Fic: Lies in Silence Chapter Twenty-five (of 30)
LIES IN SILENCE CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
by SlwMtionDaylite
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing. Paramount, et al. own all. I really wish they would let me borrow Spock for a while though.
Rating: MA/NC-17
Genre: Angst, Drama, Erotica, Hurt/Comfort
Characters/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Word Count (Chapter Twenty-Five): 2811
Beta: jlneveloff
Warnings: Language, explicit and non-explicit sexual situations, slight dub!con, rape, violence, minor Fem!slash, torture.
Summary: Alternate Mirror Universe. He wants to protect me; I want that protection, need it, in fact. But I am willing to betray him if and when the time comes. We are not working together. I know my goals. But what are his?
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Prey Ensnared
It’s late. The sun has set and I am alone. Alone with the small fire pot and my visions of the forest. The Commander is not here; he was called away to some emergency meeting with Captain Pike.
Something regarding the I.S.S. Enterprise, I think. He didn’t tell me and I didn’t really ask. I don’t care. My time here is limited. The school is almost over and the Commander-he promised; he can’t change his mind-will help me get out of here.
I don’t know how he plans on that happening. But he promised.
And I have to believe him. I have to believe him because I have no one else I can.
I am most pleased with your progress, he told me. You have grasped the concepts and methods sooner than I had expected.
He’s so troubled. So messed up. He still has difficulty sleeping. I’ve found him awake in the middle of the night. He stares out the window onto the streets, campus below. There’s nothing to see, so he must think. I can’t get him to tell me what about. After our mind meld, he hasn’t been so willing.
I shouldn’t be so curious. This is a man, a Vulcan, who has taken advantage of me, who’s used my body, fucked me. It was ambiguous, sometimes, I think. Did I give consent? Or not? I couldn’t tell you, to be completely honest. I don’t remember. I remember wanting it, feeling disgusted at myself. I remember begging him for just a little bit more. He’d always give it. Sometimes more than I wanted. Pushing me higher and higher.
He hasn’t touched me since he’s come back. Probably for the best. I wasn’t in a good place. I’m still trying to crawl my way out of it.
What does it say about me that I miss feeling his touch? That I miss feeling him moving inside me? I shouldn’t miss it, right? He didn’t give me a choice with the unions. He forced me into them. Like I was his. His property to command, to dominate.
I still want his touch. I want to erase the remnants of the man who touched me last. I don’t think the Commander would give it to me, though. He’s been different since the meld, regarding me differently. I’m not sure why and I haven’t asked.
I wonder what happened to that photograph of him and his mother. It still hasn’t returned to his desk. Did he destroy it? Or did someone else? How would he react if I ask?
A rattling sounds. My eyes snap open. It sounds again. Coming from outside the door.
It can’t be the Commander. The door opens automatically upon his arrival. It’s not the Commander. But it’s somebody. Of course, it’s somebody. Somebody on the other side of the door.
My heart pounds in my chest. My stomach clenches. There’s someone out there. Who? It’s not Spock. And it can’t be Captain Pike since he’s the one who called the Commander in for the meeting.
The rattling, the clunking becomes insistent.
I look around the quarters, my eyes darting from table to shelf to desk. My vision is hindered by the lack of light-there’s only the tiny flame; too much light distracts me-but I can’t risk turning the lights on. I-I need a weapon. There are no phasers in the Commander’s quarters; except for the one in his locked drawer. I won’t risk attempting to break the lock. There’s not enough time anyway.
And it’d make too much noise.
There are only the knives in the kitchen. The same ones I used against the Commander all those weeks ago-how many weeks? Only three? It feels so much longer-but I will have to get close. I can’t hide in the shadows, attack from the safety of the darkness. I will know his face and he will know mine.
And if I screw up, if he lives, he’ll know it was me that did it and he’ll kill me. Or report me. And I’ll go to the Wall. And I’ll hang there, dead, as people spit and desecrate my corpse.
I hold my breath. I can’t. I can’t-
I want to forget. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to close my eyes and return to the forest with the butterflies. They were helping. And now, they were snatched away, seized, torn to shreds-delicate wings caught in a hurricane of fear-by the voice, the knocks on the door.
Another knocking on the door. Followed by whispered words.
Whoever it is, he won’t go away.
I retreat for the kitchen, robes fluttering across my legs. I seize a long-bladed knife, just like the one that sliced through the Commander’s skin-he should have punished me for that; why didn’t he?-and grip it tightly. My heart still pounds, the blood rushes, echoes in my ears.
