MAIN DISCLAIMER: See Prologue
Alternate Choices
By H.W.
Chapter 9
Torres and her slave had beamed down to the planet shortly before dusk set in. Wanting to use the opportunity to show her face in the city where her house was, Torres had opted to beam down to the beaming station in the city instead of straight into her home. And she had to admit that she also wanted to see the slave's reaction upon seeing the house which was located just outside the city.
Seven stopped and looked at the building that was the nerve center of the Klingon clan known as 'The House of Torres.' To say that it was big was an understatement; it was huge, existing out of a center part, a left and a right wing.
"Impressive?" Torres asked.
"It is... big," Seven answered neutrally.
Torres laughed at the answer, "It is pompous. It is six floors high and has more than three hundred rooms. But I didn't build it, I inherited it. An uncle of mine went slightly insane when his wife and five daughters left him for a Bajoran woman."
"Wife and five daughters?" Seven asked, "You mean that his wife went to live with another woman and she took her children with her?"
"Um, no. That wouldn't drive a Klingon crazy. Let's just say they shared the Bajoran woman equally."
Seven merely raised her eyebrow at that.
"I know. That must have been some woman; keeping up with six Klingon partners," Torres started walking through the front gardens towards the house. "Anyway, the Bajoran happened to be very wealthy and also happened to have a very big house. For some reason that I still don't understand, my uncle thought that his family had left him because the Bajoran had such a big house. So in an effort to get his family back he decided to build the biggest private house ever heard of at that time. He was sure that once his big house was finished his family would come back to him.
"Well, twenty years went by in which he built this house, tore it half down again because it wasn't exactly how he envisioned it should be, and then rebuilt it again; spending his entire fortune to build this thing. Apparently his family liked it on Bajor, for they never came back. I later found out that they didn't even know he was doing this."
"Why did he leave it to you?" Seven asked while she followed Torres up the broad walkway.
"Because I was the only one who ever told him that I thought he was nuts, ever since I saw the damn thing being built from the age of four. The rest of his extended family just waited for him to die to collect his credits. Once my uncle knew that he was dying, he finally realized that he would never get his family back. So he decided to leave this monster of a house to the only person who had said 'I told you so' from the beginning: me."
"What do you do with all the space?"
"I just use a little part of the main building for myself, the rest of the first three floors of the main building I use as the 'official' Intendant House, meaning that this is where guests stay and gatherings are held. The top three floors of the main building are the main offices of Torres' holdings. And the two side wings I let the servants use to live in."
"You have that many servants? I did not see any while on the ship," Seven asked surprised. In the days that she had been on the Intendant's ship, she had never seen a servant so she was surprised to find that here there were so many that they needed the two big wings of the house to live in.
Torres started to walk up the steps that led to the main entrance, "A space ship is by definition a relatively clean place to live. And as you could see, apart from leaving my uniform where ever I happen to strip, I don't make much of a mess. I have a few servants with me when I'm on the ship but they don't have much to do. They just come and clean the quarters once every week. You just haven't been there long enough to see them," Torres stopped once she reached the top of the stairs and turned around, indicating that Seven should do the same, "Despite him being nuts, he sure picked a great spot for the house."
Seven took in the view and found that she had to agree. While a part of the city could be seen to the right, which had an appeal of its own, the main part of the view was of the lands that belonged to the house. A big valley with a forest and in the center of it, there was a lake.
"But here," Torres continued, "Here two thirds of the servants are needed just to maintain the house and the lands. That combined with the fact that as Intendant, and as head of the Torres Holdings, certain things are simply expected. If I didn't have as many servants as I have now, people would start to wonder why and come up with the most bizarre reasons. It is a lot easier for me to just have the damn servants and forget about them."
Torres turned around and entered the building, she was already halfway across the huge entrance hall when she slowed down and her whole demeanor changed, clearly becoming very alert, "Something is wrong," She said when she saw that the blonde was about to say something, "A servant is always in this hall to welcome guests and such."
"Maybe the servant had to use the restroom for a moment," Seven offered, knowing that this was the reason lesser important post on Voyager were more than once abandoned for a few minutes.
"No, there..." But before she could say more, the blonde put a hand on Torres' shoulder and interrupted her.
"There are several persons waiting behind that door," Seven said while she indicated the door they were heading for. Seven put the setting of her enhanced hearing on maximum for a few seconds before returning it to its normal setting. But the few seconds had been more than enough, "And there are several people waiting behind the doors to the left and right of this entrance hall." Seven looked at the Intendant and remembered something, "Forgive me for interrupting you, mistress."
