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Torian shot a furious look at his lieutenant, who gave a curt nod, confirming what High Mother had said. Torian looked back at High Mother, his expression stoic once again.
“Of course,” he answered, his features stony enough to betray his annoyance. “And since you are so well versed in protocol, you will know that your grievance turns this ship, and these quarters specifically, into a sanitary area. Until the commission arrives, no one from your… delegation… is to set foot in it.”
The smug grin wilted from High Mother’s lips. Her nostrils flared and for a moment it looked like she was going to lash out again.
“Lieutenant, kindly escort our guest back to the station. Lock down the main hatch. No one is to enter. Once you’re finished I’ll take two plates from the mess, one for each of us,” he said, moving his head in Quaia’s direction.
“Sir, yes sir!” the lieutenant barked. To High Mother, “Ma’am? If you’ll follow me?”
High Mother spun sideways with a surprising energy and fell into line behind the lieutenant.
Quaia thought she heard her snarling as she disappeared.
The hatch slid shut and it was just her and Torian again.
CHAPTER 4
He released her from the table and helped her stand, taking her hand in his for the second time that day. She tried very hard not to let her mind run amok with silly fantasies as he squeezed her fingers gently, but she wasn’t able to stop them all.
She cowered in front of him, trying to cover herself with her arms and hands, wishing her limbs would cease trembling so much. The presence of High Mother had drastically changed the atmosphere in the room, and her humiliation had only deepened.
He walked to the far wall of his quarters and opened a small hatch to pull out a heavy blue robe. He walked back to where she was standing and offered it to her. “This will keep you somewhat warmer than that flimsy thing you were wearing,” he said.
Relief swept through her as she donned the robe. It was a pleasant weight and she wrapped it tightly around herself, grateful for a modicum of dignity. She watched Torian pick up the towel he’d discarded, along with the slip she’d worn to his quarters, and stuff both down a chute next to the hatch he’d pulled the robe from.
He turned and walked to the center of the room, waving a hand at the floor. A pedestal table and two leaning chairs emerged from the silicone floor. He gestured to the one closest to her. “Please. Sit,” he said.
She shuffled over and slipped into the seat.
Torian sat down opposite, eyeing her across the table. “She has always been like that?” he asked quietly.
Quaia dared to smile shyly and raise an eyebrow. It was an odd question, and the implied complicity with Torian surprised her. A strange, alien male asking the young woman he was sent to pleasure and discipline about one of her betters.
She was reluctant to answer at first. Just because his relationship with High Mother had been antagonistic thus far was no reason to believe it would stay that way. This could be a ploy, a ruse meant to lure her into his confidence, after which he might betray her. Worse things had happened for far more trivial reasons. She’d seen as much herself.
There was a certain gentleness in his eyes and voice, though, that she couldn’t bring herself to ignore. “She is of a different time,” she offered tentatively. A diplomatic response, but one that left an opening for further inquiry.
He smiled with one corner of his mouth. The first earnest smile she’d seen, save for the smirk and chuckle at her earlier quip. “The galaxy is full of these old crones. Gentle women, as they call themselves, whose husbands once held sway and now are gone or no longer in power. If they could only imagine a world in which they are not at its center I might be more kindly disposed toward them.”
She gave the slightest of nods. His indictment was too damning to agree with outright. If word got out she had agreed, there might be trouble. Still, she sensed his desire for a connection between them. He was no Goethen, at least.
“You’ve traveled far and wide then?” she dared to ask, wanting to fill the uncomfortable silence that might ensue as they waited. No matter the circumstances, she was always game for stories of distant travels.
This time it was Torian who raised an eyebrow at her.
It had been a daring question, a little cheeky to boot.
“I’ve seen a sun or two,” he replied, that smile tickling the side of his mouth again. He leaned over the table and laced his fingers together atop it, staring at her. He drew a breath then held it, as if deliberating whether to elaborate. “Before this… bizarre posting on the Andomocles, I commanded a fleet.”
Her eyes widened. This was exciting. A fleet commander? Here on the station? That’s who’d stripped her naked and done all those dirty things to her? It shifted her perspective on the situation even more.
“A fleet commander?” she asked quietly, eyebrows still raised and unable to keep the awe out of her tone. While she didn’t want to appear flustered or impressed by this revelation, it was… flustering and impressive.
His mouth formed an odd smile, tinged with an emotion she could recognize herself: disappointment. “I began as a medic. But combat was in my blood. And I’ve been blessed with a keen mind, or so I’m told. The journey to commander wasn’t long.” He glanced up. “It was a small fleet.”
She allowed herself another smile, visions of Torian hurtling through space on some special operations mission blossoming in her mind. Dangerously, her thoughts took on more fantastical tones, placing her on those adventures as well.
“Story for another day,” Torian muttered, breaking her reverie.
