Alternate Choices
By H.W.

Chapter 7

"Alright, Doctor. I told you to have five bio-suit designs ready, you have them?"

The Doctor went to the desk and picked up a padd, "They are right here," He said with a voice that bordered on hostility.

"Mind your manners, Doctor. I have been very patient with you since you are not a Human. But that doesn't mean that you can't suffer the same fate as that moron out there. I'm sure that it wouldn't take long to find out what can kill a hologram."

Before the Doctor could reply, the door to the other room opened and the two guards came out.

"What are you doing here?" Torres asked with a growl.

"She ordered us out."

"What?" Torres asked, not quite believing what she heard.

"Intendant, your body slave, she ordered us out," One of the guards said irritated, "She said that it was an order. And since you had not given us the specific order to stay inside..."

"Alright, alright already. Well, don't just stand there like fools, guard the door," Torres started walking back and forth in the little office, thinking of what to do about the situation, 'Well, I should have realized that she would have liked to be alone, I should have foreseen that. And since I indeed didn't order them to stay, any order she gives on that subject does not contradict an order from me. So that means that she was allowed to order them out.'

Accepting her own conclusion, Torres turned back to the Doctor as if nothing had happened, "My pet and I will leave on a journey tonight that will last several weeks. She thinks that she can go without regenerating and maintenance for up to three weeks if she wears clothing with bio-suit technology each day and sleep a period of about eight hours each day. Do you agree with her on this?"

"Well, yes, I think so. But, just in case, I would suggest that Seven takes along a set of tools needed for the maintenance of her implants. She knows how to do some of it herself so if something were to happen there would be a chance that she knows how to help herself. The only problem I see is with her sleeping, we don't know for sure if she actually can sleep."

"She can, she did so last night," Torres leaned against the desk and looked down on the Doctor who had sat down in his chair, "Now, let's forget the pretense of it taking a lot of time to incorporate those bio-suit designs into the clothing. How long will it truly take you to make the changes in the other clothing?

"I know that you were only stalling for time so that you can see my pet more often and make sure I am treating her well. But as I said, I am leaving on a trip tonight with my pet, and all of you will not accompany us. I will have a computer unit delivered so that my pet can contact you every once in a while. So now that communication with my pet is taken care of, when can I expect the rest of the designs?"

"You are leaving tonight? Give me four hours," The Doctor relented. If Seven was to leave on a trip, he wanted her to have the bio-suits to make this possible.

"Four hours it is," Torres agreed with a small nod, "I will send someone to get the padd, since obviously for security reasons it won't be possible to up or download information with the computer unit you will receive. It can only be used for communication, if somebody contacts you."

Torres looked to the door to the other room and suddenly asked, "She seemed to be doing a lot better. Is she healing properly?"

"Her Klingon physiology is supporting her human immune system extraordinarily well," The Doctor said, knowing that the Intendant was talking about B'Elanna, "She is still very weak, but I think that I can let her out of the bed by tomorrow. Though I don't know how your stunt in there affected her. How c..."

"Doctor, let me give you a little tip. If that B'Elanna Torres is anything like me, don't keep any information from her. Not knowing stuff will make her wonder and worry. But if she knows things, she will react to that. And if she knows things she doesn't like, she will heal faster so that she can do something about it."

"Intendant, may I ask you a personal question?"

"You may ask, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I will answer."

"If all Humans are slaves here, than how can a Human/Klingon hybrid become Intendant?"

Torres straightened up at the question, she hadn't expected that question and she also didn't like to be reminded of the fact that her DNA wasn't fully Klingon, "Because I am seen as fully Klingon. They don't hold it against me that my mother was a fool. One injection is needed every year to stop the female cycle and make it impossible to become pregnant. One single injection. And just in case one is busy and forgets it for a few weeks, the injection actually lasts for two years. But my mother was still stupid enough to get pregnant from a slave. I have proven not to be as stupid as her."

"May I assume from that that you hate your mother?"

"I despise her, but since she is dead I don't have to deal with her."

"She died at your birth?" The Doctor wondered.

"She was killed by the rest of the family as soon as I was born. They threw her in the same nameless grave that they threw the slave in that conceived me."