"For this, you are most certainly forgiven," Torres knew that she was caught in a trap, and she also knew that thanks to the warning of her slave, she could still escape out of the building. But... running away as a frightened slave child had never been her thing, no matter what the odds. So she moved to the middle of the entrance hall and lifted her voice, "Alright, you cowards, come out here and face me! If you want to attack me in my own home, at least have the courage to do so in the open!"
The three doors opened and a group of twenty-one Klingons came out, all armed with bat'leths. Torres only recognized one of them, "K'Trelan Erzian," She said with a voice loaded with contempt, "I thought I told you to never set foot on this planet again."
"But, dear cousin, is that any way to greet your family?"
"Considering what you did in an effort to get what our uncle left me, I think I'm being courteous."
By now, the Klingons had formed a circle around Torres and Seven and K'Trelan figured it was safe enough to come a little closer. But he still stayed outside of the circle, "Then I only wanted what should have been mine anyway. I spent twenty years kissing our uncle's ass, and when he finally croaks, he leaves everything to the person who just visits once every couple of months. But now, my dear cousin, I will take everything from you, including your life."
"Right, and you need twenty men to do it," Torres said with a snort, "Very honorable."
"Ah, but when this is over you will be dead from several bat'leth wounds, and I will be still alive, and my story is that I killed you in a honorable and fair fight. Nobody will be able to contradict me and stop me from claiming the Torres Holdings as mine."
"You are deluded, K'Trelan. I will spit on your corpse. Now, give me a bat'leth so that we can get this over with."
K'Trelan laughed and shook his head no, "You really think I'm that stupid? A bat'leth can still be put in your dead hands, making it clear to everybody that you used it during your pathetic attempt to defend yourself against my superior bat'leth skills."
Torres snorted, "Superior bat'leth skills, yeah right. You couldn't kill a Targ with a disrupter, let alone beat me in a bat'leth fight."
K'Trelan gave her a sneer, "Oh, I know that you are way better than me, but since there are no witnesses my story will be the only one, and therefore it will be the truth, K'Trelan pointed at Seven before continuing, "And you will step away now, I will have further use for you later."
"No."
"No?" K'Trelan repeated before addressing Torres again, "A slave that doesn't follow orders? See how weak you have become?"
"It's alright, my pet. Go," Torres didn't care about what K'Trelan was saying, but she saw a chance for the blonde to survive and despite the fact that she shouldn't care about the slave, she still wanted the blonde to stay alive. Torres knew that no matter how good she was, even she couldn't win a fight against twenty Klingons with bat'leths, being barehanded herself.
"No."
"Go on, Seven, move," Torres said, her slave sure picked her time to straight out disobey her.
"I will not."
"Seven, I just gave you an order," Torres growled.
"Then I guess that you will have to punish me later for disobeying your order, mistress."
"I've had enough of this," K'Trelan said irritated, the slave was ruining his perfect revenge on Torres. He pointed to the Klingon that was standing the closest to the slave, "You, kill the slave."
Then several things happened at one.
"No!" Torres moved to protect the blonde, but was stopped by the blonde holding a hand against her chest.
The Klingon brought his bat'leth down in a swing that was sure to split the slave's head.
And then everything was quiet for a moment while they all looked at the scene that none of them could believe. The slave had simply held up her mesh-covered hand and caught the bat'leth in mid air, stopping its desent dead in its tracks.
Seven was the first to move again, she used the hand that was holding the Intendant back to pull the bat'leth out of the shocked hands of the Klingon and hit him against his head with her mesh-covered hand.
For the first time since being severed from the collective, Seven didn't hold back. She put all the power of her enhanced body behind the punch.
The sickening crunching of a thick Klingon scull being close to pulverized filled the entrance hall, followed a second later by the sound of a lifeless body dropping to the floor.
Seven flipped the bat'leth around and offered the side with the grips to the Intendant, "Mistress, you asked for a bat'leth."
"Wha... what about you?" Torres asked, while she took the weapon.
"I think that I will soon have another one," Seven replied while she took a defensive stand at Torres' back.
And then, all hell broke lose when the other Klingons attacked after having lost precious seconds trying to wrap their brains around the fact that a normally weak human had just killed a Klingon as if it was nothing.
