SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTES: Since we get to know a little more about the Intendant from here on out, I found myself in the position where I also wanted to call her something else besides 'the Intendant'. However, I also wanted to make it easy to see difference between the Intendant and Voyager's B'Elanna Torres. Because of this I decided to make use of the fact that the name B'Elanna Torres consists of two usable parts. So from here on, I will use the name 'Torres' for the Intendant, and the name 'B'Elanna' for Voyager's B'Elanna Torres.

Alternate Choices
By H.W.

Chapter 3

The following day Intendant Torres woke to the sight of her new slave standing against one of the walls looking off into nothing. She took a moment to take the blonde in, "I don't like what I see."

Blue eyes went to the Intendant immediately and Seven came closer until she was standing beside the bed, "Mistress?"

Torres moved back a little until she was sitting against the headboard, "You are still naked, yet you're not here in the bed. You're just standing around. I don't like it at all."

Seven didn't know what to do. Was the Intendant telling her to get into the bed, or was she telling her to get dressed? Her unease must have shown because Torres continued to explain.

"I want you to do what ever I tell you to do, but I don't what to have to tell you every move you should make. I want you to act on your own, to a certain degree. As soon as I tell you to do something, you do it. For instance, I want to tell you go get something for me, but I don't want to have to tell you to get up, walk to a certain place, get what I want, and come back. You did it the right way last night. I told you what I wanted and you did it. But I didn't have to tell you how to move your tongue or when to use your fingers. I want to give you an order and it is up to you how you fulfill it. You understand?"

"I believe I do. But I fail to see how this affects my current state of dress."

"Why are you naked?"

"Because I do not know if you need my services again."

"I went to sleep last night, that was a good sign that I wouldn't need your 'services' again for at least a couple of hours. It's ok to get dressed then. If I had needed your 'services' again this morning, I would simply have told you to strip. Got it?"

"I believe I do."

"Don't believe, know."

"Yes, Mistress. Should I dress my self now?"


While Seven went to the adjacent bathing room to retrieve her bio-suit, Torres got up herself and looked around for her uniform. Not seeing it, she realized where she left it and shouted after her slave; "Get my uniform while you're in there."

Torres was standing beside the bedroom replicator when Seven came back, "Come over here." The Intendant waited until the now fully dressed blonde was standing beside her before she continued, "I don't believe in having a slave dress me, it takes longer than when I do it my self, and my clothes fit better if I my self put them in the right place. However, from now on it is your task to make sure that every morning there is a clean uniform waiting for me. You take my old uniform, take these decorations off, put it in the replicator and choose clothes cycle one, on this replicator," While Torres was explaining this, she was also showing it by replicating her uniform, "I saw replicators on that ship of yours so don't tell me you don't know how to use them."

"Yes, Mistress."

"I worked very hard for those decorations, the Chancellor didn't make me Intendant on the mere fact that I'm adopted family. I earned that title. These are the original decorations, if you forget to take even one of them off and I have to replicate it, you will de severely punished."

"Yes, Mistress, I will not forget."

Torres started getting dressed and realized that the blonde was wearing the same clothes as the day before, "I will also put some patterns in the replicator for clothes for you. I expect you to change whenever I do. You will always do what I do. If I bath, you bath, if I eat, you eat. If I change clothes, you change clothes. I also expect you to always be in the same room as me, unless I tell you otherwise. So from now on I'm not going to tell you anymore that you should follow me. If I move from one room to another, you will follow."

"Yes Mistress," Seven realized that she had already stopped seeing B'Elanna in the woman in front of her; she had become Intendant Torres. For a moment Seven wondered if she shouldn't be resisting the woman more. But she decided that this would not be the right move. The best course of action was to wait until she got the chance to help the Voyager crew in some way. She would not help the crew by testing the Intendant's patience, "Mistress?"

Torres tugged her uniform straight before looking over to the blonde, "Yes?"

"This suit is called a bio-suit. There is technology incorporated in it that interacts with my implants. Wearing these suits allows me to go seventy-two hours without regenerating. If I were to wear normal clothes I would have to regenerate more often, but more importantly, my implants would need twice as much maintenance."

They left the bedroom and headed to a small room attached to it. Seven noticed that the Intendant's quarters were basically divided into two parts. The main section that she had seen the day before when entering the quarters, and a more private part that, as far as she had seen till now, consisted out of a bathing room, a sleeping room, and the room they were in now. It was a combination of a cooking area and a resting area. For a moment it looked as if the Intendant was going to sit on one of the couches, but then she changed her mind and sat down at the table at the side of the cooking area.

"Who made the clothes you are wearing now?"

"The Doctor designed this and two other suits."

"The Doctor? That bald hologram?" Torres asked surprised. "Get me program thirty-nine from the replicator and get yourself the same. You will always eat the same as I. And when we are alone you are allowed to sit when you are not doing something I ordered you to do. But if I have a guest, or if someone enters and it seems that they are staying longer than just a moment, I expect you to get up quietly and go stand out of direct sight against a wall," Torres waited until Seven was sitting at the table before continuing, "I will give the hologram some clothing patterns for the clothes I would like you to wear; he can incorporate the needed technology into them."

