The Right Questions

Posted on Mon Nov 14th, 2022 @ 6:52am by Petty Officer 2nd Class Jasper Branson & Immy

Mission: S1 Episode 4: The Cloud
Location: XO's Offices
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 2015
3102 words - 6.2 OF Standard Post Measure

ON

A long, loud sigh passed Jasper's lips as he leaned back in his chair. He was almost done for the evening - unless of course something else came in which was likely given the current state of affairs on the ship. Red Matter. Much too above his pay grade and, truthfully, above his level of comfort. It was apparently some super destructive substance that if handled even slightly wrong, could destroy the entire fleet in a blink of an eye. What he did understand however was the draw of power, and one couldn't really get more powerful than that. As long as the right people had power and it didn't fuck him over personally, he in the end really could not have cared less.

He reached up and rubbed his face then finally decided to stand up and move to the replicator. Ordering himself a café cubano, he leaned against the wall and watched it shimmer into existence, but he was much too caught up in his thoughts to really be paying attention. Overall, his first day on the job had gone well though the circumstances had made it wildly busy. He was taking it in stride.

Immy had been allowed to go back to the slave quarters hours ago and, since the end of her shift, she had unwound and changed out of her unflattering uniform and into another one of the options afforded to slaves. When they did this, they generally had to pull clothes from a stack that everyone shared and try their best to find their size. She had grabbed a sparkling green croptank fit for a girl with half her assets and a matching sequined asymmetrical green skirt which was long in the back and rose high in the front. The top had a deep v between the spaghetti straps and the middle of her cleavage which gave quite a lot to see. In order to protect herself from probing eyes, she pulled a long brown shawl over the garments and wrapped it closed. Like many slaves, she wore no shoes unless her work demanded it.Immy was stylish and had a flare for attracting attention, but the reality of life as a slave had forced her to dull those traits. In times like this, when no free were around, she liked to shine again.

She exited the slave lift on Deck three and moved purposefully toward the command officers. No one was around, so she didn’t play at humility. There was something she had left at her work area which she needed to retrieve, and she was hoping to slip in and out again without notice. She entered her code into the keypad and the door slid open without protest. Without looking in, the red headed woman stepped inside and walked over to her station near the door. She opened a door and started to search for something, a lovely tune on her pouty lips. She sang sweetly but breathily, like someone who had no idea what she was doing.

Jasper, still standing at the replicator, turned as the doors opened and watched the completely unaware woman rummage around in one of the stations. He sipped his drink, just watching her and the way her body shifted. Judging by the ill fitting clothes and bare feet, it was one of the command slaves. He listened to her humming randomly, sweet, but not necessarily pleasant given it was just completely random. He took another sip and then lowered the cup back down to the small saucer.

"Missing something?"

Immy startled at the sound of his voice, having thought she was alone and stumbled over the chair next to her, losing her footing and collapsing against the wall in an extremely undignified display. Surprise or not, dignity was foreign to a slave anyway. She recovered, embarrassed, and looked over to see Jasper at the replicator. Considering this was their second time meeting today, she recognized him immediately and cast her eyes down, standing up straight.

“Master Branson. Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was in here.” She said, her honeyed voice low and lilting, despite her embarrassment.

"Well, when you don't use your eyes, that would happen. Very foolish to enter a room and not look around, girl." Jasper said and set his cup down on his desk before he approached her. "What are you looking for?"

“Just a trinket of mine, master. I left it here after work.” She said, noting his step toward her. She didn’t tense noticeably, but internally, she was wondering what was next. “I will grab it and leave you to your work, sir. If I may?”

"What kind of trinket?" He asked, now standing in front of her and crossing his arms. He didn't seem upset, just curious, and for the moment he was calm.

She understood the law of attraction, so she knew that, the more she tried to avoid the subject, the more this man would push the envelope. And if she resisted in any noticeable way, she might be punished. Still, after such a long time, she didn’t want to risk losing what she had. She looked up at him enough to study his face under his eyes, but no more.

“It’s a hairbrush. I took it off because I was cleaning and forgot to grab it again. Before I returned to the slave quarters.” She said, not daring to ask if she could search again. “Master wouldn’t want me to come tomorrow looking disheveled...”

"Seems strange to carry around a brush, but what do I know about slave matters." Jasper shrugged slightly. "Go ahead and see if you can find it."

She gave a slight grin. It was irreverent in its own way, even though her eyes were still cast down. The smile was asymmetrical, as if it held some secret.