During the entire fight, Torres had a feral grin on her face. Moments before, she had been sure that she was going to die, but then her slave had turned things around and now she fully enjoyed the battle with her slave fighting at her back. The others had already lost the fight, they just didn't know it yet.
But Torres also knew that the battle would be over really soon, where she was actually enjoying the fight, the slave was dispatching one enemy after another in a frightening fast pace.
At one point, Torres saw two enemies coming at the slave in a way that it would never be possible for the blonde to kill the first and have her bat'leth ready to defend herself against the second attacker. Torres knew that she couldn't move fast enough to help the blonde, but, a fraction of a second later she saw that her help wouldn't be needed.
Seven saw two of them coming at her in a way that they were sure that she couldn't fight them both at once. And they were right, had she not possessed her Borg enhanced strength. Taking a hold on one of the end grips of the bat'leth, she swung the bat'leth at waist level as if it was a club, putting all her strength behind it, slicing the first Klingon's body into two parts, and burying her bat'leth deep in the second Klingon's abdomen. She followed that with a quick hit to his throat with her fist, crushing his windpipe.
"Seven," Torres said when she saw that there were only five opponents left, one of them being K'Trelan, "The rest are mine. But make sure that K'Trelan doesn't run like the coward he is."
"Yes, mistress."
Seven moved away from the battle and in the direction of the main door. But she stayed close enough to be able to help the Intendant if it was necessary.
The other Klingons were only too glad to let the slave leave and formed a small ring around Torres. But with there only being five of them this time, Torres looked forward to the rest of the fight. And when the first of them attacked, it still was over too quick for Torres' taste.
Soon the only enemy left was K'Trelan, who was quickly forced to his knees since he was such a lousy fighter. The only reason why he was the last to be alive was because he had kept himself at a slight distance all the time.
Seeing Torres raise her bat'leth in the air for the final strike, K'Trelan threw his own bat'leth away and pleaded, "No! Have mercy! Surely an honorable person like you wouldn't kill an unarmed man!"
"I have run out of mercy for you, burn in Gre'thor, you coward," Torres said before severing his head from his body in a final blow.
Seeing that all the enemies were dead, Seven came closer to the Intendant again, "Mistress, are you alright?"
Torres' answer was to grab the blonde and pull her closer for a rough kiss. But soon the roughness ebbed away and sensuality was left, lots of it.
Seven liked the rough kiss, it felt pleasant, but despite that, her brain wondered what was so special about kissing. Sure, it was nice but definitely not the experience she had expected from all the stories she had come across in her research. But then she felt the kiss change, felt the Intendant's tongue softly probing her lips begging for entrance. And once Seven allowed that entrance, suddenly her brain shut down and the sensation of a mind-blowing kiss was the only thing left in her life for a long minute.
Torres suddenly had to stop kissing the blonde when the woman dropped away, "Seven, are you hurt?"
There was no answer and for a moment Torres thought that the blonde was hurt in the fight. That was until she took in the slave sitting on her knees with eyes closed and an expression of true wonder on her face. Torres kneeled down in front of the blonde, took her hace between her hands and asked, "Hey beautiful, are you alright?"
Seven blinked her eyes several times before she was able to focus them on those of the Intendant, "Yes, I am fine. I am wonderful. Why do you ask?"
"Because you are sitting there on the floor acting as if you left your brain on the ship."
"I am sitting on the floor?" Seven looked down and saw that she was indeed doing just that, "It appears that my knees were not able to hold me upright."
"Because of the fight?"
Seven looked back up to the Intendant before softly shaking her head no, "Because of the kiss. Can we do that again?"
Only too happy to oblige, Torres leaned in and kissed the blonde. Now that the excitement of the battle had ebbed away some, and especially now that the blonde was kissing her back in such a slow sensual way, Torres understood what the blonde meant. For a moment, she too forgot everything around her. "Bu... now I know why you are sitting on your knees," Torres said when they finally broke apart, "If you had kissed me back like that the first time, I think I would have been sitting on my knees before you."
"Mistress, will you kiss me more often now?" Seven hoped that it hadn't been a one time thing. She liked what the Intendant's kisses did to her.
Torres leaned in for another kiss, but only a little one this time, "Definitely, my dear. But only if we are alone."
"Of course," Seven said while she got up. She felt slightly hurt and firmly reminded that she was only a thing to the Intendant, "It would not do to have the Intendant kiss a slave in public."