They ate in silence until the Intendant was finished eating. She looked over to Seven's plate and saw still half of the food on the plate, "Stop eating. Whenever I am done, you are done. I don't care if you still have something left or not."

"Yes, Mistress."

Seven put her fork down just a little too quick for the Intendant liking, "Once I'm done you clean everything up. Don't wait for me to leave the table or something. When I get up to go somewhere, I expect you to be ready to go too. And that goes for everything."

"Yes, Mistress," Seven got up and put the plates and utensils back in the replicator. Once done she went back to the table and sat down, but not before looking at Torres to see if it was alright to do so.

The Intendant nodded her head slightly to indicate that Seven had acted correctly. "Stop saying 'yes Mistress' all the time," Torres continued the conversation from a moment before, "If you keep that up I will be tired of hearing it by tomorrow. Just keep it for when I ask you something. If I tell you something, lets just assume that you got it. However, if you don't understand something; tell me. It would be a shame if I had to punish you simply because you misunderstood something."

Torres got up and moved to one of the couches. She noticed that the blonde didn't move with her and was about to say something about it when she realized that a little earlier she had told the slave that she could be seated, she had not told her that she had to be as close as possible. The Intendant thought for a moment about adding that little part to the rule but then decided against doing so, 'The fewer rules I make for her, the fewer rules I have to keep track of.' She closed her eyes for a moment, mentally going over the task that lay ahead.

She had to meet the Klingon Chancellor in two days, but for the rest there were only unimportant things, things that could easily be postponed until after her visit with the Chancellor. So if she wanted, she had two free days on her hand. Time to play with her new toy, and the ship that toy had arrived on. She opened her eyes and found the slave looking at her, "What?"

Having been caught staring, Seven quickly looked away, "Forgive me, Mistress. I am not used to having noting to do. While I was on Voyager, I was either working or regenerating."

"Get used to it." Torres knew the golden rule, keep slaves uneducated, and they are less likely to cause trouble. That was why slaves were normally only trained in one thing. Of that one thing they would know everything there is to know about it, but have them do something else and they would be hopelessly lost. Put a farmer slave on a field and he would get the highest yield out of it, but put that same slave in a house to clean and he wouldn't even be able to clean the windows. The only exceptions to this were the engineering slaves. Since they had to work on so many different things, they were trained in a broader spectrum; everything having to do with engineering.

So it only stood to reason that one should have a body slave learn nothing except what pleased her master. But the thing was that this blonde slave had not grown up as a slave. She already knew a lot. She was already smart. There was no changing this and it could be a mistake to disregard it. It would be a lot better to use it, "On second thought, I will give you something to read later on. It is the history of this universe. The history of the Klingons from the moment we started to walk upright, and also the history how three hundred years ago the Sol Empire started to form, and how we eventually defeated them.

I want you to study all of this in great detail. When I ask you a question about history, I expect to hear the right answer. If you are wrong, you will be punished. Why did you eat so little? Didn't you like the food?" The last two questions had come out without Torres really realizing it. Why would she care if a slave liked her food? The blonde should be happy to get food in the first place.

"Klingon food is normally too... strong for me," Seven started since that was the reason why she ate so slow, but not why she ate so little, "But I normally do not eat much because regenerating takes care of a lot of my bodily functions, including imbuing my body with energy."

The Intendant seemed to understand this and slightly nodded her head, "Alright, I can accept you not eating much for that reason. But you will eat what I eat, and you also will eat when I eat. Now, get over here and sit down."

Seven went to the second couch, the one across from the Intendant and sat down on the place the Intendant had pointed to.

Torres looked Seven in the eyes for a long moment and finally asked, "Why are you so submissive?"


"Yesterday you overpowered me, no small feat by any means, and you even threatened to kill me," Torres explained, "And then suddenly last night you turn around as if someone threw a switch and now your all 'yes Mistress.' Why? I expected more of a challenge from you. Don't tell me that I have broken you, I did nothing that would even come close to breaking someone like you."

Seven thought for a moment about how to answer that. There were several answers she could give, all of them true. Finally she decided on an answer, keeping in mind that the Intendant had thought she would be a challenge, "No, you have not broken me. However, you have my fellow crewmembers under your control, you are the only one that can save our B'Elanna Torres, and you have the means to have Voyager repaired. You are more likely to help on these matters if you are pleased. Annoying you, at this point would be... unwise."

"Hmm, I see your point," Torres agreed. "So you will double-cross me when you get the chance?"

"My priority lays with Voyager and her crew," Seven started slowly, she knew she was treading a fine line between telling the Intendant too much, and not telling her enough. If she told the Intendant too much, then it would be too easy for the Intendant to counteract what ever plan Seven would come up with in the future, but is she didn't tell the Intendant enough, then the Klingon would think that Seven was already planning something and be suspicious of every thing the blonde would do. "In this universe, at this point in time, you are actually the best hope for them. The Klingons are the most powerful race here. You as Klingon Intendant are one of the most powerful Klingons here. There is no reason to double-cross you. I would always get less than I have now."

