Chapter 5

Ivory runs her hands over the intricately crafted bodice she's wearing. It's made of finest leather, with detailed stitchwork along its shape, adorned with tiny jewels. Underneath, the garment fans out into a wide, silken skirt, slit on thigh-level.

She's never been the type for a gown.
Even less, for a throne.

Alone in the large room her throne resides in, she taps her finger on the armrests, her newly-applied, blue finger armor causing a much sharper sound than she's used to, from claws alone.

Ivory sighs deeply.

This is what she's born for. Her destiny, her purpose. And yet, it feels so alien and uncomfortable.

The crew has accepted her without much effort on her part. They're hopelessly understaffed, a wild ragtag-group of Wraith nobody else wants. Outcasts, traitors, defectors. Just like her.
Yet, they still insist on addressing her with utter devotion; Ivory assumes, they miss being under a Queen's rule. Submission gives them comfort, while dominance makes her uncomfortable.

The doors to her lonely chamber slide open, and Shine, her new first in command enters, head bowed in respect.
He's a battle-worn Blade, just a little younger than Ivory herself is. A gnarled scar runs across his left cheek, and continues down his neck, vanishing under his collar. It must've been a severe injury, if a Wraith's self healing capabilities had allowed it to scar this badly.
Shine has soft, shoulder-length hair, yet he does not seem to care much for it, simply keeps his long bangs tied together in the back, so they're out of his face.

"My Queen," he speaks to her, his telepathic voice still makes Ivory squirm, as she's used to verbal communication.

"What is it?" she asks, out loud, and hears him clear his throat, as he adjusts to her preferred ways to conversation.

"We managed to analyze the data you gave us." he reports, and hands her a tablet.
Nodding, she takes it, and skims over the writing, thankful for forcing herself to read Wraith in her leisure time. Otherwise, her language skills may have declined over the centuries.

Here, on a real Hive, things work a lot different than on Helena's base ship. Ivory's little tactic would never have found approval there.
Just before Helena had left for Death's gathering, Ivory had taken the liberty to plant a small sensor on her clothing, to gather data on the fine ebbs and flows of energy on the Hive, and on Death herself. Getting it on, and retrieving it was hardly a challenge.
Helena trusts her, after all, and their relationship allows Ivory to get very up close and personal to her.

"This is deeply disconcerting." she announces to Shine, who is still standing by, awaiting further orders. "The readings show massive power movement and fluctuation, in patterns unlike anything I've ever seen."

Shine nods.
"I agree, my Queen." he says, his voice coarse. As well as Ivory isn't accustomed to mental speech, he's struggling with the verbal version. "Our clevermen presume that Death is working on a large-scale project of some fashion. Unfortunately, the gathered data isn't sufficient to learn of said project's nature."

"I can see that." Ivory agrees. "Death's plans for this galaxy do seem to entail more than brute force by outnumbering her adversaries. I need to know what she plans."

"I am at your service, my Queen."Shine sounds a little too eager, when he states that, as if he's still trying to prove himself worthy of her attention.

Ivory doesn't miss that.

She leans forward, her skirts rustling with the motion.

"I want you to infiltrate her." she instructs. "Offer your assistance, tell her you have information on a certain Vampire who opposed her. String her along, and gather information."

"Anything my Queen wishes." Shine's response follows without a second of hesitation.

"However, I must arm you for the task, Shine." She gets up, seeing him look up to her on the mention of his name. "Death has swayed many of our brothers and sisters with little effort. I do not want you to fall to her charms."

"I assure you, my Queen, I-..."
"No. We do not know what she is capable of. I must bind you to myself."

Shine nods slowly, and reaches up to unclasp his heavy leather coat, just enough to allow a hand in. His hands sink to his sides again, and Ivory sees a hint of fear in his carefully crafted neutral masque.

She steps toward him, and places her feeding hand on the strip of naked skin he's exposed for her.

When she latches her feeding organ to his skin, his eyes widen, and he bites down on his lower lip, hard enough to break skin.
Ivory pulls, feels him wither under her touch as she feeds. It's intense. Very.

No amount of playing around with Helena's life could have prepared her for the experience of feeding on another Wraith. While she's accustomed to tasting her lover's essence, this is a step further. She's pulling him out of his physical shell, not his life, his soul. He's suddenly an entity, existing on an entirely different plane of consciousness, together with her, with her hand on his heart.

Ivory didn't notice herself clenching her eyes shut, until she actively forces them open again. Shine hasn't flinched.
His features are sunken and frail, his breath flat, leaving him in short huffs, his face dominated by an expression of raw agony, but he hasn't made an attempt to stop her.

Carefully, Ivory stops the drain, and reverses the flow. Shine's eyes widen for a different reason, as she pumps his life back into him.