"I thought Klingons were burned?" The Doctor asked surprised, "In our universe, Klingons think that when buried, the spirit won't be able to leave the body."

"That's the whole point, Doctor. Who would want to deal with her foolish spirit in the afterlife?"

Torres looked to the door when it opened and saw her slave come out, "Alright, Doctor, assemble your senior staff, including the engineering representative in the small gathering room," Torres saw the look in her slave's eyes and she knew that she shouldn't care about it. But something inside her still made her tell the guards to wait outside.

"Come here."

Seven did as she was told.

"Look me in the eyes, slave," Torres saw those azure blue eyes focusing on her own and could see something in them that she hadn't seen before. If she had to name it, she would have called it... disappointment, "You are upset about what I did out there, and also in that room. I don't have to explain myself to you, slave."

"I know, mistress."

"As long as that is clear... listen. I had very good reasons for what I did. You might find what I did harsh, I call it straight to the point, because the end result would still be the same. I will tell you later why I did what I did. But for now, simply believe that I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, mistress."

"Listen, my pet, in the future, even if you don't agree with what I do, even if what I do sickens you, even if what I do makes you despise me. Never... never, show it. Always act as if you would be glad to do it for me if I gave you the opportunity. Perception is everything.

"Those guards followed your orders today, if you want them to keep doing that they must think that you are absolutely no threat to me. If you show one too many times that you don't agree with what I do, they might 'accidentally' kill you because you could be a risk to me. Especially in these times, where only a few days ago an Intendant has been killed."

"Yes, mistress," Seven was looking forward to hearing the Intendant's reasoning for her actions later on. She suspected that she would not agree with those reasons. But the fact that the Intendant had reasons and hadn't done what she did only to be cruel, did help Seven lighten up considerately, "It will not h..."

"No, my pet. Stop saying that things will not happen again if you are not sure that it indeed will not happen again. You already lost forty points for things happening while you said before that it wouldn't happen again."

"Forty points?" Seven was surprised, and worried about the amount.

"Don't worry. In that same time you also made sixty points for other reasons. So you are twenty points in the right direction. Now come, I'm about to torment your senior crew."


"Lighten up, my pet. If you have to do something anyway, you might as well enjoy it."

"Yes, mistress."

As soon as they left sickbay, the guards once again formed their armed square for the short distance to the small gathering room.

"Alright, listen up, slaves," Torres said while she strolled into the room, "Who of you was the highest ranking officer before you all became slaves?"

Janeway took a step forward, "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway c..."

"Shut... up." Torres stepped so close to Janeway that a hand couldn't have passed between them, "You are nothing. You might have been Captain before you all became slaves. But now you are nothing but simple slaves. You might have BEEN Captain but now you ARE nothing. You understand me? Better answer really quick with 'yes, Intendant."

"Yes, Intendant," Janeway repeated through tight lips.

"You really don't know how lucky you are, do you? Normally if I capture a group of slaves I always kill the one that used to lead their group to show that I don't hesitate to kill people, to prove that I don't make empty threats. But since I already had to kill that slave in the hall, I don't think I have to make my point again, do I?"

"No, Intendant."

"Good," Torres started walking up and down in front of the group again like she had done several days before, "Here is what's going to happen. My new ship, the one that used to belong to you, will dock at a space station. There the former crew of the ship, you, will repair the ship.

"Oooh, I know that you smell your chance for escape now, but forget about it. During the entire time, the weapons of the space station will be pointed at the ship. So that is about... eh, ten, fifteen, Mark ten disruptor canons. As soon as the ship moves, it will be destroyed, and all of you will be killed whether you are onboard or not."

Torres stopped in front of the man with the tattoo on his face and studied him for a moment before continuing, "A dampening field will be created around the ship, making use of your transporters impossible. But should you still be foolish enough to try using them; you will all be killed.

"Each morning you will be brought to the ship, and each night you will be brought to a cellblock similar to this one. I know that you have weapons on that ship, and I also know that even if we would remove them, you would just replicate new ones. Making it impossible for you to have, or make, weapons would destroy too many of the systems on my new ship.

"So we are going to do things differently. Every night when you return to your cellblock, each and every one of you will be searched and scanned. If even one weapon is found, even a weapon as simple as a knife; you will all be killed. If, at the end of the day, one of you ends up missing; you will all be killed. And just as an added precaution, all dilitium crystals will be removed from the ship. Who represents Engineering for now?"

