time.
I was slowly driven to distraction after finishing the last of my books, hungry for more knowledge and loathing its absence. Arch surprised me one day with a new gadget, a custom omni-tool he had designed especially for me. I was hesitant at first and still questioned his motives. I knew it was to make up for the beating I had endured, but I forced a sweet smile and accepted it nonetheless. It would be a useful tool for feeding my addiction to the written word.
My attempts were awkward at first, the new device foreign and unfamiliar to me. I had only read about omni-tools and had occasion to witness Arch use his, although I never understood the inner workings of the minute instrument, and I muddled through the instructions with difficulty. It took me some time to get acquainted with the feel of it on my hand, the holographic projection alien on my arm. I was tempted to set it aside permanently after a particularly trying day, but given my lack of entertainment, I retained my resolve. I would master the evil device and make it my own.
It was a day when my back throbbed that I experienced a technological revelation. Arch was out, presumably working to increase his fortunes, and I found myself in desperate need of distraction. I slipped the 'tool in place and activated it, the orange glow illuminating my arm. I glared at the holograph, willing it to cooperate with my desires, and began my search. It turned up very little.
For over an hour I braved the extranet, searching for navigation information, online protocols, anything that would allow me to work unhindered, but I found many of the sites blocked. Frustrated, I swallowed my pride and opened the help menu.
A list of techno-babble scrolled down the display and I struggled to keep up. Luck was on my side, however, as I paused the feed just in time to select the troubleshooting guide. A blessedly comprehensive list of common problems and solutions appeared onscreen, and I drank in the knowledge with relief. According to the data, my frustrations were due only partly to my incompetence as parental controls were commonly installed by my omni-tool's manufacturer. Following the directions on the display, I promptly disabled them and watched as the galaxy finally opened up to me.
With the majority of the blocks removed I soaked up the information I found on the extranet, filing away the bits of knowledge with potential for future use. I regularly browsed a number of sites, familiarizing myself with online forums and even made a few anonymous contacts. Given the simplistic nature of my technological inquiries, I'm sure my inexperience was plainly obvious, but I remained undaunted. I had developed a taste for the information available, for the varying views and opinions of others, and I was not to be thwarted by my inexpertness.
After much practice I became proficient at navigating the extranet's potential pitfalls, learned how to identify common risks of infection, and even downloaded a privacy mod which I promptly respec'd to my personal preferences. The extranet had convenient instructions and guides for nearly everything, most of it incomprehensible to me at the time.
Regardless, my studies on biology and chemistry continued apace with the help of my new omni-tool, the information piling up and soaking into my mind. Never had I realized the wealth of information the galaxy held and I lamented my gaps in knowledge. However, I decided to curb my appetites when the subject matter veered toward organically based fuel cells, the advanced formulae boggling my mind. I felt comfortable within my small realm of knowledge and did not feel the need to push myself further. Household ingredients were all my recipes necessitated.
Some days later the pain of my wounds flared anew and my thoughts wandered unrestrained. Images of Brulin Ton's sweaty hands on my skin filled my mind and I seethed with anger. I hated the fact that I had not been strong enough to push him away, to prevent such pain that he inflicted. I activated my 'tool and opened a search on self-defense. Immediately I was bombarded by a variety of images, each depicting an awkward, uncomfortable position with an individual dressed in what appeared to be pajamas. I refined my search to include information suited to more classically feminine traits, reliant on quickness and flexibility rather than strength.
Once again, a variety of images scrolled down my screen and I skimmed over each one until I came across mention of a species I had rarely heard of: drell. I perused the article, intrigued that the Illuminated Primacy was suspected of training young drell for assassinations. I dug deeper as curiosity drove me. Omega rarely saw either drell or hanar and my imagination ran rampant. I scoured the extranet for knowledge of their kind and all forms of additional information, curious as to whether the rumors of training were true.
My quest for knowledge was halted as I reached a dead end. From what I could tell, no official information on such controversial training was available, although I did find several unreliable conspiracy theories. By this time, however, I had realized the forums were useful for entertainment, as well as intelligence, the dependability of such entirely debatable.
Thwarted, I resumed my search on self-defense. I reviewed a new article and contented myself for the moment by studying ancient asari forms, unpronounceable by my tongue, which focused on centering oneself. A footnote in the article also made mention that the forms could be learned with time by the uninitiated, and were useful for enhancing flexibility, balance, and strength. I downloaded the article immediately.