"At some point I have to decide what I'm going to do with the rest of your crew. I won't be able to hold them over your head as leverage forever. What is there to keep me from just simply killing them all?" The Intendant had smiled while asking that, but it certainly hadn't been a nice smile.

"Their safety is the one thing you have over me. If they were dead, there would be nothing to stop me from killing you."

Torres laughed when she heard the slave's answer. She liked the blonde's honesty. Oh, she knew that the slave was choosing her words very precisely, and that there were things she was keeping for herself. But still, maybe having a smart slave wasn't that bad after all, "You really think that you would be able to kill me? There are some very nice cells I could put you in. You would never get close to me."

"I would escape, and I would reach you."

Though she didn't show it, Torres was impressed with the confidence she had heard in the blonde's statement. "Well," She said still amused, "Let's hope we never have to find out. It would be a shame to lose you. I was very impressed with your services last night. Which reminds me, what changed last night? In the duration of one minute, you went from being a huge disappointment to giving me the best lay I ever had, doing things to me that even I didn't know I could do or would like."

"You just said yourself that you have not broken me. I think that the day will come where I tell you what happened last night. But for now, I will not tell you."

Suddenly Torres was up from the couch and had a hand at Seven's throat, "You will answer me right now!"

For a few minutes nothing happened, Torres was depriving Seven of air to breathe, while Seven just kept sitting there, looking up at the Intendant. Finally the Klingon applied some more force, and then let go with a growl, "I should kill you right now! I can't believe I put up with this shit!" Torres started pacing back and forth in the room, thinking about how to handle the situation.

Seven was about to say something, but realized that she should not be sitting on a couch with her master pacing around. She got up and moved to block the Intendant's way. Before Torres could say or do anything, Seven sank to a kneeling position on the floor and lowered her eyes, "Mistress, I could have told you a lie. I did not. Please, Mistress, if you allow me not to answer on some questions. I will swear to you that I will never deceive you, and at some point, when I am ready, I will remind you of your question and answer it."

Torres grabbed some of Seven's hair and forced the blonde's head up until she was looking at the Intendant, "I can't believe that a slave is giving me terms," Then she pushed Seven's head away and went back to sit on the couch. Once seated, she pointed to the floor in front of her, "Get over here," The Intendant waited until Seven was kneeling in front of her before leaning back, "And I also can't believe that I'm actually inclined to listen. But if I really want to suggest my plans to the Coalition Counsel this might be a good training."


"Never mind, maybe at some point when 'I'm' ready I will tell 'you' what I'm talking about," Torres let the slave's words go through her mind again, and realized something, "You said that you wouldn't deceive me. But that means that if you say things in just the right way that you can still lie to me."

"Yes Mistress, but this is only because certain questions could be asked in such a way that my saying that I will not answer, would be an answer in and of itself. I want to prevent this from happening."

"Very well, slave. I accept your deal. But, pull anything like you just did in front of my men, and I have to kill you just to retain my authority."

"I know this, Mistress. And I will not."

Torres was about to tell the slave to go sit on the couch again when she decided that she kinda liked having the slave sit in front of her like that. She opened her legs and motioned the slave closer until she was kneeling between the Intendant's legs. Seeing the look in the slave's eyes she had to laugh, "Don't worry slave, you don't have to service me right now. But you are my pet, and I'm in the mood to pet you. Let your hair down."

Seven did as she was told and freed her hair. As soon as she had, Torres grabbed the slave's chin and forced her head up with a surprisingly soft touch.

"This looks better on you; from now on you leave your hair like this." The Intendant let go of Seven's chin and started to move her fingers through the blonde hair, "Mmm, nice. Klingons don't have soft hair like this. You are one very fine slave."

Seven didn't really know what she should do. What the Intendant was doing to her felt nice; she liked the feeling of fingers running through her hair. But it also seemed strange to be kneeling in front of someone and be looking at the cloth-covered place she visited so thoroughly the night before. Finally she decided to just close her eyes and enjoy. Only a minute later her head was leaning against the Intendant's thigh, eyes closed, while enjoying the feeling of the Intendant's fingers caressing her scalp. But then her thoughts started to roam and she remembered something very important, "Mistress?"


"Forgive me for bringing this up, but the state of affairs considering Voyager's B'Elanna Torres health deteriorates with every passing day. Have you considered helping her?"

Torres' fingers stopped for a moment but almost immediately continued, "Actually it's good that you've reminded me of that. I was about to explain the reward and punishment system I have thought up for you. But first answer me this, why are you so concerned about her? Are you both lovers?"

"The relationship between us is, complicated. But no, we are not lovers. I told you last night that I have never been with anyone."

Torres took hold of Seven's chin one again and lifted it, "But you want her to be your lover?"

"I want her to be my friend," Seven corrected, "B'Elanna Torres is the chief Engineer onboard Voyager. She had been maintaining Voyager for four years when I came onboard. Even though she did an excellent job of maintaining Voyager, I had several suggestions on how to enhance the ship. The captain ordered some of those suggestions implemented and the Lieutenant felt threatened by me because of it. I assume she feared that the captain would soon make me Chief of Engineering.

