Rising Tensions
"Heal him!" Tyr demanded angrily. In his arms was his weapons officer, Kato Wu, bleeding to death after yet another attack on the ship. In the month since he'd kissed her, they'd experienced five such attacks, all intending to steal the prisoner for the bounty. Tyr's crew had fought them all off, but none as fiercely as Tyr himself. When asked, he just said he had a reputation to uphold, but Misao teased him relentlessly that he was falling for the Zarkonen.
"No," Isabelle shouted back at him, bringing him back to reality. "I'm your prisoner, I'm not your medical officer."
"Kato fought to protect you this day. He's the reason you haven't been accosted by those Zyston devils that would have done worse than just beat you if they'd gotten their hands on you. Now, heal him. Please." With that, he dumped the unconscious man into her cell and walked away. He came back with rudimentary supplies from the infirmary and shoved them at the girl before walking away. Darla looked around herself thoughtfully once he was gone. This was the first time her door had been left unlocked since she'd been escorted to the brig. She could escape; she could go and find a lifepod and start making her way back to the Enterprise. But if she did, this kind man that made her laugh would die.
With a heavy sigh, she started prepping her materials, wishing for her tricorder, and started looking for the source of the bleed. By the time Tyr and his crew had disposed of the bodies and cleaned up the ship, Kato was once again cracking jokes, although he had a permanent grimace on his face as she stitched him shut.
"You're just lucky that your boss knows the magic word," she smiled as she worked.
"'The magic word'?" Kato grimaced as she hit a particularly tender spot.
"Sure. He said please," she hummed with a secret smile on her face as she worked. "If he hadn't you would have bled to death in this cell while I escaped."
"Oh, come on, Isabelle. You may be cold, but you're not that cold."
"No, you're right," she said with a sigh as she finished her patch job. "I hate that I can't be that cold."
"You hate it?" he blinked.
"I hate that I don't have a choice," she said heavily, no longer smiling. "I hate that I have to be the softball, the weakest link, the-"
"But that just inspires all of us to be stronger," he said softly, touching a tear that rolled down her face. She swore and started scrubbing at her face with her relatively clean upper arms.
"Yeah, until you sell me to that Bowser guy. Then it's back to business as usual, am I right?" He stared at her guiltily as she backed away. "I hate that I'm all alone in a cruel universe and expected to do beautiful things simply because I was born this way. No one has ever cared about me, but even locked in a cell, I've experienced more kindness and beauty than in all the long, dreary years of my life. And it's all about to be taken away!" Before she could cover her face with her bloody hands and dissolve into tears, a warm, wet cloth was pressed between them. Isabelle looked up into the deep brown eyes of her captor and realized that she was in love with him. This cruel, hard man that was bound and determined to sell her to the highest bidder. This mercenary that didn't give two craps about her outside of her monetary value. She wanted to be angry at him, She wanted to spit in his face.
She accepted the wet towel and cleaned her hands thoroughly on it.
"You will not sway me, Zarkonen," he said coldly. "I'm a mercenary and you are my merchandise. Nothing more. You're going to Bowser and me and my crew will be paid for your capture. No amount of sexual overtures are going to-"
"What 'sexual overtures'? You know, I don't know what a Zarkonen is, but they sound thoroughly unpleasant. I was raised as a human. So you can stop calling me a Zarkonen and call me human. I've never slept around and I never will, so you can get that bullshit idea out of your head right now. I refuse to sell my body just to get away from you." The two stared each other down, the Captain being the first to look away. He motioned for Kato to leave the brig and followed. To be honest, the girl acted nothing like a Zarkonen.
"You make a fascinating case for Nature vs Nurture, Isabelle Bateman. Your non-sexual nature is worthy of a Nietzschean. However, it changes nothing. You will fetch an excellent price from Bowser and that's the end of it. Another month of travel will see us to our destination. Prepare yourself for the inevitable." He left the brig but didn't lock the door behind him. Apparently, the act of patching up his crew member had earned her some privileges. There was no joy in the accomplishment though. She felt hollow, worn out. The music started, for the first time since that disastrous session a month ago. She didn't have the energy to fight it this time. Or her tears.
You always were the one to show me how
Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now
This thing is slowly taking me apart
Grey would be the color if I had a heart
Come on and tell me
You make this all go away
You make this all go away
I'm down to just one thing
And I'm starting to scare myself
You make this all go away
You this all go away
I just want something
I just want something I can never have
She let the tears fall endlessly as she sang, her misery complete. Here was the perfect man for her, strong and fierce, and she couldn't have him. Their lives were too different. She was too weak. She wished fervently for a knife to end her torment, but since the man had discovered her secret, he hadn't let her near so much as a butter knife. He barely let her have a fork for her food.
Everybody knows the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes…
Everybody knows
She continued her new song, letting her power drag the songs out of her. This was how she felt after all. One song would fade into another after this one and she would let it, thinking of his chiseled body and a wicked smirk that made her heart flip.
And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
Everybody knows that you live forever
Once you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still picking cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And Everybody knows
Knowing the pattern by now, she prepared herself for the third song, wondering what her power had in store for her.
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, Going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, No expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world
Mad world
"It won't always be like this, Isabelle," Misao said softly as she lounged outside the door.
"It's Darla," she sighed, too exhausted to even wipe away the signs of her misery. "Darla was the name I was given when they found me at age six."
"Four. You were four years old when you were found. You've shown us those memories. And everyone knows about the Princess who went missing one day, kidnapped by brigands, and taken out of our galaxy completely for unknown reasons. That princess, that Khaleesi princess, was Princess Isabelle Rachel of the Bateman line. It was never made clear who her Berserker protector was, she wasn't old enough when she was kidnapped to identify her protector, but he's out there somewhere and there's no way he's going to allow you to go unclaimed for long now that your scent is back in the galaxy." The girl sniffed herself, and the cheerful woman giggled. "It's not a physical scent, not really. Nietzschean men identify their mates through it. Berserkers are rumored to be even worse. You two will figure things out eventually."
"What two?" she asked innocently. Misao stared at her until she looked away in embarrassment. Yes, it was blatantly obvious that Tyr was her match. His strength for her weakness; his anger for her calm. But if that was the case, why were they headed for Bowser at a steady rate?
Things to ponder.