Holding the knife close, I move towards the door where the noises still sound.
Panting, body shaking, I lean against the door, pressing my ear against the cold metal.
A voice. Muffled through the door, but it’s still a voice. He says something that’s difficult to understand. I squeeze my eyes shut, press my ear more tightly against the door.
CLUNK! CLUNK!
I gasp, a small scream escapes my lips, and jump back. I clamp a hand around my lips. My presence is known to him. I back away from the door, my legs trembling, my arms shivering.
He knows I’m in here. Whoever is outside the Commander’s quarters now knows there is a woman in here. Does he know the Commander is missing? Will he retreat? Or will he double his efforts, desperate to steal her away from the Vulcan? Desperate, determined to r-
I can’t.
No. I was making progress, I was healing. I can’t let myself fall, tumble back to where I was, to the despair.
Why am I still standing here, just on the other side of the door?
Another loud clank. Some beeps.
The door slides open, revealing the man on the other side.
My eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat. My grip on the knife falters and he grabs me, shoving me backwards. I slam into the wall behind me and my knife slips from my hand, clattering on the ground. I hear it scrape across the floor, away from me. He kicked it.
I’m defenseless. The Commander is not here.
“How-” How did he find me? Why is he here? How did he get in? Who let him in?
He leaned in close, his nose bumping into mine. He leans against his hands, positioning them on both sides of my head. Trapping me. Imprisoning me with his body.
I gasp, pant. My blood feels frozen; my limbs, numb. Three weeks. It’s been three weeks.
How?
He smirks. But it’s angry, hardness taints it. “Nyota.” He leans closer, his mouth moving towards mine, but I jerk my head to the side and he grazes my cheek. He laughs and seizes my chin, forcing me to look at him.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to be dreaming. I have to be in the middle of a nightmare. This doesn’t make any sense. How is he here? Why?
If I reach inside far enough I can force myself to wake up. This is a nightmare. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
Where is the Commander?
A meeting with Captain Pike. Pike, who knows my true identity. And now, here’s-
Coincidence?
“Nyota. You had me concerned. It’s been three weeks since I last saw you. Since I gave you that order. I was beginning to think you were dead when you didn’t answer my communications.”
I open my eyes, look into his cold ones. My body trembles.
I wanted to die. Did he know that? Did he plan that? Would it please him to know that I had hid in my dorm, clinging to the fading fringes of my sanity? Would he laugh if he knew that I envisioned killing him, stabbing myself?
Where would I be if the Commander had not summoned me that night? I shudder to think.
He narrows his eyes.
His communications. He’s-he’s right. I haven’t answered them. I turned that communicator off and threw it in the bottom of my bag. I forgot about it. I didn’t care. I was free of him. He was out of my life. I didn’t-I don’t-want to follow his orders anymore. They weren’t helping anyone.
How-
“How are you here? How did you find me?” My voice shakes, quivering words fall from my lips. I was healing. I was getting better. I was forgetting. Why? Why is he here? I was naive, stupid to think I’d be safe if I just ignored him.
Of course, he could find me. He’s the one that told me to return to the Commander, told me to fuck him. Let him own me. He could find the information he needed.
He reaches into the jacket pocket of that fucking impeccable suit of his-it looks expensive, something that one would have to have money to afford-and pulls out his own communicator. He waves it in front of my face. It blocks my view of him. “Now, Nyota, what was it that I taught you? Always keep your communicator turned on and keep it with you always. You seem to have done neither of these.”
“Please, leave me alone.” Tears burn my eyes but they don’t fall. Not yet. I don’t want him to see me crying. Not anymore.
Robau returns the communicator to his pocket and seizes me by my shoulders, slamming me against the wall; I cry out, the impact stinging. “You’ve failed me, Nyota. I gave you simple instructions: get me information on the Emperor.”
I honestly forgot. I successfully pushed it from my mind, because when I left that grungy whorehouse room, I had no intentions of returning; I was going to be dead. I don’t say anything, though. I just look at him, at his cruel face-how could I have not seen it all this time?-his snarling lips, glaring eyes. His face hovering above mine as he moves against me, in me. My throat clenches-I feel like I might throw up-my heart catches. No. No. It’s in the past. It’s done. He’s not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be in my life anymore.
I was getting better.
“I was counting on you, Nyota. But you failed me and I was forced to find these things out on my own.”
Then why are you here?