I on the other hand did not understand why the Lieutenant was being so difficult, it was highly inefficient. Soon a hostility started to form between us that has lasted for several years. But the last half year this slowly changed to a mutual respect for another, and the last couple of weeks we were moving in the direction of being friends. I think we already are friends in some way, just that neither of us has actually said the word."

"Very interesting," Torres said, and Seven could hear that the Intendant actually meant it, "But that still doesn't answer my question. You want her to be your lover?"

"I think that B'Elanna and I could become very close friends, but not partners. There is something I want from a partner that I know B'Elanna would never do. No, I do not want her to be my lover."

"What do you.." Torres stopped talking when Seven raised her head and looked the Intendant in the eyes.

"Please, Mistress. Do not ask me what it is that I want. Not yet," Seven lowered her eyes again, but straightened up a little, fully expecting the Intendant to explode again.

But instead of exploding, the Intendant softly put Seven's head back against her thigh and started to run her fingers through the blonde hair again, "You are making it very hard for me not to beat some sense into you, slave. But I have a feeling that you have a very high tolerance for physical pain." Torres moved her hand until she was caressing Seven's cheek, "Besides, I like your flawless skin in tact. So here is what I will do. I'm a firm believer of that if you punish slaves, you should also reward them from time to time. And here is my reward and punishment system for you. Look at me."

The Intendant waited until those azure colored eyes found hers, "The crew that you were a part of consisted out of 139 people. From now on, each of their lives represents one points. So that means that you have 139 points to work with. You will start with zero point. Every time you do something that I think should be rewarded you get an amount of points I deem a fair reward. That could be one point, but that could also twenty points. As soon as you have more than 139 points, the others live. They are still my slaves, but I won't order them killed and will see at that point what I will do with them. But what ever it is, it won't be work that still gets them killed. So 140 points or more buys the lives of your friends. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress," Seven confirmed, not breaking the eye contact.

"Good. That is the reward part, now comes the punishment part. Whenever you do something that I think you should be punished for, you lose points. This also can very from one point till twenty at one time. And from now on, whenever you don't tell me something, like you have already done twice now, you will loose one point for it; having zero points is the bottom line. If you lose even one more point after you have nothing left, you pay with the life of your friends. They will all be killed at that point. I won't tell you all the time how many points you have, make, or lose; I keep track of that in my head. But I do promise you that I will be fair and keep an honest score. Understand?"

Yes, Mistress."

Torres let her hand drop to Seven's shoulder and patted it softly, "I want a drink. From now on, if I don't specify what I want, then I want you to get me drink pattern one. And again, if I drink something, you drink too. You will have the same as me. Get my drink, but keep listening."

The Intendant waited until the slave had reached the replicator before she continued, "This reward and punishment system starts from now on. But there is one thing we have to deal with first. I'll gladly admit that you gave me the best lay of my life last night," Torres took the drink Seven handed her and was glad to see that the slave went to sit between her legs again, not as close as she had been, but still close enough that the Intendant had to open her legs to give the slave some room, "I hope that you keep being so good by the way... which reminds me, why is it that someone who has never been with anyone, is so good in giving pleasure?"

Seven took a sip from the drink, expecting it to be some strong Klingon beverage, and was surprised to find that it was the beverage that was known on Voyager as prune-juice, "At some point during my stay on Voyager, I did some research into the mating rituals of several people on the ship. I noticed that each species had different rituals, and this also made me curious as to whether there were also differences in actual copulation techniques between species. So I researched everything I could find on the subject, including what pleasured the different species. Since B'Elanna Torres was one of the people I studied, I also researched all I could find in the database about Klingons."

"Ah, remind me to thank my counterpart in making you curious enough to research this. Anyway, as I was saying, because of last night, I will reward you by having the best Klingon doctors look at my counterpart. And as long as it doesn't harm me, I will allow them to clone from me whatever is needed to heal her. However, she will still be one of those 139 people."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Mmhmm, don't thank me too quickly. Remember, you are at zero points right now. So that means that as soon as you doe something wrong now; or even don't answer one of my questions all the slaves will be killed. Doesn't sound really fair now, does it?"

"No, it does not."

"Well, that is one of the differences between being a master and being a slave. As master I CAN do what ever I want. As slave you HAVE to do what ever I want. But, you are in luck, if you only have zero points than the game is over too quick. So I give you the opportunity to earn twenty points right now by promising something."

"Mistress?" Seven took another sip from her drink, making sure that she kept the same level as Torres did. She suspected that one of, if not THE, reason why the Intendant told her to drink and eat when she did, was because the Intendant didn't like eating alone. For Seven, the best way to be sure that she was eating when the Intendant was and not already finished when the Intendant was only half way was by keeping the same pace as Torres.

"All over coalition space, the penalty for slaves trying to escape is death. Only if they actually succeed in escaping and are captured again is it up to the master to decide their punishment and might it be possible for the slaves to continue living. Now, I know that you can't escape, but that doesn't mean that you can't try.

"Now that I have taken a body slave, it would be a shame to lose you anytime soon. So, you can start with zero points and hope that you make some points soon, or you can earn 20 points right now by promising me on what ever is important to you that you will never try to escape. But think before you say yes. Since this is a starting amount of points, there is a special condition. If you say yes, and you still try to escape at some point, then all the slaves will immediately be killed, including you."

