A Rebel In The Ranks

Chapter 1

"So, this is the little assassin that has been an enornous pain in my neck these past few months. Why, she's nothing more than a little girl! Barely a woman! To think she got the better of two Legion strongholds and their Generals. Pathetic." He nearly spat out the last word, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. At this, Oleandra's head jerked up in defiance as some loose strands moved aside to reveal her face. Her eyes burned with fury. At the sight of her face, his eyes changed from their proud clarity to a sort of glazed over look. Oleandra's eyes widened as she saw desire creep into the General's gaze. She quickly turned away, whipping her head back down and making sure her hair covered her face once again, but it was too late. 

"Show me your face, girl." Oleandra remained where she was, unmoving. "I said, show me your face." He repeated the words more forcefully this time. When she didn't move in response, he gestured to the guards. They hoisted her up by her elbows so that she rested on her knees. She grunted in pain. One guard grabbed her chin and jerked it up. The hair flew from her face as the soldier's hand held her strongly by the chin, forcing her to face the Legatus. His eyes seemed to scan her now revealed body, resting on her face. She felt naked in front of him; with so many other men staring at her, the same lust reflected in their eyes. 

"Well, you're a pretty one, aren't you?" She was struggling in the soldier's grasp now, desperately trying to free her face from his grip. She was able to jerk her head back and catch the soldier's hand between her teeth. Oleandra bit down as hard as she could, not stopping even when she tasted blood in her mouth. The soldier howled in pain. He tore his hand free and slapped her across the face with a crack. "And spirited, I see," the General added, unfazed by the soldier's ourburst. This time, the soldier learned. He grabbed her by the neck with one hand and held the other one over her mouth.

"I see now how you managed to get in and out of so many strongholds unnoticed. Tell me, did you seduce many of the guards before you slit their throats?" A dark, cruel grin spread across his face and a few of the other men in the room let out low chuckles. The Legatus' dark, slick hair and matching shiny black eyes seemed to pierce her, but she stared back at him with fire in her eyes. He broke his gaze first, resorting to picking the dirt out from under his nails, now seemingly uninterested. "My soldiers grow lonely on this long, tiresome journey. What say you, men? Shall we tie her up and pass her around?" Years of training had taught Oleandra how to hide her feelings. But now, that training abandoned her as she felt the fear creep into her eyes, like a shadow slithering across the ground. Then it happened. A voice called out against the chorus of grunts of approval that came from the other soldiers. 

       "No." All eyes turned to the source of the voice. The purples stripes on his epaulettes designated him to be a Centurion. Unlike the other men in the room, his face was hidden by his helmet, but Oleandra could make out two brilliant golden eyes. He ignored the stares from the other men and stepped forward. He knelt in front of the Legatus, resting on one knee. Clearly the General was particularly fond of this one Centurion, as instead of anger, his eyes shone with a sort of curious admiration. "Centurion Desmond. To what do I owe this," he paused, seeming to decide on the right words, "unexpected outburst?" The Centurion cleared his throat, clearly aware of the General's fondness towards him, but unwilling to push his luck. His head remained respectfully bowed. "Forgive me, Legatus Conus, for interrupting, but I too have grown lonely over this long and tiresome journey. I'd prefer not to share such pleasantries with the entirety of the Legion. If it would please my Lord I would request that you allow me this one, small indulgence."  At this, he brought his eyes up to face Conus and gestured behind him at Oleandra. 

The General seemed to ponder this for a moment before sighing. The cruelty in his eyes faded as he adjusted himself in his seat. "Very well. Do as you will with her." A few soldiers let out low, annoyed growls, but Conus ignored them. He gestured to the soldiers restraining Oleandra. "Have her brought to Centurion Desmond's sleeping quarters." 

And with that, the soldiers began dragging Oleandra away, back down the winding corridors. Between her writhing and thrashing, she was able to catch one last glimpse of the sun before it slipped below the mountains, bathing the world in darkness. 

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Desmond knew that what he had done was risky, but he couldn't help it when he saw her face. 

She was beautiful, plain and simple. She had lightly tanned, cream colored skin, unblemished except for a small scar below her bottom lip. Her long, black hair, though tangled and wild at the moment, seemed to be woven out of the night sky, as dark as a raven. She had nearly cristalline features, with full, pink lips that formed a perfect cupid's bow.  Her eyes, a piercing, intelligent and cold blue color, were framed by thick, dark lashes that contrasted so perfectly with her skin.  

She must have known she was beautiful, because she had tried to hide it so well. And she had almost gotten away with it, if it weren't for that pride of hers. She couldn't help but look at the General with fury when he had insulted her. She must have realized her mistake when the General looked at her, because was sure that he had seen some semblance of fear in her eyes before she turned her head away again. Then there was that bit with the biting the guard. Desmond couldn't help but smile at that one. 

The truth was, she reminded him a bit of his sister. Not in the way that she looked, but in the way she held her gaze; that innocent face with those fiery eyes. So when the General had talked about giving her over to the men, Desmond had felt the urge to stop it. He knew she was an assassin, and enemy of the Republic, but he couldn't even think of that kind of thing happening to her, or his sister for that matter. So he stepped up and did the obvious thing. 

He requested her as his personal concubine. 

He didn't actually get to see her face when he suggested it, but it must have been indication enough that she hated the idea for Conus to agree that it was sufficient punishment for her crimes. Desmond knew that Conus held a particular fondness for him, but it had been a risky move even with the General's favor.

Now she was tied up in his quarters, waiting for him. She probably hated him right about now, and he couldn't blame her. High-ranking officers like himself got their own living quarters, and now he stood outside to doors to his room, debating on what he would say to her. How he would explain himself. Would she believe him? Would she call him a son-of-a-bitch and curse him all the way to the Underworld? He smiled thinking about that defiant stare of hers that had probably gotten her into so much trouble over the years.

She definitely had some fire in her. Maybe a little more than was good for her.