“Do you understand the danger I placed myself in obtaining this information, searching for you? I could have been caught; I could have been hanged. Then, where would you be?” He presses his body against mine. “I thought I was clear. I needed you on this, Nyota.”
My fingers dig into his shoulders. I shove him away. “Don’t touch me!”
He laughs. Takes a small step back. “Feisty.” He leers, his eyes following my legs upwards, settling on some areas longer than others-how could I have missed this? Was I so blinded by his promises, empty promises that I didn’t let myself see?-and he steps forward again, grabbing my hair. I cry out and he forces me backwards again. My head slams against the wall. I flinch.
“I must say.” He leans in, his breath hot against my face. “You certainly look better than last time. I see the Commander knows how to treat his whore well. I guess I can understand your loyalty.”
My leg rams upwards, but he anticipates my move and sidesteps. “Fuck you,” I say, my lip curling upwards, my eyes narrowing.
“I already have.”
I cry out, tears stinging my eyes, and my hands lash toward his face, his eyes. I want to scratch him. Hurt him. I aim for his eyes. He seizes my wrists and pins them above my head, squeezing, clenching. I yelp.
He rests his forehead against mine. “Nyota. How easily you have forgotten. How easily you have forgotten your purpose here.”
I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say. My heart threatens to burst from my chest. My breaths come in huge uneven gasps. I want to close my eyes and when I open them, I want him gone. I will be leaving this place soon. Spock said I would. I have to believe him.
“Don’t you want the Empire to fall? Don’t you want the Empire to change? The Commander to pay for what they’ve done?” He skirts his hands across my body; I flinch, pull away. His hands pull the robe lose; my chest is almost completely exposed to him. “You help me with this and you can have your freedom. You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do anymore.”
I brace myself against him and shove. He stumbles back then reels forward and hits me; my head jerks to the side and I cry out. He grabs my head, cups both hands around my cheeks and brings his body even closer to mine, pressing me against the wall. I gasp, pant. I can’t find purchase to get him away from me. What is he going to do to me?
“You will listen to me. You will do what I tell you. You haven’t forgotten Gaila, have you? Do you want to end up like her? Strewn up like a piece of meat? Dead?”
My eyes close and I can’t escape the memory of seeing her body hanging, swaying. I can’t escape the Commander’s memories, her desperate cries on his ears, my ears. Robau deceived her, as well. He turned her in. He let them kill her because she wore out her usefulness, because she disobeyed him. I shake my head, my lips quivering. No. No. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to be free. “No. Please, no.” I just want him to stop hurting me. “I’ll-I’ll do it.”
He smiles, runs a hand through my hair and cups my cheek. “There you go, Nyota. You’ve just made the right decision.”
I turn my face away, looking at the door, and he rests his forehead against my temple, pressing kisses against my cheek. I stare at the door. It mocks me. Why hasn’t the Commander returned? Why hasn’t he entered through the door and expelled the danger from this place?
Robau steps away, dropping his hands from my body-I release a long sigh, clutching the robes close, concealing the flesh he touched-and crosses his arms. “You have ten minutes to get ready.”
I push away from the wall and stumble to the bathroom, my legs uncooperative, still stiff.
Once inside the bathroom, away from him, I allow myself a moment to release the tears, to cry. I bite my fist, staunching the noise. I don’t want him to hear. I don’t want him to come in.
I was getting better.
I grab the only clothing I can find: my wrinkled cadet uniform. I haven’t worn it since that night three weeks ago when the Commander returned. It has lain, forgotten, in a heap on the floor underneath the sink. Neither of us has touched it. Neither of us has removed it. Thrown it away. I don’t know why.
Untying the sash, I drop the robe from my shoulders and it tumbles to the floor. And I’m left wearing only my underwear. I pull the disgusting pants on. They haven’t been washed-they still bear traces of-I gag, choking down bile. The top is easier to bear, but I no longer have my linen cloth-I don’t even have my wig anymore-so my breasts are not hidden beneath it. I am unable to mask my feminine body, no matter how feebly I was. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, though. Because I won’t be alone.
I want to stay in here. I want to stay here until the Commander arrives. But I don’t know when that’ll be. I don’t know when Robau will decide he’s had enough waiting and burst through. He may hurt me if he gets mad. I can’t risk it.
So, I leave the safety of the bathroom.
Robau scowls when he sees my ill-fitting uniform. But he doesn’t say anything about it. He seizes my arm and shoves me toward the door.
Maybe when the door slides open the Commander will be there. Maybe he’ll see me with Robau and he’ll attack him. Maybe I’ll get away.
The door slides open upon our approach.