"I do, Intendant."

Torres stopped in front of the man who had spoken and asked, "What does the removal of the dilitium crystals mean?"

"Dilitium regulates the flow of antimatter. Without it, warp speeds are not possible," Cary answered.

"Good," Torres started walking again, "But the irregular flow of antimatter is still enough to power the ship and do dry test runs of the engines. So don't even think of trying to be smart and say that you need dilitium for your repairs. The person who asks for dilitium; will be killed."

Torres stopped in front of Janeway and gave her a once over, "One final thing. You all are slaves now. I don't care who has more to say than whom in this group. BUT, a master slave is appointed to this little project and she will more than likely arrive today. You all are slaves, she is a master slave. That means that she outranks you all, including you, miss Captain.

"If I find out that her orders are not followed to the letter; you will all be killed. If she is hurt in any way what so ever; you will all be killed. If you doubt my sincerity in this than remember what is lying in the corridor. You got me?"

"Yes, Intendant."

"I hope for you that you truly do."

Torres saw the younger man at the end of the line looking at her blonde slave and she moved to stand in front of him, "Are you eyeing up my pet, Human?"

"N... no, Intendant. I am merely seeing if a friend of mine is alright."


Torres turned around to her slave to see why the blonde had spoke up, "Speak."

"Mistress, that is Harry Kim, one of the people I told you about who is familiar with Borg technology."

Torres turned back to Harry after hearing that, "Are you now? You are lucky, human. You just gained added worth. I have a special project for you and my counterpart when she is healed enough. When the time comes, the master slave will order you to your job. For this you will have to go into my house on the planet surface. If you do anything but the job that you are supposed to do; everybody in this cellblock will be killed. You got me?"

"Yes, Intendant."

"Good," Torres moved to the door a little before turning around once again, "Well, slaves, I hope you enjoy your stay." With that, Torres left with Seven at her side, surrounded by the four guards.

The Senior staff looked at each other for a moment and Janeway was just about to say something when they heard the voice of the Intendant in the corridor, "Clean that up." They could only assume that the Intendant had ordered the dead body removed.

"Get something to drink," Torres said when they entered the quarters, "First, we will talk. That will give the guards enough time to spread the news of your status. And after that, we will make a tour of my ship, this ship. It might be that I send you somewhere on this ship at some point, do an errand for me, it would be convenient if you actually know where what is."

By the time the Intendant finished talking, Seven had already replicated the drinks for them both.

Torres set down on one of the couches and pointed to the other couch, "Sit."

Seven handed the Intendant her drink and did as she was told.

"Now, do you have any idea why I am sitting here, explaining myself to a slave?"

"No, mistress."

"Good, at least I'm not alone in this madness."


"Never mind. You had a problem down there with me killing that slave and with me telling my counterpart why you are staying here."

"Mistress, you do not owe me an explanation. I am only your slave."

Suddenly Torres stood up and threw her glass against the wall. "Don't you think I know that?!" Torres looked at the dark red stain on the wall and lifted her arms in an irritated gesture, "Great! YOU clean that up when we are done!"

Seven was about to get up to get the Intendant another drink but was stopped by the Intendant's words.

"No. You don't move. You just sit there and let me think. Give me your drink."

Seven handed over her glass to the Intendant who started to stalk through the room.

"You talk back to me, I let it pass. You argue with me, I let it pass. You don't answer me, I let it pass," Torres drained the glass and threw that one against the wall also, "You snoop around and read sensitive information, I let you read even more. You give an order in my name, and I act as if it is nothing. Forget the fucking game, you should have been dead ten times over! Can you tell me why in the name of Kahless you are still alive?"

"Yes, mistress. I think I can."

"What?" Torres asked while stopping her track through the room and fully facing the slave. She had not expected an answer to her rhetorical question.

"I think I can tell you why I am still alive. Each time something happened I was glad that it ended with the Voyager crew not being harmed. But now, looking back over the things you just mentioned. You are right, mistress, I should have been dead.

"I think that even the first night, when you ordered me to please you, if I would not have done it, then you would have done not much about it. I think that you might have only explained the rules of the game you are playing then and after that, you would have punished me by subtracting points."

