After work, Nyran decided to take a stroll through the streets of Neshkar, the capital of Cardassia Prime. It helped calm her thoughts every time she felt unsettled. Her foster father, Lahar, used to bring her along when he needed quiet to think. She was the only one who understood that it was a time for silence, not talk, which he appreciated as he was an atypically quiet man himself, at least for a Cardassian.
This time it was different. Lahar was gone and she was being pursued by the very man who brought about his demise. Not to mention commited genocide on her own race. She had a lot to be unsettled about. She left his office shaking, barely able to believe what had happened.
She should have been repulsed -- but she was just a little scared. It was mostly excitement that bubbled in her belly every time she thought about it: his closeness, his words, his kiss... his promise. It was so wrong, but she wanted him to do those things to her again. Her skin was still on fire where he had touched her. She needed more.
The holocommunicator on her wrist pinged.
"Hello Nyran," Dukat's voice sounded and a pleasant chill traveled up her spine. A smile forced itself upon her lips. "I was looking for you, but it seems you already left. Have you changed your mind?"
"You didn't specify day and time, sir," she reminded him in a polite tone. "I'm in the city, just clearing my head."
"Well, if you decide to stop by later, I have something to show you," he purred. "You know where my house is, don't you? The guards will let you in. Don't waste time on too much preparation, I imagine you'll enjoy the luxury of my bathroom."
The holocom chimed and went quiet. Dukat was certainly quite sure of himself. Nyran sighed. After the way she threw herself at him this morning, who could really blame him?
.
On second thought, maybe it would have been easier if she had just let him take her right there on top of his desk.
Nyran was getting more and more nervous as she approached Dukat's house. She was let in by guards and brought to him like a paid escort. There was no romance, no courting. Even an impulsive one-night stand would probably feel better. This was not the fantasy Nyran nursed during long nights of solitude, not the way she imagined her first time would be, even if she omitted the blatant fact that she agreed to get deflowered by her boss who was just looking for some fun.
She felt like an animal cornered by her own acceptance of his advances. She really did not think things through. Now that she was here, though, there was no going back. A man like Dukat would not just let her leave and never speak of it again. She would probably lose her job and her apartment. She might as well head straight to the nearest bridge and jump off of it; there was no homeless shelter for discarded Bajoran ex-slaves and dying quickly without suffering from starvation would be preferable to her.
Dukat, dressed in a tasteful navy blue suit, welcomed her with a warm smile, but immediately noticed that something was wrong. Nyran could not help it; her eyes were wide open, breaths fast and shallow. She could feel her limbs tingle and slowly go numb, when the guard uncompromisingly pushed her through the doorway and closed the door behind her like it was something he did every day. Maybe he did. Oh gods, what had she gotten herself into?
"Nyran," Dukat did not forget to purr her name in case it helped, but there was concern in his voice. He leapt out of his armchair, but did not move in closer, as if afraid to frighten her away. "Are you having second thoughts?"
When she opened her mouth, but only silence poured out, he sighed. It did not take a genius to figure out she was afraid. Of what, was another matter.
"Am I so scary?" Dukat tilted his head to the side. "I quite vividly remember a different reaction when we kissed earlier today. I was looking forward to expanding it... instead I feel like a monster right now. Have I done something wrong?"
"No, sir," she managed to force through her contracted throat. I have, she thought to herself, feeling her palms getting clammy.
Dukat sighed again and made a few trips from one side of the room to the other. When he turned to her, his smile was back, even if it had lost quite a bit of its shine.
"I was thinking... It's been a long day. How about we just... have some dinner and talk?" he suggested in a soft tone. "See where the evening takes us? No pressure."
Just hearing him say that helped Nyran a lot. She was not fooled into thinking he would just accept rejection, but having more time in his relaxed company might do the trick. She had been dreaming about being with him since her first day in this job. All of this fear probably stemmed from the great unknown and the forced way she was trying to obtain this experience.
The blood slowly returned to her extremities and breathing became a lot easier. When she was sure she would not faint as soon as she moved, she smiled at him and took his outstretched hand.
There was a cozy living-room behind one of the doors. Flames were rustling in the fireplace, the lighting was dim and intimate, but nothing as foreboding as a bed in sight. Dukat sat her on the sofa and called for a servant to bring them dinner for two.
Nyran noted that a Cardassian appeared to take the order. It seemed almost strange to her, as during the Occupation it was her race that served them. But there were no more Bajoran slaves around anymore -- or at least supposedly. Some were given freedom, but decided to remain, because they simply liked it here despite the circumstances that brought them to this planet. Most of them returned home.