The Commander isn’t on the other side of it.
by SlwMtionDaylite
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing. Paramount, et al. own all. I really wish they would let me borrow Spock for a while though.
Rating: MA/NC-17
Genre: Angst, Drama, Erotica, Hurt/Comfort
Characters/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Word Count (Chapter Twenty-Five): 2811
Beta: jlneveloff
Warnings: Language, explicit and non-explicit sexual situations, slight dub!con, rape, violence, minor Fem!slash, torture.
Summary: Alternate Mirror Universe. He wants to protect me; I want that protection, need it, in fact. But I am willing to betray him if and when the time comes. We are not working together. I know my goals. But what are his?
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Prey Ensnared
It’s late. The sun has set and I am alone. Alone with the small fire pot and my visions of the forest. The Commander is not here; he was called away to some emergency meeting with Captain Pike.
Something regarding the I.S.S. Enterprise, I think. He didn’t tell me and I didn’t really ask. I don’t care. My time here is limited. The school is almost over and the Commander-he promised; he can’t change his mind-will help me get out of here.
I don’t know how he plans on that happening. But he promised.
And I have to believe him. I have to believe him because I have no one else I can.
I am most pleased with your progress, he told me. You have grasped the concepts and methods sooner than I had expected.
He’s so troubled. So messed up. He still has difficulty sleeping. I’ve found him awake in the middle of the night. He stares out the window onto the streets, campus below. There’s nothing to see, so he must think. I can’t get him to tell me what about. After our mind meld, he hasn’t been so willing.
I shouldn’t be so curious. This is a man, a Vulcan, who has taken advantage of me, who’s used my body, fucked me. It was ambiguous, sometimes, I think. Did I give consent? Or not? I couldn’t tell you, to be completely honest. I don’t remember. I remember wanting it, feeling disgusted at myself. I remember begging him for just a little bit more. He’d always give it. Sometimes more than I wanted. Pushing me higher and higher.
He hasn’t touched me since he’s come back. Probably for the best. I wasn’t in a good place. I’m still trying to crawl my way out of it.
What does it say about me that I miss feeling his touch? That I miss feeling him moving inside me? I shouldn’t miss it, right? He didn’t give me a choice with the unions. He forced me into them. Like I was his. His property to command, to dominate.
I still want his touch. I want to erase the remnants of the man who touched me last. I don’t think the Commander would give it to me, though. He’s been different since the meld, regarding me differently. I’m not sure why and I haven’t asked.
I wonder what happened to that photograph of him and his mother. It still hasn’t returned to his desk. Did he destroy it? Or did someone else? How would he react if I ask?
A rattling sounds. My eyes snap open. It sounds again. Coming from outside the door.
It can’t be the Commander. The door opens automatically upon his arrival. It’s not the Commander. But it’s somebody. Of course, it’s somebody. Somebody on the other side of the door.
My heart pounds in my chest. My stomach clenches. There’s someone out there. Who? It’s not Spock. And it can’t be Captain Pike since he’s the one who called the Commander in for the meeting.
The rattling, the clunking becomes insistent.
I look around the quarters, my eyes darting from table to shelf to desk. My vision is hindered by the lack of light-there’s only the tiny flame; too much light distracts me-but I can’t risk turning the lights on. I-I need a weapon. There are no phasers in the Commander’s quarters; except for the one in his locked drawer. I won’t risk attempting to break the lock. There’s not enough time anyway.
And it’d make too much noise.
There are only the knives in the kitchen. The same ones I used against the Commander all those weeks ago-how many weeks? Only three? It feels so much longer-but I will have to get close. I can’t hide in the shadows, attack from the safety of the darkness. I will know his face and he will know mine.
And if I screw up, if he lives, he’ll know it was me that did it and he’ll kill me. Or report me. And I’ll go to the Wall. And I’ll hang there, dead, as people spit and desecrate my corpse.
I hold my breath. I can’t. I can’t-
I want to forget. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to close my eyes and return to the forest with the butterflies. They were helping. And now, they were snatched away, seized, torn to shreds-delicate wings caught in a hurricane of fear-by the voice, the knocks on the door.
Another knocking on the door. Followed by whispered words.
Whoever it is, he won’t go away.
I retreat for the kitchen, robes fluttering across my legs. I seize a long-bladed knife, just like the one that sliced through the Commander’s skin-he should have punished me for that; why didn’t he?-and grip it tightly. My heart still pounds, the blood rushes, echoes in my ears.