Seven took a moment to think that through. She was sure that she would make those 140 points, but she also knew that first she would do some things that would cost her points. Having a twenty point buffer was certainly not something she could refuse. But having that threat loom over her was also not very tempting. Even if she didn't try to escape, at some point some of her actions could be seen as such. Finally she chose her words very precise, "Very well, I will promise that I will never try to escape."

Torres lifted the head of her slave once more. By now she knew that the blonde could be very exact in the words she spoke, "And if someone takes you along against your will, against this promise, you will try to get back to me for as long as it takes you to get back."

Seven sifted through the words once again, thinking of how she should answer that one. Finally she decided that in this case less was more, "Yes, I promise."

"Hmm, I got the feeling that you are planning something. But very well, you just earned yourself twenty points."

They set like that for almost an hour more, Seven kneeling between the Intendant's legs and Torres absently playing with the blonde's hair while she let her mind drift over what she wanted to do next. There still were rules to explain, but she had told the slave the important parts and she decided that the rest could wait until situations arose that needed new rules. Till now keeping track of the rules already made was relatively easy, she had basically told the slave to do what ever she herself did.

"Computer, time."

{The time is ten hours and twenty-one minutes.}

The Intendant's sudden call for the time had startled Seven and she looked up to Torres in reflex.

"Easy, my pet," Torres caressed Seven's cheek for a moment, "No need to be afraid... if you did nothing wrong. It is just time to get moving." Torres pointed to a door opposite from the one they had used to enter the room they were in, "Through that door you will find my private office. On the left of the desk you will find a rack with blank padds at the bottom and used ones at the top. Remember that, you will have to go there frequently since I like working out here more than behind the desk. Now, get me two of the blank padds."

Seven got up to do as she was told. Upon entering the office it was apparent that it was really more a place to put things than a place to work. The whole room was bare of any kind of decoration, while in the other rooms there had at least been some wall decorations, even if they were bold Klingon weapons or armor. The computer had been folded closed and gave the impression that it hadn't been opened in a long time. There were even some boxes piled against one of the walls. The only thing that looked like it saw some use was the rack with padds that the Intendant had described. She took the bottom two padds and left the office again to bring them back to the Intendant.

Torres took the padds from the slave and ordered her to get some more to drink. When the blonde came back Torres pointed to the place beside her on the couch, "Sit here. Even though I really like how you feel between my legs, I do like to close them once in a while."

"Yes, Mistress," Seven sat down on the second cushion and busied herself with taking a sip from her own drink. She had seen the little grin the Intendant had given while speaking the words. She knew that the Klingon had been making a joke, and it surprised Seven.

This woman was nothing like how she was the day before when the senior staff had stood in front of her. Though... both commander Chakotay and the Doctor had been able to speak to the Intendant. Seven herself had been able to talk to her, even after trying to kill the woman first. Why than had she punched the Captain in the stomach? Maybe... Maybe it was because the Commander, the Doctor, and she had done what the Intendant had told them to do, while the Captain had not. Seven once again leaned on her knowledge of Voyager's B'Elanna Torres to find an explanation. On average it had been possible to work decently with B'Elanna. The fights between them usually started as soon as they disagreed and Seven refused to do whatever B'Elanna's illogical way of thinking had come up with.

From this Seven assumed that the Intendant was someone whom it was easy to get along with, as long as you did what she told you to do. If you did not, then you would see the other side of the Klingon, the side that she had seen shortly the day before and a little more than an hour ago.

The Intendant looked at the padds and recognized them from the numbering as the last two in the rack, "Wanted to make sure you had empty ones?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Don't worry. The ones that hold information always have the data line on top of the screen active. It shows you what is downloaded on the padd. I saw padds on that ship, didn't you work the same?"

"No. Privacy is very much an issue with the Voyager crew. Padds are unnumbered, and the contents secured with a password if the information on the padd is of personal nature."

"Huh," the Intendant grunted, "What a waste of effort. Padds can be broken into, there hasn't been a padd invented yet that I couldn't get into. My approach is a lot easier and affective."

"What is your approach?" Seven asked when the Intendant didn't continue.

The Intendant put her thumb on the padd window to activate it fully, "Padds need to be activated. You always leave proof behind that you've read information off a padd. Whoever is found reading information off one of these padds without being authorized to do so is killed the moment it is found out," Torres looked to the side to see those azure colored eyes looking back at her, "Remember that. It would be a shame if I had to kill you because you accidentally opened the wrong padd."

Torres didn't give Seven the chance to answer before addressing the computer, "Computer, download all non-classified history files in the database to padd IN6334, and download all human female clothing designs on file to padd IN3719."

Two separate beeps indicated that the download was completed. The Intendant handed one of the padds to Seven, but didn't let go when the blonde tried to take it, "As you probably noticed, my quarters exist of two major parts. The main room you entered through yesterday, and four other rooms are the 'official' part, where I meet anyone I don't call a friend.