Torres set down, not really believing her ears, "What? You really think that I won't force you to have sex if I need it? You are deluded, slave."

Seven moved off the couch to her spot between the Intendant's legs and took hold of the Intendant's hands, "No, I think you would not. But please mistress, do not prove me wrong only because I voiced my beliefs. Mistress, I enjoy pleasing you. I am more than willing to do that when ever, where ever you want. You just have to tell me and I will do it, and even if you do not tell me, I will offer because pleasuring you, is also my pleasure. Please, mistress. I beg of you, can we leave it at that?"

The slave's plea had calmed Torres down considerately. There had been a tone in the blonde's voice that Torres had not heard before from the slave. Torres knew that if she would give in to the slave's plea, she would be accepting a boundary that the slave would have established. She, the most powerful of the Intendants, would be accepting a RULE set forth by a slave. There was no way that she could justify this to herself. But no matter how sure she was that she could never accept this, she still heard herself say a soft 'alright.'

Torres could clearly see relief in the blonde's face and she knew that she had made the right choice, "You like pleasuring me that much then, my pet?"

"Is the fact that I would like to pleasure you right now, despite the conversation we are having, an indication, mistress?"

Torres laughed at that, "I guess you could call it that. But, my pet, we do have a conversation to finish."

"Yes, mistress."

"So, you said that you knew why you are still alive. Why don't you let me in on your little secret?"

"Yes, mistress," Seven agreed, but she didn't move from her spot, "From what I can see, the life of an Intendant is actually quite boring. All that you command is ruled by others for you, you just control what others are doing and make the decisions that others do not dare to make. Most of your time is spent with moving from place to place, mostly inside the Klingon territory, to make surprise inspections. But the journeys from one place to the other are very boring."

"True," Torres had to agree, "But how does this explain why you are still alive?"

"Because, even though I may do things that annoy you, and I may also do things that are really unforgivable for a slave. Despite that, over all I have made life for you interesting in the last days. If you would kill me your life would be just as boring as it was a few days ago."

"But," Torres countered, "Now that I have found how entertaining a slave can be, I could simply take another on in your place. Risa is well known for the extraordinary love slaves they train there."

Seven closed her eyes and hoped that she was right. What she was going to ask now was the decisive question. It would force the Intendant to make a decision for herself, "Mistress, do you really want a slave that will do exactly what you tell her to do? That has no will of her own? That has never been encouraged to think in her entire life? That would never dare to talk with you the way I am now?"

Torres was quiet for several minutes, thinking hard about the questions her slave had asked. "I guess not," She finally admitted and she could swear that she felt a slight tremor of relief go through her slave at her words, "Guess I just have to take the shipload of bad that you give me, with the shipload of good. Despite everything else, you do indeed make my life interesting. But, my pet, don't think that you are immortal now."

"No, mistress. I know that if I push too hard, that you will kill the Voyager crew and me. I am only your humble body slave."

"Humble, yeah, right," Torres said amused, "Now, let's change the subject before I start thinking about what we just talked about and realize that I must have lost my mind."

"Yes, mistress," Seven agreed.

"Alright, my pet. Listen, I have a very simple conviction that makes me truly enjoy being Intendant. There are things that I have to do, that I have to decide about that are not easy for most people. To deal with that I adopted the following principal, 'if you have to do something, you might as well enjoy doing it.' I have killed more people than you would like to know, and I have learned to enjoy doing it."


"Yes, my pet, it is time to tell you about the side of me that you have only seen a fraction of. I can be cruel and enjoy it. I can hurt people mentally and physically and enjoy it. And I can truly enjoy killing or torturing somebody. I enjoyed killing that slave down there. But, I don't kill for the joy of it, if that makes sense to you."

"I think it does, mistress. You do not only kill somebody because you enjoy doing so. If you kill, there is a good reason for it, in your mind. But IF you have to kill, you enjoy doing so."

"You just had to put the 'in your mind' in there didn't you? But you are right, that is what it comes down to," Torres looked down on her slave, wondering. She decided that with everything else that had happened, she could simply ask, it was not as if she would ruin her tough image at that point, "Are you comfortable like that?"