Carefully, I untangled myself from the sheets and slid out of bed. My muscles ached with inactivity, but I ignored the discomfort. With slight difficulty, I synced up my omni-tool to the vid screen and ran the program. The forms were excruciating, my sore body protesting every move, but I pushed beyond the pain. I followed the lengthy series of steps, finally completing the first form after an hour of persistence. Sweat trickled down my brow as I sighed with relief. Checking my omni-tool I smiled haggardly; I only had two hundred nineteen more forms to go.
At first, Arch found my new style of entertainment amusing. He walked in the bedroom one night as I attempted to complete the second form, a mixed look of confusion and humor on his face. Much to my pleasure he proceeded to ignore me that evening. I was not so lucky the next night. Arch studied me, his eyes roaming over my body, darkness glittering in his gaze. Apparently, he assumed me well and fit because he took me that evening.
It became part of his routine after that. I would move through the forms, focusing my breath and centering myself prior to his arrival at home. If his workday ended early he would make a beeline for the bedroom, his eyes hungry as he drank in the renewed strength of my body. I could only guess at his interest, but Arch apparently approved of the forms, noting with satisfaction my increased flexibility. His attentions, while frequent, remained tender and I found myself thankful his anger had yet to resurface.
Time passed quickly in those days and I busied myself with inventive new studies. I grew accustomed to my omni-tool and tweaked it frequently, most often after perusing the advertisements for new upgrades. Although a brand new, pristine application sounded amazing, I had learned enough to apply my own personal touches and modifications. I was, however, still constrained by inconvenient blocks. It seemed that Arch desired to maintain his control over me, extending his power even to the extranet. I had designs on eliminating that control, and it was such an endeavor that led me to Arch's study.
The study was considered off limits to everyone but Arch and his personal guards, although I was able to slip in unnoticed. Arch did little to mask the entrance from the bedroom, believing that I was too broken to dare trespass on his property. Luckily for me, he believed false.
Few books lined the walls, the empty shelves dominating the study. I padded softly across the floor, careful of my step as I approached his desk. I was unsure of any security measures he had in place and scanned the layout with a new mod on my 'tool. It registered no energy spikes of note and I hoped my information was reliable. I scanned the desk again, the readings no different, and proceeded with my quest. I would get no results unless I took action.
Arch had worked late into the night the previous evening and his terminal sat in plain view atop his desk. I couldn't believe my luck and immediately grew wary. I debated for a time whether or not to continue, and upon deciding Arch could not know of my intentions, I activated the console. The display seemed bright in the dim light of the study, but I dared not alter the settings lest it give away my trespass. Entering his study was sin enough, but if I was caught trying to access his files my punishment would be severe indeed. I pushed the thought aside, and following the instructions I had downloaded, synced up my omni-tool to his terminal.
I was at a loss at first, the blinking request for Arch's access codes taunting me. I double checked the information on my 'tool and examined the directions once more. The files I needed to modify were most likely encoded and I had little idea of where to find them. However, I first needed to access said files, and without the password, I had only one option. I would have to disconnect and try my luck at a later date. Unwilling to give up, I swallowed my apprehension and went to work.
I input the first word that came to mind when I thought of Arch. In retrospect, it was not the most intelligent impulse as my feelings toward him colored my responses. I repeated the process multiple times in my persistence, the display's glaring rejection grating on my nerves until I finally paused to gather my wits. No doubt Arch thought himself of greater character than I did, and I pondered the idea while surveying his study.
It was richly decorated with the same comforts of his bedroom. A set of wingback chairs upholstered in real leather faced the elegant desk. An ornamental rug blanketed the floor, hiding the cheap tiles beneath. The bookshelves were crafted to resemble the richness of ancient oak, the grain of the wood perfectly detailed. I noticed a decidedly lonely grouping of books and moved to investigate.
The covers were worn and old, as if once read quite often then kept only as an afterthought. I smiled in delight as I recognized the titles, a distant memory floating to mind. Years ago I had made mention to Arch of this particular author, but he had questioned my interest with such vehemence that I never spoke of it again. At the time, I did not understand that it was defensiveness which prompted him, but as I placed the book carefully back on the shelf, I knew better. I returned to the terminal and typed in the password.