Holding the knife close, I move towards the door where the noises still sound.
Panting, body shaking, I lean against the door, pressing my ear against the cold metal.
A voice. Muffled through the door, but it’s still a voice. He says something that’s difficult to understand. I squeeze my eyes shut, press my ear more tightly against the door.
CLUNK! CLUNK!
I gasp, a small scream escapes my lips, and jump back. I clamp a hand around my lips. My presence is known to him. I back away from the door, my legs trembling, my arms shivering.
He knows I’m in here. Whoever is outside the Commander’s quarters now knows there is a woman in here. Does he know the Commander is missing? Will he retreat? Or will he double his efforts, desperate to steal her away from the Vulcan? Desperate, determined to r-
I can’t.
No. I was making progress, I was healing. I can’t let myself fall, tumble back to where I was, to the despair.
Why am I still standing here, just on the other side of the door?
Another loud clank. Some beeps.
The door slides open, revealing the man on the other side.
My eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat. My grip on the knife falters and he grabs me, shoving me backwards. I slam into the wall behind me and my knife slips from my hand, clattering on the ground. I hear it scrape across the floor, away from me. He kicked it.
I’m defenseless. The Commander is not here.
“How-” How did he find me? Why is he here? How did he get in? Who let him in?
He leaned in close, his nose bumping into mine. He leans against his hands, positioning them on both sides of my head. Trapping me. Imprisoning me with his body.
I gasp, pant. My blood feels frozen; my limbs, numb. Three weeks. It’s been three weeks.
How?
He smirks. But it’s angry, hardness taints it. “Nyota.” He leans closer, his mouth moving towards mine, but I jerk my head to the side and he grazes my cheek. He laughs and seizes my chin, forcing me to look at him.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to be dreaming. I have to be in the middle of a nightmare. This doesn’t make any sense. How is he here? Why?
If I reach inside far enough I can force myself to wake up. This is a nightmare. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
Where is the Commander?
A meeting with Captain Pike. Pike, who knows my true identity. And now, here’s-
Coincidence?
“Nyota. You had me concerned. It’s been three weeks since I last saw you. Since I gave you that order. I was beginning to think you were dead when you didn’t answer my communications.”
I open my eyes, look into his cold ones. My body trembles.
I wanted to die. Did he know that? Did he plan that? Would it please him to know that I had hid in my dorm, clinging to the fading fringes of my sanity? Would he laugh if he knew that I envisioned killing him, stabbing myself?
Where would I be if the Commander had not summoned me that night? I shudder to think.
He narrows his eyes.
His communications. He’s-he’s right. I haven’t answered them. I turned that communicator off and threw it in the bottom of my bag. I forgot about it. I didn’t care. I was free of him. He was out of my life. I didn’t-I don’t-want to follow his orders anymore. They weren’t helping anyone.
How-
“How are you here? How did you find me?” My voice shakes, quivering words fall from my lips. I was healing. I was getting better. I was forgetting. Why? Why is he here? I was naive, stupid to think I’d be safe if I just ignored him.
Of course, he could find me. He’s the one that told me to return to the Commander, told me to fuck him. Let him own me. He could find the information he needed.
He reaches into the jacket pocket of that fucking impeccable suit of his-it looks expensive, something that one would have to have money to afford-and pulls out his own communicator. He waves it in front of my face. It blocks my view of him. “Now, Nyota, what was it that I taught you? Always keep your communicator turned on and keep it with you always. You seem to have done neither of these.”
“Please, leave me alone.” Tears burn my eyes but they don’t fall. Not yet. I don’t want him to see me crying. Not anymore.
Robau returns the communicator to his pocket and seizes me by my shoulders, slamming me against the wall; I cry out, the impact stinging. “You’ve failed me, Nyota. I gave you simple instructions: get me information on the Emperor.”
I honestly forgot. I successfully pushed it from my mind, because when I left that grungy whorehouse room, I had no intentions of returning; I was going to be dead. I don’t say anything, though. I just look at him, at his cruel face-how could I have not seen it all this time?-his snarling lips, glaring eyes. His face hovering above mine as he moves against me, in me. My throat clenches-I feel like I might throw up-my heart catches. No. No. It’s in the past. It’s done. He’s not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be in my life anymore.
I was getting better.
“I was counting on you, Nyota. But you failed me and I was forced to find these things out on my own.”
Then why are you here?
“Do you understand the danger I placed myself in obtaining this information, searching for you? I could have been caught; I could have been hanged. Then, where would you be?” He presses his body against mine. “I thought I was clear. I needed you on this, Nyota.”