"Sitting like that, kneeling on the hard floor. Isn't that uncomfortable?"

"Until now I have always stood. I was either regenerating, or working. Both are done standing upright. Sitting is sitting, position is irrelevant."

"Oh, my dear, positioning can be VERY relevant." Torres said, talking about something else entirely, "Stand up." Once the blonde was standing, Torres took one of the decorative cushions off the couch and put it on the floor, "Sit." The blonde was sitting about a hand width higher and Torres decided that she liked the little bit of added height, "There, that must be more comfortable. Since you seem to have a tendency to end up between my legs all the time, from now on use one of the cushions to sit on. We wouldn't want you to wear out those knees of yours. I like you in that position."

"Yes, mistress," Seven agreed understanding the double meaning of the words only too well.

"Now, back to what we were talking about, "Because of what I just said, I liked telling my counterpart what you are now. I enjoyed seeing the reaction. But think about it, do you think her reaction would have been any different if she had found out from somebody else? Do you think she wouldn't have taken it so hard if, say, the Doctor had told her? No, the reaction would still have been the same, just that now I saw it and could enjoy it. My pet, she was bound to find out. As soon as she leaves that room she is in now, she will hear the others talk about you. I..."

"Mistress?" Seven looked up to the Intendant when she suddenly stopped talking.

"In with one foot, in with the rest of the body," Torres mumbled to herself before continuing, "Now I know for sure that I should kill you. Because believe it or not, I actually also did that for you, my pet."

"For me? How could that have served me?" Seven knew that the Intendant actually meant what she had said, otherwise Seven would have thought that the Intendant had been joking.

"Did you and my counterpart talk about it? If she is anything like me, she would think that she owes you."

"Yes, we talked about it. I think I made her understand that she should not feel guilty about this, and I also think that the conversation deepened the friendship between her and me."

"So because you both were there, and I told her about it, you two were forced to talk about it and come to a conclusion of the matter. Am I right?"

"Yes, mistress."

"But what would have happened if you had not been forced to deal with it? If she had found out from someone else? Would you still have talked about it, or would you two have ended up staying away from each other? You would have blamed yourself, and she would have blamed herself, while the both of you would also have thought that the other blamed her.

"My counterpart would never have come close to you again, thinking that you would, or at least should, hate her. And she would have blamed herself for the rest of her life. Don't you think that it is worth a little puking that this didn't happen?"

"Mistress, if I may say so, you have a strange sense of logic. But I also think that you have a valid point. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just forget about it already, ok?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Now, as for why I killed that slave. You remember what happened to him before I killed him? One of the guards hit him with a rifle before I did anything, which, by the way reaffirms my point about that the guards might 'accidentally' kill you if they think that you are a thread to me.

"Anyway, the guard hit him without me having said anything. The reason for that is that he, as a slave, was coveting something that is mine. You may not like it, my pet, but you are only a slave; you are only a thing, only property. But you are MY property. One does not covert so openly something that belongs to an Intendant, it's even a risky think to do if one isn't a slave.

"Had he been more that just a slave, than he would have been allowed to make me a bid, see if I would be interested in selling you. But a slave? That alone demanded that he would die. You hear me, demanded. If I had let the slave live after what he did I would have lost the respect of my troops. That is something I can't afford, my pet."

Torres sighed softly before continuing, "That is also one of the downsides of being the Klingon Intendant. True, I am the most powerful of the Intendants. But I have to make sure that I have the respect of the troops. Kira Nerys, the Bajoran Intendant that was killed, she was hated and despised by all.

"Ten percent of the entire Bajoran treasury disappeared into her pockets each year. She thought only of herself and did whatever suited her. If I were to act like she had... I would be dead in five minutes.

"You see, Kira was able to stay alive so long because nobody dared to try and kill her. But I'm the Klingon Intendant. Thanks to Klingon honor, Klingons would be standing in line to kill me, and even say why they are there. They wouldn't want to kill me to get my job, they would try to kill me to stop my reign. And if they are to die in the process of removing me, they would do so gladly."

"Mistress, would it be a danger to you if it was found out how you are treating me, what kind of power and trust you have given me?"

"Who says that I trust you?" Torres asked, her voice dangerously low.