This time, she watches.
With every beat of her heart, now synched up to his, the vitality returns to him, filling the deep pits of his withered visage, the grey tint leaving his skin, and his eyes regaining their glow. He has his hand around her wrist, and his grip gets firmer.

"My Queen-..."
That reaches her on a mental level again, and Ivory forces herself to mimic his way of speech.

"There is no one but me for you." she tells him, and she fills him with her power. "Death has no sway on you. I do. Only I do."

His lips part, as he draws breath, his gaze glued to hers. Ivory reverses the flow of life for a few seconds, then returns to giving energy back.

"Tell me, Blade. Who has your loyalty?"

"Only you, my Queen." he whispers, his verbal voice a faint breeze. "Only you."

"Good." she praises him, and gently unlatches, her hand easily slipping from his grip.

Shine trembles and nearly loses balance, but manages to steady himself again.

"Do you feel ready to face her?" Ivory inquires, while retreating back to her throne.

"Yes, my Queen." A whole new sense of devotion radiates from him as he speaks.

"Then go feed, and depart." she orders. "Do not disappoint me, Shine."

"I shall not, my Queen." Shine's voice sounds a little firmer, now that the rush of the moment has passed.
Ivory knows exactly what's going on inside his head right now. The Gift of Life from a Queen is one of the greater honors a Wraith can receive. She's just risen him in status through the touch of her hand.

As he leaves, she notices him not making an effort to hide the feeding wound, or the blood the process has stained him with.

Traces of his Queen's favor. Everything she'll do here will be sacred to the crew.

The doors close behind Shine, and Ivory exhales audibly. She raises her feeding hand, and examines Shine's black blood staining the slit.

It's supposed to be red.
Helena's red blood, on her hand.

Her heart, her life flowing through her veins.

Her fangs on her throat.

A sharp hiss escapes her. She'd absent-mindedly caressed her feeding slit, parted the outer membranes, and run her finger along its insides.
It's sensitive to the touch. A searing pain rushes through her arm, when she digs a claw into the mucus-covered inside of the organ. A dribble of dark blood seeps out, mixes with Shine's blood on her palm, and runs down her arm.

Ivory experimentally trails her finger across the mending wound, and shivers. It hurts. But not necessarily in a bad way. She angles her index-and middle finger in a way that minimized the risk of stabbing herself again, and pushes the pads of her fingers into the delicate opening.
It's not deep, reaches in about half as far as her palm is thick. Pushing to its limits aches, and Ivory allows herself to moan softly.

Enzyme seeps out of the organ, bright red on her hands. That helps.

She can pretend it's Helena's blood.

Her index finger trails along the outside membrane again, and her sensory pits on her face flare.
She can pretend it's Helena's fingers, if she closes her eyes.

–

"... She left last week, and that's where we are, fact wise." Helena closes her briefing. "Ivory promised to let me know, once she makes any significant progress."

"And she hasn't reported back yet, I presume?" Guide asks. He looks a lot better, now that he's no longer starving, and, more importantly, no longer wearing a grey jumpsuit.

"No. It's still early, I'm sure she's in no distress." Helena confirms and leans back a little.

Her, Guide, and most of her crew have assembled in a large, conference-type room, near the Captain's Quarters.

Those very, very empty Captain's Quarters.

Silence falls, if only briefly. It's Guide that breaks it.
"Atlantis will expect me back." he states. "I am your 'Prisoner', officially, if my information is correct?"
"We negotiated your temporary transfer." Helena says, folding her hands on the desk. "But, if you have any leverage to convince them that you're of more use here...?"

"I might." he shrugs slightly. "Allthough, they do enjoy keeping me in check. Perhaps a little show of power is in order, to solidify your... relations with them?"

Helena raises her brows, and Erinya pulls a face.
"He means, treat him like dirt and let them see it." she translates.
"You're not fond of that idea." Helena assumes.

"No, I am not. We could just leave. They don't have a way of tracking us. We could just stop this charade." Erinya sounds slightly desperate, both Guide and Helena catch onto that.

"That would be very unwise." Guide tells her, emphasizing on every word individually. "If what your Captain speaks of is true, we will need Atltantis' favor."

"There has to be a way to gain their trust in this matter that doesn't involve hurting you." she stubbornly counters.
"No one said anything about hurting him, Erinya." Helena chimes in. "I'm positive, letting them see Guide in chains under our supervision will be enough. Remember, they think we're human."

"I assure you, I do not like the idea of being treated like an animal in your custody myself." Guide says. "But it is necessary. I trust you enough for this, so I will ask you to trust my judgement, at the very least."

Erinya straightens herself.
"I want to be present." she demands.

"That can be arranged." Helena tells her, smiling empathetically. "I suggest, we play this off through video transmission. That leaves some room for error."

"Agreed. I do suggest waiting for intel from Ivory." Guide says, "That way, you can play her intel off as the result of my interrogation."
"Good point. Then, we're just waiting on her."