My fingers dig into his shoulders. I shove him away. “Don’t touch me!”
He laughs. Takes a small step back. “Feisty.” He leers, his eyes following my legs upwards, settling on some areas longer than others-how could I have missed this? Was I so blinded by his promises, empty promises that I didn’t let myself see?-and he steps forward again, grabbing my hair. I cry out and he forces me backwards again. My head slams against the wall. I flinch.
“I must say.” He leans in, his breath hot against my face. “You certainly look better than last time. I see the Commander knows how to treat his whore well. I guess I can understand your loyalty.”
My leg rams upwards, but he anticipates my move and sidesteps. “Fuck you,” I say, my lip curling upwards, my eyes narrowing.
“I already have.”
I cry out, tears stinging my eyes, and my hands lash toward his face, his eyes. I want to scratch him. Hurt him. I aim for his eyes. He seizes my wrists and pins them above my head, squeezing, clenching. I yelp.
He rests his forehead against mine. “Nyota. How easily you have forgotten. How easily you have forgotten your purpose here.”
I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say. My heart threatens to burst from my chest. My breaths come in huge uneven gasps. I want to close my eyes and when I open them, I want him gone. I will be leaving this place soon. Spock said I would. I have to believe him.
“Don’t you want the Empire to fall? Don’t you want the Empire to change? The Commander to pay for what they’ve done?” He skirts his hands across my body; I flinch, pull away. His hands pull the robe lose; my chest is almost completely exposed to him. “You help me with this and you can have your freedom. You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do anymore.”
I brace myself against him and shove. He stumbles back then reels forward and hits me; my head jerks to the side and I cry out. He grabs my head, cups both hands around my cheeks and brings his body even closer to mine, pressing me against the wall. I gasp, pant. I can’t find purchase to get him away from me. What is he going to do to me?
“You will listen to me. You will do what I tell you. You haven’t forgotten Gaila, have you? Do you want to end up like her? Strewn up like a piece of meat? Dead?”
My eyes close and I can’t escape the memory of seeing her body hanging, swaying. I can’t escape the Commander’s memories, her desperate cries on his ears, my ears. Robau deceived her, as well. He turned her in. He let them kill her because she wore out her usefulness, because she disobeyed him. I shake my head, my lips quivering. No. No. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to be free. “No. Please, no.” I just want him to stop hurting me. “I’ll-I’ll do it.”
He smiles, runs a hand through my hair and cups my cheek. “There you go, Nyota. You’ve just made the right decision.”
I turn my face away, looking at the door, and he rests his forehead against my temple, pressing kisses against my cheek. I stare at the door. It mocks me. Why hasn’t the Commander returned? Why hasn’t he entered through the door and expelled the danger from this place?
Robau steps away, dropping his hands from my body-I release a long sigh, clutching the robes close, concealing the flesh he touched-and crosses his arms. “You have ten minutes to get ready.”
I push away from the wall and stumble to the bathroom, my legs uncooperative, still stiff.
Once inside the bathroom, away from him, I allow myself a moment to release the tears, to cry. I bite my fist, staunching the noise. I don’t want him to hear. I don’t want him to come in.
I was getting better.
I grab the only clothing I can find: my wrinkled cadet uniform. I haven’t worn it since that night three weeks ago when the Commander returned. It has lain, forgotten, in a heap on the floor underneath the sink. Neither of us has touched it. Neither of us has removed it. Thrown it away. I don’t know why.
Untying the sash, I drop the robe from my shoulders and it tumbles to the floor. And I’m left wearing only my underwear. I pull the disgusting pants on. They haven’t been washed-they still bear traces of-I gag, choking down bile. The top is easier to bear, but I no longer have my linen cloth-I don’t even have my wig anymore-so my breasts are not hidden beneath it. I am unable to mask my feminine body, no matter how feebly I was. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, though. Because I won’t be alone.
I want to stay in here. I want to stay here until the Commander arrives. But I don’t know when that’ll be. I don’t know when Robau will decide he’s had enough waiting and burst through. He may hurt me if he gets mad. I can’t risk it.
So, I leave the safety of the bathroom.
Robau scowls when he sees my ill-fitting uniform. But he doesn’t say anything about it. He seizes my arm and shoves me toward the door.
Maybe when the door slides open the Commander will be there. Maybe he’ll see me with Robau and he’ll attack him. Maybe I’ll get away.
The door slides open upon our approach.
The Commander isn’t on the other side of it.