"Mistress, I... I could try to explain what makes me think that you trust me to a certain degree, but, the simple answer is; I know."

"Alright, you win. I give up."

"Mistress?" Seven asked, confused and not knowing what Torres was talking about.

"Go sit on the couch and look me in the eyes, Seven."

Hearing the Intendant address her as 'Seven,' Seven did as she was told and wondered what was going to change now, for that she knew certain, something was going to change.

Torres leaned forward and a little closer to Seven, "New rules. What we have covered up 'til now is from now on the base. The things you should think of when you do things, but we are going to simplify things quite some. I am your master, and you are my slave, my property. Can we agree to that?"

"Yes, mistress."

"No, forget about the mistress part for now. That sounds as if you are only answering this way because you think you must. I am asking you this, I am the master, and you are my property, can you agree to that?

"If you can't fully find yourself in that, then you will be placed with your friends and share their fate. Forget the game for a moment. You would still be a slave, you can't be anything else in this universe. But the fate of your friends and you would not be what it would be if you lost the game. I can't tell you yet what it would be, I would have to think about that. But you would not be killed right out."

"In that case, no. I can not accept the statement that I am your property."

Torres let herself drop back and rubbed her hands over her face. The blonde sure didn't make it easy. Any other slave would have jumped at the proposal, knowing that having the master/slave relationship brought back to one basic and main rule was an unparalleled freedom.

But, that was just the point, wasn't it? The blonde was not just another slave. That was why Torres sitting in her quarters making deals with a slave. Despite it all, she had enjoyed every minute she had spent with the blonde, and she wanted to make sure that she would continue to enjoy her time with the slave. The only way to truly make that possible was to talk to the slave instead of only order her around.

"But," Seven continued, "My objection is with the word 'property.' I am not, and will never be, anyone's property, save my own. I will not object you calling me such if somebody else is present, and if asked by somebody else I will even lie and say that I am your property.

"I will not endanger your position as my master in such a way. It is enough for me that we both know that in reality I am not your property. But if you would ask if I am yours, then my answer would be yes, completely. If you would ask if I truly see you as my master, than my answer would be yes, completely."

"And if I were to ask you to choose between me and your friends?"

"Then I would tell you that at this moment the asking party would lose."


"Meaning that if you would make me choose between you and my friends, then I would choose my friends. But if my Captain..."

"Former Captain," Torres interrupted. She didn't like the woman that apparently thought that she was an equal to the Intendant, 'Heck, Seven here is more equal to me that that woman.'

"If Captain Janeway," Seven answered diplomatically, "Were to order me to misuse my position, then I would not honor that command."

"Alright," Torres said, knowing that she was about to make a compromise with a slave, but also knowing that she didn't care in the least, "Can you then agree to the fact that I am your master and you are mine, that's it. You are mine to do with what ever I please?"

"Yes, B'Elanna, I can."

"What did you just call me?" Torres asked, leaning forward again.

"Mistress, you only call me Seven if you want to make clear just how serious you are, that you are talking to me as person, and not just as your slave. Is it than so wrong for me to say 'yes, B'Elanna' when I want to indicate that I am not merely giving the expected slave answer?"

Torres thought about that one, it seemed only fair... "I should not accept this, and even you know that. But, by now I have accepted so much that I shouldn't have. Alright, now, I know you know this, but I'm still going to say it, only call me that when we are alone."

"Of course, mistress."

"So, tell me Seven, if you are mine to do with what ever I please, would you lick my boots in front of your friends when I would tell you to?"

"Yes, mistress," Seven said without a doubt before asking her own question, "Would you ask?"

"No, I wouldn't," Torres was forced to admit. Suddenly, the Intendant started to grin wickedly, "Would you also have sex with a man if I told you to?"

"Yes, mistress, I would..." Seven said immediately and was glad to see the grin disappear at her answer, "...and after the man and I were finished, I would kill you for giving me such order. That, mistress, I promise you."

To Seven's surprise, the Intendant started to laugh so hard that she had to hold her sides and let herself fall to the side.

"Thank you, I needed that," Torres said several minutes later.

"I was being sincere, mistress. I would kill you if you gave me such order," Seven replied, thinking that the Intendant believed that she had been joking.

