A/N: I...hate this chapter? So if you do, too, we're probably in agreement. Because of that, I have both avoided editing this chapter, as well as posting it. Anxiety of posting this chapter is actually part of the reason updates had been so slow previously. I figured if I kept posting, eventually I'd get to this one.
BUT, in order to get to next chapter, which I quite like, I have to get through this one. And I think most of you will also enjoy the next chapter.
Big content warning for attempted SA in this one. Scroll to the author's note at the bottom for more specific details of this warning.
The security office was not a place Eva tended to frequent. She made her way slowly, trying to give herself more time to formulate her plan.
It was on the later side, so she wasn't surprised to find the office manned by only one individual – Lt. Williams's commanding officer. What was his name again…? She didn't know him very well, and she didn't much care for him, but she was sure she could still figure something out.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the door.
"Quiet night, isn't it?"
His eyes shifted from the tablet in his hand over to her and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" He had been leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, but sat up when he saw her.
"Uh…yes." She stepped into the dark room, illuminated only by the blue light of the wall of computer screens. "I uh…I heard a strange noise at my door last night, like someone was trying to break in, and I was hoping to take a look at the footage before I officially put in a report."
"Wouldn't be the first break in we've had reported lately." He waved her in farther. "Come take a look. Where are your quarters, kid?"
"Southeast Pier. Room 5221."
She carefully watched his actions as he pulled up the appropriate video. Stealing a quick glance at him, his unreadable gaze and closed body posture, there was no way she was going to trick or convince this guy to hand over the footage of the holding cell. This would have to be a visit to gain intel only. She could then pay Janus a visit later tonight, get the cloaking device from him, and come back to watch and delete the footage herself. Accessing the recordings didn't seem too difficult, either: first select the desired area of the city, then the floor, then… Wait, how did he do that?
"How do you know which cameras point to what on each floor?"
"They're labeled, each with a different letter of the alphabet."
"But how do you know that, say, Camera A points to this set of rooms, Camera B to this other set?"
"Got it all up here," he said with a smirk, pointing to his head. "Why do you want to know?"
She gave an innocent shrug. "Just curious. Pretty impressive… that you have that many memorized. The city is huge."
"Yeah, well, it's part of the job. What time and day?" He looked down at the keyboard, ready to type in her information.
This was even easier than she thought. No need to fast forward or rewind the cameras to the time in question – just type it in. The hardest part would be to find the appropriate camera on the floor of the holding cell, but she figured she could just try them all until she found something.
"Yesterday – last night…"
He entered the date of the day before.
"Just before midnight. About 23:40, maybe?"
He nodded and typed in the time.
An image of her door popped up, and he set the video to play at quadruple speed. Two minutes of time zoomed past, and when – as Eva expected – nothing happened, he increased the playback rate to ten times regular speed. But there was just her door. No one walking by. No invented trespassers.
He hit pause and turned to her. "Nothin'."
"Huh," she mused. "You're sure?"
He gestured to the screen. "Unless you've got the date wrong. You saw the tape. Nobody there."
"How strange."
He narrowed his eyelids at her. "Could have been the wind. We're still getting aftershocks of that storm from a week ago. Can play tricks on the mind." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Especially young minds."
She nodded and, cautiously, began to back out of the room. "Yeah. Maybe it was the wind. Well, I sure do appreciate you checking for me. It really spooked me."
"Not a problem. Stop by any time."
She turned her back to him, ready to leave, when he spoke again.
"So is it true?" he asked. "You're the Satedan alien's daughter?"
She looked at him over her shoulder. He was standing now.
"I am."
"You know, we were all taking bets about who you were. Before word of the paternity test got out, Woolsey hardly gave any explanation about who you were to anyone who wasn't directly involved – not even senior staff. You were 'a runner they found on Sateda.' No other info. But…word travels fast. Now pretty much everyone knows. You were the talk of the town for a while there, though."
"Who did people think I was?" she dared to ask, turning completely around to face him.
"Some people thought you were his long-lost sister, others had bets on you being just some random Satedan, others think you're a Wraith spy."
"A spy?" she repeated, halfway between indignant and amused.
"I don't know if anyone would have guessed daughter, though."
"Seems hard to believe, I know. Time travel and alternate realities be crazy, huh?" Once again, she turned to leave.
"And Emma's your mother?"
She whipped around. Nearly everyone on this based called her Dr. Rogers, Ronon included. Why was he using her first name? And why did he keep calling Ronon "the Satedan?" Surely, he knew his name; everyone did.
"Yes…she is."
"Explains why you've visited her in her lab a few times."
She took a step backward. How did he know that?
"And why you have access to her quarters…"
Another step.
"You even went in there by yourself a little over a week ago, and when you left, you went straight to the Satedan's quarters."
One more step and she heard the door hiss shut behind her. She brought her hand behind her back and felt for the small knife in her waistband.
"Your voice…you sound exactly like her."
He took a few steps toward her and she pressed herself against the closed door.
"You even look like her," he said. "A lot like her."
"No one ever tells me that." Her own voice sounded tinny and distant in her ears, like it wasn't her own. "Everyone always tells me how much I look like my dad. Bit of a blow to a girl's ego, to be constantly told you look like a big, mean man." She hoped that if she kept the conversation light, so would he.