Torres got up too. She was still a bit dazed and therefore the reaction of the blonde didn't quite register fully with her, which was a good thing because if it had, her answer would most probably have been a defensive one. But now, she answered with the first thing that came to her mind, the truth, "That has nothing to do with it, my dear. I would love to kiss you in public, but it wouldn't do to have the Klingon Intendant stand rooted to the spot for a few minutes after kissing her slave."
Seven digested that answer and started smiling.
Torres saw the smile, "Stop smiling like that," She said with a fake glare before taking in the carnage around them. "Come on, let's see if we can find where they kept the servants, knowing K'Trelan, he wouldn't have killed them, hoping to make some money off of them by selling their contracts to the highest bidder."
Stepping over one of the dead Klingons, Torres looked over to the blonde, "At least now I know how strong you are. Damn."
"As Voyager's B'Elanna would say; they pissed me off, trying to take what is mine."
'What is yours?' Torres thought while she turned around and walked the last few steps backwards to the door that she had been heading to when she walked into the building, once again taking in the dead bodies. Her eyes fell on the Klingon with the crushed skull and then the one who now existed in two parts, "Hey, Seven?"
Seven was the first through the door and hearing the Intendant speak, she turned around to her, "Yes, mistress?"
"You know something?" Torres turned around and also walked through the door.
"Yes?"
"I'm sure glad I didn't piss you off."
"Who says that you have not?" Seven asked, walking on.
"Wha..." Torres asked, before catching up with the blonde and seeing the faint smile, "Oh, very funny."
Seven moved through another door and then turned in the direction Torres indicated, "Mistress, I am sorry I had to disregard your order, but I was not going to let you fight such an unfair battle alone."
Torres took hold of Seven's arm and stopped walking, "That's right you did. I have to punish you for that. Despite why you did it, I can't let you get away with ignoring my order. So, because you did that, you will lose all points that you had built up 'til now. You are now back to zero points. Lose one more point and all your friends die. You got that?"
"Yes, mistress," Seven sighed, knowing that she had put the Voyager crew in danger again, but despite that, she also knew that she had done the right thing.
"Alright then," Torres continued, "But, for helping me, you also deserve a very big reward. And my reward to you is 140 points. Congratulations, my dear. The game is over and you win. For now, your friends will continue to repair the space ship, and once that is done, I will see where I can place them, as a group."
"Thank you, mistress."
"No; thank you, Seven."
"Mistress?"
"Yes?" Torres asked while she slowly started to walk again.
"May I ask you for a favor?"
"You may ask, but that is all."
Seven was quiet for a moment while Torres opened a room to see if somebody was inside; there wasn't, "Mistress, could it be possible that I can speak with B'Elanna today? Voyager's B'Elanna?"
"Why?" Torres asked while she checked another room.
"I need to talk with someone about what I just did."
Another room was checked and this time they found somebody, an unconscious male Trill. "One of my housekeepers," Torres explained while she bent down and checked the man's pulse. Finding it strong and steady, "As I suspected, they just sedated them, one advantage of me only hiring people on long term contracts. Those are the kind of contracts that can be sold under the right circumstances. Let's move on."
Torres moved back into the corridor and checked room after room, finding more and more sedated people. All the while, she continued her conversation with the blonde, "You mean the fighting, or the killing?"
"The killing, mistress."
"And you can't talk about this with me?"
"I am afraid not. You would tell me that it was the right thing to do, that I should be proud of the amount of enemies I killed."
"That I would," Torres had to agree.
"On Voyager, I have come to value B'Elanna's view on such things. Mistress, I really need to hear what she thinks of what I did, please."
"Alright, we'll take a look around here, and when we have a working staff again, I will contact the ship to tell them that we are leaving tomorrow instead of tonight. And when it is time to retire for the night, I will have her beamed down here so that you two can talk. I think I will have the master slave come down too; I need to have a little talk with her. I can do that while you are talking to my counterpart, sound good? You can wait a couple of hours?"
"Yes, mistress, thank you."
"Don't mention it, and I mean that," Torres replied with a grin. "Let's go find us some staff first then."
B'Elanna awoke from somebody knocking on the door to their room. She looked over to Annika and saw her standing beside the bed.
The blonde gestured for B'Elanna to get up too, "A guard. Get up, and stand by your bed."
"I'll sit. I think they will accept that, being that I'm just out of sickbay today."
Before Annika could say anything, the guard entered and pointed to them both, "The Intendant wants to see you, come."