All the rooms you have been in today make up the 'private' part. You are only to read the information on this padd in the private area, and this padd is never to leave this area unless I tell you. If you find yourself with nothing to do, then you can read from this padd when we are alone. You don't have to ask permission for that. But if the padd is in a different room and I'm home, than you will ask me if you can get it."

The Intendant let go of the padd and watched the slave's reaction. The slave looked at the index part of the downloaded information, which indicated that the slave was interested in the information, but she also stopped reading after having read the index, which indicated that she was smart enough to not read something while the Intendant wasn't doing some kind of work. Torres liked that. Suddenly she realized something.

"That information is in Klingon. You can read, and I assume, write Klingon."

"Yes, Mistress, it is one of the languages I know. I have also been speaking it since we were alone last night."

"Damn universal translator, I didn't even notice."

Torres looked at Seven for a moment as she had done several times before already. Seven started to understand that this was a behavior of the Intendant that she always did when trying to decide something, "And I also didn't hear an accent, I would have noticed. Computer, when was the universal translator last activated in my quarters, main or private, and by who?"

{Cardassian Intendant Ducat, speaking in his native language, last activated the universal translator in the main quarters on coalition date 5475.9. The universal translator has never been activated in the private quarters.}

Torres pointed her finger at Seven, "Repeat what the computer just said."

Seven did as she was told.

"Nice, very nice." The Klingon that the blonde had spoken had been absolutely perfect, as if she had been speaking it since birth, "And also very convenient, since Klingon is the official language throughout the coalition," Torres was clearly pleased by the discovery, "You said that Klingon was one of the languages you know. That means you know more, how many?"

"Enough," Seven said, not wanting to give away something that would indicate how vast her intelligence was.

"There goes your first point," Torres said with a small grin, she was going to enjoy the game, "Alright, let's try this in a different way. Do you know Cardassian?"














Torres wrecked her brain for a moment, thinking of a different language, "Cheronian?"


"No?" Torres asked, slightly surprised. After all the 'yes' she had gotten, she had assumed another 'yes' as answer.

"No, in our universe the Cheronians killed themselves 109 years ago in a civil war bases purely on their coloring."

"Based on their coloring?" Torres repeated, she really only knew the name from the reports she read, a race that was very loyal and very productive, but otherwise unremarkable, except for the fact that they could live for up to 100.000 years, if they were not killed before that time.

"The Cheronians are colored totally white on one side, and totally black on the other side. The civil war was fought between the ones that were black on the left, and white on the right, and the ones that were white on the left and black on the right."

"You are kidding me," Torres said disbelievingly, "With us they focus all their energy in being productive. They are very docile and willing to please."

"The Federation found out about them after they destroyed themselves. What would you do if they did not behave they way they are now?"

Torres had to think about that for a moment, "If they would rise against the Coalition, you mean? If they were to become less productive, than so be it, they are a free member of the Coalition. As long as they produce the tribute, which they are providing by a three thousand fold now, we would leave them alone. But if they would truly turn against us, we would turn them into slaves."

"Which explains why they are so docile," Seven countered reasonably, "They have a choice of being free and working for you, or being your slaves for their entire 100.000 year lifespan. I believe they prefer being free in your Coalition above being slaves in it."

"I guess you got a point there," Torres had to agree. "Anyway, I got sidetracked, now for some clothes for you. Stand up, and go stand there."

Seven moved to the place Torres had pointed to, about a body length away from the couch. For almost half an hour Torres kept looking at the padd, and then to Seven, trying to envision the blonde in the cloths selection on the padd; making selection after selection on what she thought would look good on the slave. Finally, Torres absently patted the cushion beside her, still focused on the padd, "Sit."

Once seated beside Torres, Seven could clearly see what the Intendant was doing. She was going over design after design of clothing. Ranging from something made out of nothing more than transparent cloth, to something that came close to full Klingon battle armor.

With all of the designs, Torres tried to put some symbol in the chest aria. Close to the throat if the design of the clothing allowed for it; and to the left if the design of the clothing had some kind of cleavage to it, like most did.

One of the designs had a cleavage so deep that it was sure to also show off some of her blonde curls, not that the upper part would have been able to conceal her ample chest. Seven was glad to see that at least that deign was discarded. Her reaction must have shown because Torres stopped going over the designs and looked at the blonde from the corner of her eyes.

"Didn't like that one did you?" The Intendant asked amused.

"I did not see the use of it, it served no purpose and was so revealing that one could just as well walk around naked."

"Now there is an idea."

Seven did not react to that, save for lifting her eyebrow.

The Intendant laughed at the reaction, "Don't worry, my pet. You're all mine and I don't share, not even the visuals. You will get some clothes that will show off your body, but only the curves and teasing patches of skin. It will be up to people who can use their imagination to think of what I have to play with when we are alone."

Torres continued to select between outfits, sometimes clearly dismissing a model because the symbol the Intendant was trying to put on it just didn't work with the design.

"Mistress, what does that symbol mean?" Seven finally asked, remembering that she was allowed to speak without being spoken to, when they were alone.

Torres enlarged the symbol until it was filling the entire padd screen and showed it to Seven, not knowing that the blonde had already studied the design with her enhanced vision. Seven decided not to point this out, not knowing when it might come in handy that people didn't know that she could do things most humans could not. Till now the Intendant only knew that Seven was stronger than the average human. No need to tell her more, yet.