"Maybe in the obvious ways." Ever so slowly, his eyes inspected her from top to bottom, lodging a block of ice in her stomach. Her hand clenched around the handle of the knife, but he had his sidearm strapped to his leg. "But your body, the shape of your face, your smile…your mouth…the resemblance is striking. You're almost as beautiful as she is."
He moved so fast, she didn't have time to react. One of his hands was around her throat, the other holding her left arm. He had shoved her so hard against the door, her dominant hand was crushed between it and her back, and she couldn't pull her knife on him. She tried one of the defensive moves that she and Ronon had taught earlier, but he was well-versed in close combatives and managed to keep her pinned.
"Why are you really here?" he snarled. He was so close, she could not only feel his breath, but smell it, too. Stale coffee and…alcohol?
She couldn't find her voice to answer.
"You didn't hear anything at your door last night. You can cut the bullshit. Who sent you?" He pressed his hips against hers, immobilizing her legs, her last line of defense against him. "Was it Dex?"
She shook her head.
"It was Emma?"
Once more she shook her head. "They didn't send me. Let me go!"
She watched the thoughts, each apparently more sinister than the next, cross his face. "Turn around," he whispered.
You need to maintain eye contact.
"Make me," she growled. If he tried to turn her, he'd release her arm, and she'd be able to grip her knife.
The pressure on her throat increased, but he shifted his body just enough that she got her arm free and, with one fluid motion, slashed him across the face. He instinctively drew back, so the knife barely scratched his face, but it was enough to draw blood. Free from his grasp, she charged at him, but he drew his sidearm and aimed.
She froze.
"Drop the knife," he said, wiping the blood from his cheek and nose.
She clutched it tighter and he cocked the gun.
"Drop it."
Her pulse was hammering. She didn't know what to do. Would he really shoot and risk someone hearing?
She had more knives on her. This one was the biggest, but it wasn't the only one.
Without another thought, she threw the knife at him and turned to run. Distantly, she heard the knife clatter to the ground. It hadn't met its target. But there wasn't a gunshot either. Pulling another knife from her hair with one hand, she ran the other over the door sensor, ready to sprint.
The sensor beeped twice, and the door remained shut.
No.
By the time she spun around, he was already on her, her own knife in his hand.
"You're right. Sometimes bringing a knife to a gun fight has its advantages." He brought the tip to a spot just under her jaw and pressed. Not enough to bleed, but enough to be painful. "Quieter."
He took the second knife from her hand and flung it behind him.
"Never mind. I don't want you to turn around. I want to see your face."
"Get off me," she hissed.
"You look just like her and I bet you'll sound just like her, too."
Her heart lurched when she felt his hand drop to her waistband and reach for the laces. Her father had taught her how to tie knots, though, so it wasn't easy for him; one-handed, he kept fumbling to untie them. He cursed and took the frustration out on her, shoving her even harder against the wall and digging the point of the knife into her neck. A piercing pain and warm blood trickled down her neck, until her vision went white as snow shining in moonlight.
She had the buck in her sight, arrow aimed straight for its neck. One arrow wouldn't kill the deer, but it would certainly bring it down long enough for her to go up to it and slit its throat. She'd just have to be careful to not get gored by one of its long antlers. She drew her arm farther back, strengthening the force of her shot. It was a massive animal and she'd need to get it on the first shot. She loosened her grip. Too massive. She had brought down deer this size, but never alone. What would she do with it once it was dead? If her father were with her, he would slide its carcass onto his shoulders and carry it back to their camp, but she possessed nowhere near the strength nor size of her father. And he was gone.
A rustle in the nearby bushes attracted her attention. From the tree covering, a doe and her fawn emerged. The fawn was still unsteady on its feet. The light of the moon reflected against its little nose, wet and jet black; the small spots all along its back were the same shade as the newly-fallen snow. Eva closed her eyes and let out a silent sigh. Opening her eyes again with renewed conviction, she pulled the cord of her bow back and took aim. She loosed the arrow with a quick swish and it found its mark. The fawn fell to its side, bleating loudly for its mother who, along with the buck, had scattered away in the commotion. Eva ran up to it, unsheathed her dagger and quickly silenced the poor creature.
The red blood blossomed in the white snow beneath its body as Eva tried to hold back the tears stinging at her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she quietly whispered to it.
"You have to maintain eye contact," came her father's voice from somewhere deep in her subconscious.
A/N: Content warning for SA: This chapter is from Eva's POV. Eva goes to the security office to get video surveillance and runs into Captain Hanson on duty there. Near the end of the chapter, Captain Hanson physically intimidates/assaults Eva and attempts to sexually assault her. The beginning of the attempt is "shown," but cuts away to a memory of Eva's time on Sateda.
In the memory of Sateda, Eva kills a baby deer so that could also be upsetting to some?
If you want to read part of the chapter but avoid the actual SA content, read from the beginning until the line "You even went in there by yourself a little over a week ago, and when you left, you went straight to the Satedan's quarters." If the deer hunting doesn't bother you, you can resume reading where the italics start and continue to the end of the chapter.