Even though B'Elanna thought that she could walk to wherever they were going, she decided to play it safe and went to sit in the hover chair, "It must be in the middle of the night. She sure knows to pick her time."
The guard backed away a little to give B'Elanna some room, "It is thirty minutes to midnight and I suspect that the Intendant doesn't want to wait a long time to see you, so get moving," The guard pointed to Annika and told her to show him her knives.
"Do you need to take possession of them?" Annika asked while she pulled her sleeves up her arms enough to show the knives.
"No need, I just had to see that you still had them. Now come."
They followed the guard out of the room and saw only a few other people, looking at what was going on, before they headed in the direction of the force fields. Once they were through the force fields, B'Elanna looked to her side and actually saw Annika nervously rub her hands, "What's the matter?"
Annika looked down to the sitting woman for a moment before answering, "One is not normally brought to the Intendant at this time of day. People who are, normally are never seen again."
"Really?" B'Elanna asked.
It was the guard who answered, not wanting to let an opportunity to frighten some slaves go by, "Definitely. I have heard that the last slave that was brought to the Intendant's quarters around this time, left those quarters in four pieces. And you are even being brought to the planet. I sure wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now."
Less than twenty minutes later they materialized, hover chair and all, inside a room on the planet. B'Elanna looked around the sparse room and saw Seven and the Intendant standing by a door. The room only held some chairs that were standing against the walls and B'Elanna suspected that the sole purpose of the room was for it to be used as a known and fixed beaming point for people that were beamed straight into the Intendant's home.
B'Elanna took in how Seven looked and saw some stains on the blue catsuit that were clearly dried blood, "What have you done to her?!" B'Elanna asked before she realized that the blood stains were of the pinkish color; Klingon blood.
The Intendant didn't answer that question, but instead she gave Seven a little push, "Go on, my pet. While you two talk, I will have a little word with the master slave."
Severn took a few steps forward and then stopped. Her eyes found those of Annika Hansen and for a moment, their eyes locked. Seven wanted to say something, but didn't know what. It felt too strange even for her. Knowing that the person she was looking at was herself, down to the smallest part of her DNA. But yet... their lives had been totally different. The Borg never assimilated this Annika Hansen, she didn't have to live with the memories of what the Borg had done to billions of lives in those eighteen years.
But on the other side, Annika had lived those years as a conscious person; knowing each day that she was only a slave, only a possession, a thing. Seven wondered who of them had lived the better life? The one who had lived those years as a conscious slave or the one who had lived those years as an emotionless drone, but now remembered all that she did in those years. Seven couldn't say who of them had been the lucky one.
Torres came closer and put a hand on Seven's back, "Come on, we don't have all day. We have to start our journey to Bajor tomorrow, I can't postpone that another day."
Seven nodded her head and walked to a different door than where she and the Intendant had just entered through, "B'Elanna, please follow me."
With a quick look to Annika, B'Elanna did as Seven had asked and followed her into the other room, leaving the Intendant and Annika alone.
"Sit."
The command was short, but Annika reacted immediately by sitting down on the floor.
"Not on the floor," Torres said annoyed, "There are twenty damn chairs in this room, use one."
Annika hesitated for a moment but then got up and moved to one of the chairs. She looked to Torres before sitting down though, wondering if it was truly alright to do so. Normally slaves never sat in the presence of a master, and certainly not in the presence of somebody like the Intendant.
Torres watched the slave sit down insecurely and kept looking at her for a few minutes after she had done so. Finally, she got up and moved a little closer to the slave.
Annika saw the Intendant get up and immediately stood up herself.
"Did I tell you to get up? Sit your ass down!"
Annika once again did as she was told.
"Now, get up."
Annika did so and followed every command that the Intendant gave her after that, in quick succession.
"Sit, stand up, sit, get down on the floor, get up and sit in the chair again."
Torres looked at the slave with a little shake of her head and started slowly walking around the room, "I think that my little vixen was right." Suddenly Torres turned to Annika again, "Strip, get on your hands and knees and prepare to service me."
Annika's eyes went wide at the command. Until now, she had always been able to get by without having to do the kind of services the Intendant clearly wanted. But Annika knew that this was one Klingon she could not try to outsmart. So knowing that she had no other option, she started to open her uniform, only to be stopped once again.
"Stop that," Torres said before sitting down in a chair again, "Don't you know that your counterpart in there is my body slave?"
"I do, Intendant."
"Then you, as master slave, should also know that I'm not allowed to have sex with any other slave during the time that she is my body slave."