"My hair is very important to me." she said, and then she returned to the desk, bending over to open the bottom drawer. She pulled out the brush and immediately went to pop it into a threadbare bag she had at her waist. Her shawl opened enough to reveal the sparkly and tight garment beneath. It would have been revealing enough on someone else, but she was practically bursting out of it. "I found it!"

She sounded genuinely excited at having secured the brush, and though she moved quickly, it seemed mixed with positive energy.

Jasper’s eyes went down when the shawl shifted and his eyebrows went up. Obviously earlier he could see she was well gifted even under her uniform, but now with the too little top, there was no denying her shape. Internally he stirred at the sight, and seeing her excited and joyful actually brought a half smile onto his handsome face. “You do have lovely hair. A pretty color. I can see why it would be important to you.”

"Master is too kind." she said, her smile growing warmer and slightly less playful, but no less genuine. She still looked down. It was an expectation that a slave would typically not make eye contact with freeborn people, especially Terrans. Though it wasn't technically against the rules and was sometimes called for, it was a custom most people expected would be followed and a smart slave rarely took a chance on offending a master. Even Immy could quickly have what she most prized taken from her, though, not without a cost to the one who took it. "I remember when my mother used to brush it late at night, when the slums came to life. We would be in our apartment, though, singing songs and talking."

She left out the part where they would go out and steal as much as they could. She always left that part out.

"But you don't care about that, of course." she said, still grinning. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn."

Jasper didn’t comment on his level of care on the topic. It was neither here nor there for him, but he certainly didn’t find it offensive. He just watched her for a moment longer and then finally spoke again. “You may look at me when you speak to me, girl. I’m not going to hurt you or be angry.” He paused and then continued. “You look very Terran.”

She looked up then, with only the slightest hesitation, her playful expression enhanced by her large sparkling brown eyes. Her head was still pointed downward, and there was something almost flirtation in her gaze.

"I am Terran, but very is a matter of opinion." she said, her hands still clasped in front of her. It was a respectful stance, though her expression was somewhat different from it. "Aereus Minor. My great grandmother was Bajoran, master. I was fortunate enough to be spared the disgusting nose ridges, but it still folds kind of funny when I make a funny face."

The winced jokingly, making the promised funny face. It was childish and innocent in its presentation, and though her nose did crease, it was nothing even close to Bajoran. She really just looked like a squinting Terran. She dropped the face, a girlish giggle escaping her lips. She lifted her hand as if to catch it with only the mildest success. The result was a tiny laugh followed by an obvious chastening and an still amused gaze again. Now that she could look at him, her looking was constant and unyielding. She had never managed to truly learn to fear eye contact. In fact, she loved it more than anything else, especially since she was a slave.

"Hm." Jasper reached out and touched her then, the fingers of one hand going under her chin to tilt her head up while his thumb ran over the previously crinkled bridge of her nose. Her giggles and subsequent effort to tame them had made him smile a bit, and his rough hands were gentle on her skin. Curious but undemanding. "You are lucky that didn't carry through your blood then, I think. I know something like Klingon ridges can last through four or five generations before they disappear." He let his hand drop from her face.

As his touch, she lifted her head willingly. She seemed a bit naïve at the touch really, though it was uncertain if that were so.

"Klingons are know for their hard-headedness, genetically and in other ways. I'm grateful the Bajorans are made of softer stuff. I really prefer being soft." she said, relaxing a bit. "And, master knows how poorly alien slaves are treated."

"They are, yes." He moved from her to grab his coffee again and sipped it. He had noticed the way she carried herself, what she presented. It wasn't clear if he was buying into it or not, but either way he didn't seem overly interested. "I must say that is a rather interesting outfit you are wearing, girl. Very... sparkly."

"I like to stand out, master. Though, I typically only get to do it in the slave quarters." she said, happy to be acknowledged. She blushed slightly, giving more color around her delicate freckled face. "And only with the girls. The men get very...hands on, if they see me or any of the other well endowed women wearing so little."

Jasper saw her blush and one brow lifted at it. Perhaps she wasn't simply putting on the typical pretty slave girl act. It was the same with all of them - demure, bat their eyelashes, be shy, sweet, give a few giggles if they felt safe, and make sure their tits were noticed. A blush though, one that actually colored the cheeks, that was impossible - or at least really, really difficult he was sure - to fake.

"And why do you like to stand out, hm?"

She looked at him then, her smile fading slightly. The answer to that question wasn’t one she was ready to give. She decided to give the secondary answer instead.

“I like to be noticed while I’m young. Perhaps, if I can, to feel like a woman instead of the slave I am, just for a moment.” She looked somewhat sad at that, and her eyes flashed something more irritable. “I’ve always wanted to be a star, to be honest, master. I like to be the life of the party. I like to dance, and sing, and get drunk. Even if it means my clothes are too tight and I have to go without makeup.”