"That, my little pet, is my mark, the shield of the House of Torres. It will clearly state that you're mine, all mine."

The symbol was a depicton of a B'Rel. The B'Rel was a huge predatory bird on Kronos, (the Klingon Homeworld). It had no natural enemies and was admired by the Klingons for its lust for battle and for its endurance. They admired the bird so much that they actually named the most known Klingon class of spaceships after it. B'Rel was the Klingon name for the ships everybody else called 'the Bird of Prey.'

One of the strangest things about the B'Rel was a behavior often pointed to by Klingon politicians to defend deals and alliances they made. For some reason the B'Rel always let some of the birds that were it's favorite prey, the Ver'Zok, live peacefully near its nest. Even going so far as to protect these select few against other predators. It was generally assumed that this was done so that the Ver'Zoks would lure more of its kind closer to the B'Rel's nest simply by being there.

The particular B'Rel in the symbol had a bat'leth in one of its claws, the well known Klingon sign for power. And in its other claw it held one of its favorite prey birds, a Ver'Zok, in a struggle for life. The meaning was clear. The house of Torres had power within Klingon society, and they were not afraid to use that power.

"I thought that slaves were always physically marked to indicate whom their master is?"

Torres flashed the blonde a toothy grin before concentrating on the padd again, "Why do you assume that? Is it something you are into? I can oblige you if you want."

"No Mistress," Seven assumed that the Intendant was joking, since it went against what she had witnessed the night before when she was pleasuring the Intendant, but it was wise to be careful.

"What use is it to put a mark on a slave, when that mark is removed within seconds using a dermal regenerator?" Torres stated reasonably, "The only reason I can come up with is to unnecessarily torture the slave, don't you agree?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Any mark or symbol is easily made or removed, so why not clearly put it on the clothing, that way no one can say that they didn't see the symbol indicating who you belong to."

The Intendant changed the design she was working on when Seven had asked what the symbol meant and decided that she now had enough garments selected.

"Mistress, why is it so important that people know that I belong to you on the moment they see me?"

Torres put the padd down and turned a little more towards the slave, "It is not uncommon for a pretty slave like you to be taken advantage of. It is something I'm trying to change, but old habits die hard, and of course no slave is going to step up to me, the Intendant, to tell me that he or she was raped by one of my soldiers.

"Violating a slave that is not yours has been outlawed close to ten year ago. But a slave first has to find someone who actually cares. And since slaves, including you, are nothing more that things often treated with less respect than work animals, someone who would do something about a complaint is hard to find. It is not unknown to happen that slaves who bring forth a complaint against a soldier, are violated a second time. This time by the superior of the soldier, for bringing forth such a 'preposterous' claim. This symbol will clearly mark you as mine and nobody will be so stupid to even touch you less they want to feel my wrath. Since they will know that there is no superior that can discard your claim. There is only me."

Seven digested what the Intendant had said. She was glad that she would be clearly marked as the Intendant's property, she had a feeling that other slaves did not generally have the luxury to be touched by only one person. But something that the Intendant had said made Seven ask, "Violating a slave that is not yours, is illegal, does that mean that violating a slave that is yours IS legal?"

"A slave is a thing, property. As long as the property is yours, you can do with it whatever you want. Even the lowest ranked Klingon can main and torture his or here slave without even the Klingon Chancellor having say in the matter. Theoretically of course. Nobody will ever be stupid enough to make the Chancellor an enemy over a mere slave."

"That..." Seven stopped herself before she started to talk to the Intendant about the illogic of Klingon rules.

But Torres had heard the start and wanted to know what her slave had to say, "That... what? Speak."

"Mistress, it is illogical to not be able to overrule someone on this matter, or stop someone from being unnecessarily cruel. Even if slaves do not rank higher than animals, they are still living beings. Slaves serve households, should they than not at least have the same rights as the pets of that same household? And also, should you as Intendant not be able to overrule someone on their decisions on slaves? The slave that might not be of value to the owner might be of value to you or someone else because of knowledge or demeanor of the slave. As a matter of fact, with this rule, slaves are more than likely helpless tools in internal battles between family members fighting for power in the family."

"Whoa down, my little attack Targ," The Intendant said, not knowing if she should be amused of enraged. Never, since she had been a child had a slave spoken to her like that. Finally she decided that since she had told the slave to speak, that meant that she also had to deal with what the slave had to say, "First of all, what is necessarily cruelty?"

"Mistress?" Seven asked, not knowing what the Intendant meant.

"You said that I should be able to stop someone from being unnecessarily cruel. So I ask you what necessarily cruelty is? It isn't up to me to decide for everyone what a rightful punishment is. A master should be able to punish a slave as they see fit..."

"By raping them?!" Seven asked disbelievingly.

Then Seven saw the change, she had forgotten that she was talking to the Klingon Intendant for a moment, and not Voyager's B'Elanna Torres. Torres grabbed Seven by her bio-suit and pulled her off the couch and pushed her into a kneeling position. There was a deep growl in her voice when the Intendant spoke, a growl Seven had heard from Voyager's B'Elanna once, just before the Klingon had punched her in the face.