Machiavelli.
A delicious feeling of accomplishment welled up inside me as the code was accepted. I reveled in my victory for but a moment before refocusing my energies on the task at hand. Following the instructions, and with a touch of trial and error, I finally found the files I sought. Much to my surprise the files were not encoded and I heaved a sigh of relief. I had already spent far too much time deciphering the access code and I did not want to try my luck any more than I already had.
It seemed that Arch did not expect me, or anyone else, to breach his security in-home, and for once I was grateful for his ego. Making haste, I used my tool to modify the files that blocked me from certain sites, namely the more educational ones. The data transfer took no more than a minute and I marveled at the speed with which data scrolled down the display. Upon notification of completion I accessed the terminal's history and erased my presence per the instructions. The information I received had so far been accurate, and I hoped it would hold true to the end.
Disengaging my omni-tool, I switched off Arch's terminal and moved his chair back into the exact position I had found it. My adrenaline still pumping, I smiled indulgently at the success of my endeavor just as one of Arch's guards walked in on me. I froze, caught like a thief in the black market.
He stalked across the room purposefully and snatched my arm in a vise-like grip. Shock flooded my system but I was quick enough to pocket my omni-tool. He thrust his helmeted head in my face and demanded to know my purpose.
Of course I lied and claimed that I was only looking for another book to read. The guard was either very smart or very paranoid because he refused to believe me, his grip ever tightening about my arm. I professed curiosity, playing on the fact that my love of books was well known throughout the house. Still his suspicions persisted, but I did not deviate from my story. The only proof of my trespass hidden away within the modified files. One had only to recognize it and my crime would be revealed.
He shook me violently, demanding I tell him the truth. The armored guard, with his suit's strength modifications and adrenaline boosters, outweighed me by at least one hundred pounds. The force of his grip sent waves of agony down my arms. Pain blossomed behind my eyes as he shook me again, the violence of his interrogation causing my head to throb. I believed he would have tossed me like a rag doll had Arch not entered the study at that moment.
He stood, face blank at first as he realized he was not alone. Surprise, then anger darkened his countenance as his eyes took in the scene before him. I stood silently, not daring to move lest the guard or Arch rain fury down upon me. I kept my mouth closed, awaiting Arch's pleasure. The guard was not as intelligent.
"Sir." He attempted to stand at attention while maintaining his painful grip on my arm.
Arch looked from the guard back to me and I drew on all the innocence I could muster, painting a mask of sincerity upon my face, a false tear trickling down my cheek. I focused on the pain radiating down my arms, the blood pounding behind my eyes; anything to detract from the apprehension I felt welling up inside.
"What goes on here?" His tone was low, menacing, and I recognized the command in his voice. I opened my mouth as if to explain but the guard answered first.
"I found her in here, sir. Without permission."
A single eyebrow raised in query as Arch's dark eyes contemplated me. My mind worked furiously trying to formulate a response, guilt and fear bubbling to the surface. I had only one option: to play on Arch's jealousy.
"He attacked me," I blurted, the words dripping from my mouth with surprising ease. "In the bedroom. I ran in here to try to get away, but he chased me."
The guard shook me again, the anger plain in his voice. The power of his grasp increased and, for Arch's benefit, I cried out in pain. Arch was across the room before I realized it and wrenched me from the guard's grip. He called out to his personal guards and two more armored men filed into the study. He gave them instructions to remove the offending guard and turned to me. His eyes burned into mine and I barely noticed as the guards exited his study. My focus was on the hatred I saw boiling beneath his calm façade.
He stroked my face, fingers barely brushing my skin before he promptly turned to leave. I didn't follow, knowing full well I would rather not see the results of my lie. Arch confirmed my suspicions later that evening. His desire sated, he lit one of his sweet cigars, the smoke drifting lazily upon the air. I watched him for a time, curled beneath the sheets, my head pillowed on his legs. Dark eyes met mine, glittering with an intensity I rarely saw. His fingers brushed my face again, feather light touches that traced a line down my body. He paused at the new bruises on my arms and frowned.
"He won't trouble you anymore, Jin." A thin ring of smoke escaped his lips and floated almost playfully above us. "He won't ever be anything again."