He never claimed to be the smartest of men, nor the strongest, nor the most charming, but Jasper was an observant man. He noticed her frown after his question, the moment of indecision. He finished his coffee. "After our run in in Commander Petrov's quarters I did do some reading up on you, Immy." He leaned forward on the desk, folding his hands together and looking at her with his astonishingly blue eyes. "Do you think a naughty girl like you could be a star someday?"

She looked down at the question, seemingly in shame, and she didn’t respond for a while. Then, when she looked into his eyes again, her half grin was back, more playful than ever, and full of trouble.

“There are many kinds of stars, master.” She said, cryptically. Suggestively. She held his eyes in contact with her own. “Many kinds.”

Jasper laughed, the sound deep and clear, charming in its pure levity. Whether she had intended his mind to go where it did he wasn't sure, but he had a feeling she had indeed intended that very thing. He grinned at her then, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, that is true. I imagine you could be quite popular in certain circles."

“You flatter me.” She said with a smile, leaning toward him slightly the angle exposing a closer look at her décolletage. It seemed unaware in a certain respect, like she handler noticed. She then placed her hand over her chest, blocking most of his view. “The Empire could use a good hand model, right?”

Her question was full of mirth, making her quite unusual for a slave. The joke had been freely offered with an open expression. Her eyes watched him, seeming to beg for a smile that would join hers; a laugh for them to share.

Jasper watched her shift and pose, shaking his head and laughing again. "Yes. A hand model. That is the ticket for you, girl." He leaned forward again, watching her. "Just make sure they don't wander to where they shouldn't be, hm?"

"Where shouldn't they be, master?" she asked, her distinctive eyebrows raising at his statement. "It's best to be specific, or else mistakes could be made."

"Are you in the habit of making mistakes?" He challenged in return, leaning closer to her over the desk and putting his chin in one hand as he simply watched her.

"Only the kind I'm meant to make." she responded. There was more than a hint there that she wasn't stupid. He had known that already, of course. "Does master have a favorite mistake he likes to make?"

"Oh, see, I don't make mistakes." He sat back in his chair, sitting straighter and playing at regal. She was enjoying the game and so was he, but he was under no illusions that she wouldn't do this exact same thing with the next man she ran across twenty minutes from now. It was just how they were and truthfully it didn't bother him. He would take the entertainment where he could get it. "I'm just perfect."

"Is that so?" she asked, her look not slave-like at all. She had challenge in her eyes at the statement. She decided challenge was too risky, however, and adopted a much different expression. "I've never met a perfect man before. I can't wait for you to tell me your secret. Or, at least, to show me."

He smirked again. "Now why would I want to do that and show you all my secrets, girl?" He noticed the look. She had fire and definitely was not even remotely half as servile as she played to be. She must have been someone who had some hopeful guarantee of freedom. Not that it worked out well for her being stuck out here in the delta quadrant.

"That, master, is the right question." she said, and her grin became even more devilish. "If master doesn't mind though, I have a date in the slave quarters with a bottle of cheep brandy, some loud music, and a table to dance on."

Jasper chuckled and shook his head before giving a wave of his hand. "Sounds like a better evening than I have planned. Go have fun then, girl. If anyone gives you any grief for not being in quarters just give them my name and I'll vouch for you."

"Thank you, master." she said, a look of subtle surprise on her face. She had fully acknowledged the possibility he would want to show her those secrets now. Slaves sleeping with non-slaves was the most normal thing in the world, but she rarely found herself in such a situation, as a 1st Caste slave was difficult to rape without trouble and she was typically selective about who she laid with willingly. It had made her no friends in the bar, as handsy officers expected her to go home with them. Once or twice, she'd been struck for resisting, even though her resistance was soft and polite. The officers had been punished by Yana Petrova, but the smacks had hurt all the same. "I'll tell them you're looking out for me."

She turned then and moved toward the door, but stopped in the door way and looked back at him. Something was different about him. She couldn't quite figure out what his game was, and that was very rare as far as slave interactions went. She smiled again and waved in a girly way.

"I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."

"Bright and early." Jasper confirmed, slightly distracted as he had already picked up a PADD. "Have fun, girl."

Without another word, she slinked out of the office and into the hallway, moving quickly again now that she was gone, and covering herself again with the shawl.

Briefly, Jasper did glance up after her just before the doors closed, admiring her retreating figure. That one was trouble, but a little fun and games never hurt.

As long as they were played carefully.

END