"Listen, slave. Don't you ever, EVER, again interrupt me when I'm speaking. And don't you EVER again try to educate ME on rules and shortcomings of those rules! You hear me, slave?!"

"Yes, Mistress," Seven had clearly found one boundary she could not cross.

After a moment Torres pushed Seven away with a growl, making the blonde fall backwards to the floor. Seven was surprised to feel that she was missing the relaxed atmosphere that had been present a moment before. She got up to a kneeling position again and moved closer to the Intendant. She moved until she was sitting against the knees of the Intendant, but this time the legs didn't open to let her sit between them. Seven looked up to the Intendant and saw the telltale storm clouds of an angry Klingon. But she saw also something else, maybe disappointment? Maybe the Intendant had enjoyed the atmosphere too, for a moment forgetting that Seven as only a thing, only a common slave.

"Mistress, I am sorry. Please forgive me," Seven placed her hands on the Intendant's knees and applied some pressure, no where near enough to force the legs apart, just enough to let the Intendant know that she wanted to get closer. But the knees didn't move, "Please, Mistress. Please."

Finally the legs opened a bit, enough to let Seven know that she could move them further apart and come closer, but that the Intendant had not forgiven her. Seven moved between the legs, as close as she could. She took the Intendant's hands and kissed the knuckles of both hands, "Mistress, I am sorry. I did not do that on purpose. I am used to fighting with B'Elanna. It is something I know both her and I enjoy. When we were talking just now, I forgot for a moment that you are not the B'Elanna Torres I know. Please, Mistress, forgive me for this discrepancy. It will not happen again."

For a long moment nothing happened, but finally the Intendant started to move her fingers through Seven's hair, which caused the blonde to let out a mental sigh of relief.

"How long have do you known her?" The question had been spoken softly and nowhere near the angry tone the Intendant had used before.

"For almost three years now."

"And you fought a lot?"

"From the first day until present day. Only did the meaning behind the fight change over those years."

"Very well, you are forgiven. I should keep in mind that you are used to handling B'Elanna Torres in a certain way, and now you have to act in a totally opposite way. I'm sorry too," Torres didn't know what had possessed her to say those last words. Never before in her life had she apologized to a slave. Never. "And to go on from where I left off, things are changing, my pet. But change doesn't come over night. Laws are being made and enforced. Slowly but surely.

"It's only been fifteen years ago that a law was put in affect which stated that slaves should be treated as living things. It's a small step, but a step. Make too many rules at once and everyone will oppose them. Make one rule at a time, and everyone will sigh, get annoyed, object, and then abide by the rule.

"This is a vast universe and change happens slowly. Just seven years ago, a female Intendant was unheard of. Then I was appointed. It was an outrage, everyone and their mother objected, but finally nobody dared to go against the Chancellor on the matter and I became the first female Intendant. And you know what the situation is nowadays? Four of the six Intendants are female, still counting the assassinated Bajoran Intendant for the moment."

The Intendant lifted the blondes head up a little, she realized that she must have done that close to ten times already and for a moment she thought of telling the slave to not always lower her head. But she decided against it, she liked performing the little gesture and there was something to those azure colored eyes looking up and focusing on her own, "Be a little more careful in the future, that is one heck of a way to ruin a good morning."

"I will, and I am sorry, Mistress."

"Don't be sorry, improve."

"I will."

"Now listen very carefully, my pet. I don't know what it is about you that made me take a body slave, and I also don't know what it is about you that allows me to let you get away with things that nobody else would."


"Shhh. You have done things in the last two days that would have even gotten Klingons killed, you hear me? Klingons, not mere slaves. Yet you are still alive, and so are your friends. I don't know what it is, and as long as I don't have to, I'm not going to think too much about it. But, I am the Klingon Intendant. And I have to make sure that my command over my soldiers is undisputed. Please, my pet, if I take you out, don't do anything that makes me have to punish or kill you. For I will immediately if I have to. You understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. And I will not."

"Alright then. Now, tell me. You have been talking about regenerating. When do you have to regenerate the next time?" The Intendant asked, changing the subject entirely.

"My next regeneration cycle was planned for last night."

"Well then, get up, my pet. We will go to my new ship and while you do your regenerating thing, I will talk to that doctor about your clothing and what he would need to heal my counterpart."

Seven stood up and moved a little away, giving Torres some room to get up herself, "Mistress?"


"Am I to walk behind you or beside you?"

"Good question, I hadn't thought about that," Torres moved to a third door, which let them to the main entrance room, "How about you walk beside me when there is room. If not or someone else is with me, you move behind me."

"Yes, Mistress," Seven confirmed, moving with the Intendant out of the quarters.



"I am sorry."

"I know. Forget about it."

Author's note: I did not make up the Cheronian, Star Trek did that. Their history is correct, meaning they killed themselves because of their coloring. In an episode of Star Trek (TOS), two members of the race had been following each other for 50.000 years. So based on that I gave them an average lifespan of 100.00 years, if they weren't killed before that time.

Chapter 4

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