"I know Seven. I can't, and won't, promise you that I won't have to kill you at some point for whatever reason. But I can, and will, promise you that I will never tell or even ask you to do something like that. Nobody but me will ever touch you. I just wanted to see that your answer would be."

'I only hope that at some time you actually will touch me,' Seven thought.

"Anyway, back to your question," Torres said, changing the subject back to where it was before they got sidetracked, "No, it won't be a danger to me if it was found out how I am treating you. As far as powers are concerned, you really don't have anything different than other body slaves have. Only that your influence is extremely multiplied by the factor of me being Intendant.

"But I am not allowing you things what other body slaves are not allowed to do. Weeeell, I AM allowing you a lot of things that other body slaves would never be allowed to do. Heck, just having this conversation is such a thing. That is why you should behave differently in public than you are doing here. Just like I will behave differently in public. There I will punish you if I need to. Do only one tenth of what you have done in here and I will be forced to kill you."

"I know, mistress."

"Good. But, it will soon be common knowledge that the highest levels of the Klingon security department monitors what ever you do in my name. Everyone who bothers to find out just what you are allowed to do will also find out that the commander of the security department himself is monitoring the situation. They will be more than satisfied with that knowledge, and rightfully so."

Finding that she was getting a dry throat from talking, Torres stood and walked to the replicator. She replicated two drinks and handed one to the blonde. Seeing the total disbelief in those eyes while the slave took her drink hesitantly, Torres sighed, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I know. I replicated a drink myself, and I even replicated you one. Don't get used to it, you will still be doing this almost every time. But as you can see, this is not my normal drink. Sometimes telling you to get something, and also what to get, takes a lot longer than just getting the damn thing myself. I have been replicating my own drinks since I was two years old, I know how to do it, you know."

"Yes, mistress. Thank you," Seven lifted her glass slightly, indicating why she was saying 'thank you' this time.

"Right, well," Torres set down and sipped some of the sweet drink known as 'Bajoran nectar,' a drink that was absolutely delicious, if drank every once in a while. Otherwise, the body would build op resilience against the working ingredients of the drink, "As far as people finding out that I trust you, to a certain extent. That is actually expected. You don't make a slave your body slave and let her do things if you don't trust that slave, as far as you can trust a slave."

"I see."

"Now, I'm curious, my pet. Why did you ask that question? Why should you care if what I do is dangerous to me?"

"The well being of the Voyager crew is obviously very important to me, and your well being is obviously important in that. If something were to happen to you, it is almost certain that the Voyager crew would be split up and divided throughout the Coalition. That is the obvious reason, but it is not the only one. As I said before, I do not hate or despise you. Future behavior from you might change this, but for now I actually like you, mistress. And since I do, your well being is also important to me for that reason."

"I'm glad to hear it," Torres said before continuing with a little grin, "So that means that I don't have to worry about you killing me in my sleep."

Seven saw the grin and knew that the Intendant was joking. Apparently the Intendant had the tendency to joke a little from time to time in a conversation. Probably to make sure that the conversation didn't become too grim and gloomy.

"Killing a Klingon in her sleep is not honorable. Besides, it is not necessary, I can easily kill you while you are awake."

"Hmm, some day soon you will have to demonstrate to me just how strong you truly are."

"Someday soon I will, mistress," Seven agreed.

Seven had a feeling that the Intendant had covered all she wanted to cover in the conversation, a conversation that had been on an equal level. Seven suspected that conversations like the one she just had with the Intendant did sometimes occur between masters and body slaves, the position as body slave made almost certain that in a certain percentage the slave would become more to the master than just a property.

But Seven also suspected that conversations like this were also one of the coalition's best kept secrets. Things not talked about with others, things one would never admit to somebody else. Seven started to wonder why this conversation had happened. She also suspected that a conversation like the one she just had would be few and far between, so she decided to simply ask her question while she could.

"Mistress, may I ask what brought on this conversation?"

"You asking if it was a danger to me if people found out that I trusted you, and me then kinda denying that I trust you. Frankly I'm sick and tired of having to make threats, or pretend something you are saying isn't true, or both. So I simplified it by bringing it down to the essence. I'm the master, you're the slave... We established that, right?"

"Yes, mistress, I am yours, completely."

