PLOT - Cmdr Valeese, Ngezzod, Rassid | "Stranger Things" pt 2/2

Posted on Wed Mar 14th, 2018 @ 4:25am by Commander Valeese Stacker

Mission: Lacuna

“How marvelous.” He smiled, leaning to drop a kiss to that portion of her body. “You’re quite the charm, Vorta, but that doesn’t answer my question. Who’s the father of the Stenellis’s child?” The question came with an almost coy tilt of his head. She was a masterpiece, perfection, worth a fortune, but the Stenellis sleeping in the cabin was worth a whole hell of a lot more when it came right down to it. That one meant an upfront share in a great big giant wad of money where the Vorta would cost him money and slow gain, depending upon how many takers there were for their five minutes of bliss with a member of a species that had cost the lives of so many of their families and friends. Everyone had lost someone, or something, in the Dominion wars.

“No clue.” Valeese replied. Another shrug. Behind her, the one with his hands on her shoulders, snorted. All the while her skin chilled and crawled, fueling her steady desire to break away from the unwanted and unwarranted intimate touches. Like Si’a wasn’t for him to sell, the little Vorta wasn’t for him to keep. Thoughts of home, of Stacker, of work all flooded into her head. She’d have gladly faced the Bajoran again if it meant that she’d be rid of this degree of stupidity and the treachery that he demanded of her.

The wind up wasn’t much of a wind up, but the tenderness of his touch became caustic in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t sailed over an especially long distance, but the jab that buried his fist just above that precious belly button was enough to make his point very very clear. Looking up, he demanded his colleague release her. It was an unspoken demand, but the intent was clear. She was going to need to suffer on her own, on the floor, at his feet for a little bit in order for her to figure out exactly where her new place was in life. The damage dealt could and would be fixed, but the lesson learned would last a lifetime.

Only when he was ready did he reach down to grab a fist full of her luxurious black curls and use them as a handle to drag her head up high enough to allow him to see and read those beautiful, expressive purple eyes, “I don’t like hurting you, darling, but I’ll keep this up until I kill you unless you give me the information that I want.” He smiled sweetly, reaching to stroke her cheek.

The blow took the breath from her immediately. It left in a reverse gasp that left her mouth hanging open and her body doubling over forward until her knees hit the deck with an equally as agonizing thud. The coughing began almost immediately and Valeese wrapped an arm around her midsection, holding herself as if the act would make it easier for her to draw air back into her lungs. It didn’t. If anything it just helped her comfort herself, fingers clinging to the flimsy cotton fabric of her cami, as she fought to breathe. That first wheeze of air felt like heaven, though her eyes were wet with tears drawn by the hit and the pain associated as it radiated through her delicate body. The relief was quickly met by further pain, and she whimpered weakly as he drew her head back by her hair. She was gasping, sucking shallow breaths of life sustaining oxygen into her bruised lungs when she met his eyes and shied, at least mentally, from the touch against her cheek. “An Andorian tactician who will fucking kill you when he catches you.” She spat on a choked breath. It felt like betrayal, it was a partial truth - tactician he had been and it sounded scarier than scientist - but she knew she had to stay alive to figure an escape and keep the heat of Si’a. They couldn’t hurt her if they were busy putting someone else together or worrying, maybe if only a little, about what was waiting for half a chance to catch them with their pants down.

“Oh is that just so?” The Orion asked with a chuckle, reaching once more to stroke her face as she coughed and choked on the air she so desperately needed in order to survive. He’d taken it from her, and he’d do it again if it suited his needs. “An Andorian. What a fantastic pairing.” He crooned, releasing the Vorta’s hair and rocking back into his seat. His eyes met his partner’s and all that translated were dollar signs. Great big dollar signs. “A Stenellis, not virgin, but fertile enough to carry the pup of an Andorian.” He explained as if it warranted such.

Behind Valeese rose a chuckle, “Almost worth more than the mother.”

“Mm. Yes. Pity it’s not at her side. We’d make an absolute fortune splitting the pair.” The seated one rubbed the thumb of one hand along the pads of its other fingers. There was great thought going on within that head of his, schemes being made that would have left a Ferengi flushed, drooling, and highly aroused by the prospect of the money involved. “Who says we can’t? Who says that we can’t stick a stipulation that ownership of the pup is separate from ownership of the mother? They’re two separate entities. Just means that the owner of the mother should be compensated by the owner of the pup for care until the pup is whelped and can be taken.” He grinned, looking back down at the Vorta as he spoke, “That’s the beautiful thing about humanoids,” rolled a chuckle, “They can be raised off the mother quite easily. Can’t they, Doctor Valeese?”

She was going to puke. Her stomach, like her heart, had already lurched into her throat and she was convinced the contents were about to pour out into the bastard’s lap. It would have served him right, if only she her first physical response was to fight the urge to vomit and concentrate solely on sucking air into her lungs no matter how badly her abdomen and ribcage was bruised and screaming in protest. “I…” Valeese wheezed, shaking her head, “I don’t recommend it.” The hand clutching her upper belly was shaking partly in pain, partly in fear, and partly in anger, but she kept it firmly against her and its mate rooted against the deck plate as support mainly out of fear she wouldn’t be able to control the urge to attack him, “Stenellis are delicate creatures, they’re relatively slow to mature and we know little to nothing about how they survive without their mothers for nutrition. They haven’t exactly shared their reproductive qualities.” She was panting now that she could actually breathe, for the most part, “A hybrid could be even more delicate… You’d probably do well not informing her that she’s expecting. It wasn’t part of the information packet I received when the Vindicator arrived. Starfleet doesn’t know which means she doesn’t even know.”

“And why not?” The Orion asked, raising an eyebrow and looking down at her. The information she gave him was interesting enough that it made him pause and think. It made sense, and that could impact profit. Profit was all he really understood.

Looking up, Valeese met his eyes begrudgingly. The usually bright purple of hers was deep, almost black, and glassy with unshed tears brought to the surface by the blow he’d dealt her, “Because they stress so easy. She’ll panic and try to escape… It may cause her…” Her voice drifted off as she coughed once more, almost certainly she’d taste blood after, “It may cause her to lose the pregnancy. Then what? You have a broken Stenellis, no baby, bad product.” Gods forgive her, please, but this was the best chance she had at protecting Si’a and getting them the hell out of there. It would be the opposite, she knew, if Si’a were to stumble upon the awareness of her pregnancy – she wouldn’t fight, she’d protect her baby at all costs even if it meant being complacent.

“Fine. Then we sell them as a package deal. Double the starting bid and the reserve.” He huffed, almost bored and definitely displeased with the information given to him. What choice did he have but to listen to the Vorta? None. She was the doctor and she was familiar with the information Starfleet did and didn’t have. Poor product would leave him with a reputation that would impact prices at these auctions and that simply wouldn’t do. “Put her back with the Stenellis after you clean her up… And don’t get any fucking ideas. She’s off limits…” He paused, returning to the helm, “For now.”

Being drug to her feet and carried back towards where they’d left them in holding, Valeese knew she needed to find a way to hit their pause button. Somehow, someway, she would need to stop them and get off a warning, a cry for help… Something. Anything. May the Gods help them for the sake of Si’a, her child, and the future as a whole.

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Lieutenant Commander Valeese
Chief Medical Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170

Ngezzod & Rassid (APB Spaceman)
Orion Syndicate