"I know, Intendant."
"Then why did you start to strip?"
Annika didn't understand that question, "Intendant? I... You... I followed your command."
"Are you talking back to me?"
"N..." Annika only barely stopped herself from saying 'no.' One did not disagree with the Intendant. So instead she answered the always right answer, "Please forgive me."
"You are nothing like her," Torres said before getting up again and pointing at Annika, "You, stay seated." Torres started moving through the room again and started to address Annika without looking at her, "You look like her, you sound like her, you even smell just like her." Torres turned to Annika again, "But you know what? You would bore me after only a couple of hours. You would never be able to see me as anything else than the Intendant whose every word you have to obey. You would never dare to look me in the eyes. Heck, you wouldn't even dare to look me in the eyes when you would be pleasuring me and had me lying, begging, beneath you."
Annika's eyes shot up to look at the Intendant at that last statement.
"Well, at least that got your attention," Torres said while sitting down, "Your counterpart in there was right, I don't want to lose her. I don't want a puppet on a string."
Annika wondered what the Intendant's monologue was all about. She knew the old saying about the puppet, and what it meant. But she couldn't understand why the Intendant was telling her all of this. And apparently the Intendant realized that at the same moment.
"Forget about it. And that's an order. Nothing of what I just said is ever going to leave this room, or else."
"Yes, Intendant."
"Alright then, listen up, a change of subject. How well are you getting along with the slaves you have been put with?"
Annika was surprised by that question. It was not something normally asked. Normally she was placed with a group and just had to deal with it, "Well, I, um, I don't see any problems. There is the normal tension of their leaders having to suddenly listen to me. But I don't think that this will take long."
"Ah, yes, the redhead woman who keeps calling herself 'captain,' am I right?"
"Yes, Intendant."
"Well, I must say that she is also testing my patience. But unfortunately she is part of that group and therefore also part of the game. You see, my little pet in there and I played a game. The stakes were the lives of the crew she arrived with. If she lost, I would kill them all, and if she won, I would give them a relatively easy life. And since my pet won, I can't kill the redhead without a good reason. So for now you just have to live with her."
"Yes, Intendant."
"But don't let her push you around. You are in command, not her. If she makes too much trouble, there is nothing that says that you can't introduce her to those things strapped to your arms. Just don't kill her or wound her too bad."
"I'm sure that she and I will come to an understanding, one way or the other."
"Alright. Now, I promised my pet that I would keep the others together as a group. So, master slave, this is your last command position. You are appointed to them indefinitely, so it will be to your advantage if you can actually get along with the rest of them."
"Yes, Intendant."
"At some point, I will have to deal with them; send them somewhere. I intend to keep my promise to my pet, so wherever they are going they will have an easy life of it... for slaves that is. You will stay with them no matter what, that's an order that can only be retracted by me personally face to face. No message, no view screen, no order from somebody else, only from me, and only face to face. Clear?"
"Yes, Intendant."
"Well now, since my pet is still talking, I saw your eyes when I ordered you to please me, clearly you have not yet had to do that. I wonder how you, being a blonde slave, managed that."
"It... has... been tried... several times," Annika hesitantly admitted. It felt strange to be having a conversation with the Intendant, "But luckily, a body slave once gave me a good tip that prevented me from being violated: Almost all Klingons who force themselves on slaves, that are not body or sex slaves, want those slaves to fight them. They want the slaves to cry, beg, and plead, to resist being used. They love that. So the best way to prevent them from going all the way is by simply doing what ever they tell you to do."
"Like you were doing a moment ago."
"Yes, Intendant." Annika admitted, "Most Klingons lose the mood if I react that way. As they say, they want a live one, not a bag of bones."
"What is the most that has ever been done to you?"
"Against my will?"
"Of course, I'm not interested in how you like to be fucked when you want to be fucked."
"Normally they already have enough when I simply take my clothes of if they tell me to. But, a few times, they placed a hand between my legs. After getting no reaction to that, they always stopped."
"Listen, since I promised my pet that those slaves would be treated fairly, if something like that ever happens to one of them, no matter who, you will tell me who did it," Torres reached into one of her uniform pockets and threw a little metal ornament to Annika, "If you ever need to contact me for what ever reason, show that to the guards. When they see that, they won't dare not to give you the opportunity to do so. If those slaves are assaulted or mistreated in a way what places them in sickbay for more than one day, I want to hear about it, clear?"
"Yes, Intendant."