"Right, so from now on I don't have to threaten you or deny stuff. Admitting something you say is correct will not make you less mine, will it?"

"No, mistress."

"Well then, my pet, there you have your answer."

Torres played with her glass for a moment before asking, "Alright, now that we are having a conversation that a master and slave really shouldn't have, let me ask you something. What do you think of me calling you 'my pet' all the time?"

"I like it."

"That easy?"

"My name changed often enough for me to get easily acquainted to a new name. My original name was Annika Hansen. Then I was called Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One. After that, I was called Seven of Nine. And after that I was normally only called Seven, unless my name was used for official protocol reasons. I am yours, so the 'my' part is correct. And the pet part... I can not really explain that. I know that I should find it demeaning, but I do not. I simply like the way 'my pet' sounds when you say it."

"That's convenient then, because I like saying it. So, now that I am apparently temporarily insane, you got any questions you want to ask me?"

"I think you covered all that could be an issue, so no... yes."

"Well, which is it? No or yes?"

"Mistress, I have been wondering why you mention Voyager no where, why are you keeping her secret?"

"At first because I was figuring out what I wanted to do with the ship, if it would be worth saving. And after that I kept it secret because of the speed it can achieve. What did you say it was? Normal cruise warp 8. Maximum cruise 9.985. And top speed 9.992.

"We have nothing like that in the coalition, not even in secret test programs. You are actually now on the fastest coalition ship. My ship is also a test-bed for the newest engines. They figured that with all the traveling that I do, my ship would be the perfect place for a long duration test, and I certainly didn't object.

But even so, this ship's normal cruise is warp 7.5. Maximum cruise is 8.625. And the top speed is 9.132. As you can see, that ship you used to live on is capable of outrunning everything in the Coalition with close to an entire warp factor or more. You can understand that I would like to have that little advantage in my corner."

Torres thought if there was something else she wanted to cover but couldn't think of anything, "Alright, now you clean the mess you made and then we make a tour of the ship."

"The mess 'I' made?" Seven asked, knowing that the Intendant was talking about the broken glasses and the spilled drink.

"Of course, common practice, my dear, always blame the slave," Torres replied with a grin. She watched the slave get up and walk to the replicator, "Wait. I never use any of the replicators in my private quarters to replicate something to clean. I know that it is ridiculous, but I swear that my food tastes like soap afterwards. I have some cleaning supplies in the cabinet under the counter of the kitchen unit."

Torres waited until the blonde had found the cleaning supplies and had started cleaning up the mess before asking in an offhanded manner, "What would your answer have been to that statement if we hadn't just had our conversation?"

"My answer would have been: of course, mistress. Forgive me for making such a mess," Seven stopped cleaning for a moment and looked up to the Intendant, "And if somebody else had been present I would have kneeled down and said 'please forgive me' instead of 'forgive me.'"

"Very good. Very good indeed," Torres approved.

While the blonde finished the cleaning, Torres stood and started moving slowly to the door. She waited until her slave was standing beside her and took in the blonde's appearance, taking the time to enjoy the view. But that view soon reminded her of one final thing.

Torres reached up and softly caressed the blonde's cheek, "One more thing. In your universe, Klingons are known to enjoy their sex rough, this is the same here. Since you are my body slave, there are bound to eventually be insinuations to sex and your services to me. As long as this is done with enough respect to me and what is mine, you, I will actually go along with that. That means that you will have to go along with it too. If it comes down to the subject, I like it rough, hard, and fast, alright?"

"Yes, mistress. I will simply tell them the opposite of the truth."

Torres laughed at the blonde's statement, "Yes that will work."

That was another advantage of having a body salve. No pretense and acting. Simply enjoying what she liked the way she liked it, definitely not the way that was normally associated with Klingons. More the way that was normally associated with weak races. Having sex in a long, teasing, and slow way.

Maybe the next time she would tell the blonde how much more she could tease. Thinking that, she wondered when the next time would be that the slave offered to serve her. She hoped it would be soon. Because despite what the blonde had said, Torres still couldn't bring herself to actually order her slave to please her.

"Alright, you ready to be my humble slave again?" Torres asked, deciding that a distraction was in order.

"Yes, mistress."

"Let's move then," Torres said and walked out of the room.

Part 8

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