Sadly, no one offered that option to people like her. People with no memories from before, their ties severed at the roots, their heritage taken from them almost at birth. People whose whole lives were here, on Cardassia, because they knew nothing else. Casualties of war in their own way, even if the actual suffering was inflicted mostly on their original families. No one was about to waste their time and resources on tracking down relatives the victim did not even remember. Perhaps they would provide them transport to Bajor, but searching for their lost families would ultimately be up to them. And most never took that leap.
The conversation somewhat dragged. Dukat kept talking, but Nyran was so nervous she could not think of any clever, discussion inspiring replies. She was scared to say anything about herself and hardly knew anything about him -- except for the obvious things everybody knew: his involvement in the Occupation and his rise from a disgraced rogue freighter captain to a leader, albeit with another occupational force, this time settling over Cardassia.
She knew about his half-bajoran daughter; that actually added some spice to her dreaming about him -- the possibility that he might reciprocate. Not every Cardassian soldier was inclined towards relations with aliens, they were often too proud to stoop to "that level" even if they were secretly interested. And most of them were married and many, unlike Dukat, faithful.
"Maybe my living room isn't the most stimulating place for getting to know each other," Dukat said after a few failed attempts at conversation. "How about we change the scenery?"
Nyran froze, but he laughed.
"No, don't worry, I don't mean the bedroom," he smiled, amused, and drew a nervous chuckle from her as well. "I meant the holosuite. We can go any place you'd like, do whatever tickles our fancy, and not have to leave this house."
"You have your own holosuite?" Nyran's eyes lit up and Dukat's smile grew so wide she began to worry that the upper half of his head would fall off.
"I do. Shall we?" He stood and beckoned her to follow him.
It was a spacious room, but the true beauty of it was never quite apparent until you turned on the projectors and chose a scene. Nyran stopped in the middle of the square floor and waited. Dukat turned to her.
"What would you like to do, Nyran?"
She scanned the tiles with her eyes for a few seconds, then gave him a quick glance.
"Do you have any military training simulations, sir?" she requested timidly. Dukat surprised her with infectious laughter that made the corners of her mouth twist upwards as well.
"Is that really what you thought of first when I mentioned a holosuite?"
Nyran shrugged. "It helps me relax."
Dukat smirked and shook his head in awe. "I really don't know enough about you. Of course I have those, I do love a good combat exercise."
That made her smile more confidently. She felt like she made a positive impression despite her reluctance to seal the deal she had agreed to. It excited her to know that she pleased him in some way.
"You have a beautiful smile," he noted. Getting ready for a fight, she did not even realize he was still watching her. "I hope I can bring it out more often."
Nyran hated how easily he could make her blush. Perhaps one day when she was no longer so green in matters of romance, she would be more in control of the color of her cheeks, but for now he could read her like a PADD*. He chuckled softly, satisfied by her response.
"So, which exercise do you prefer and what role would you like? I'll take whatever's left."
"Do you have 'Bryn Nor under Siege'?"
"Indeed I do." Dukat narrowed his eyes, studying her. "That's a nasty one. Are you sure?"
Nyran nodded without hesitation. It was her favorite one -- nasty, yes, but also rewarding. She enjoyed being the hero saving her people.
Dukat switched on the holoprojectors and entered the program.
"I'm guessing you'll prefer armor to a dress," he gave her current attire a once-over. "There's a dressing room to your left. Replicate yourself whatever you like and meet me back here." He went for the exit, probably to change back to his usual "work clothes".
"Thank you."
When Nyran exited the room, Dukat was already waiting. Her hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head and she was wearing a standard Cardassian armor over a nanotech bodysuit. She saw Dukat's gaze linger over her legs. While down on the planet, a secretary was not required to wear armor at all, so she usually wore reserved, knee-long dresses -- this was the first time he had an unobstructed view of the shape of her thighs and hips. She pretended not to notice the thirst showing in his eyes.
"Computer, give me a PD carbine Indra VK 301** with a digital scope," she said in no particular direction and a lean, elegant weapon appeared out of thin air just above her eye-level. She picked it up and held it with ease, like an experienced soldier. It looked a bit large for her hands, but she seemed to be used to handling it. "My weapon of choice, sir," she explained coyly when she noticed the question in Dukat's face.
"Good choice," he grinned. "Extremely versatile. How do you like it, setting one or two?"
"Fully automatic, sir," she smiled. "For most occasions, especially in this simulation."
"I like to snipe with it," he winked at her. "Alright, then you take the close-ups and I'll take the long-range, agreed?"
"Yes, sir."
.
They completed the exercise in under an hour and with only 23 civilian and 4 military casualties, which was considered a good score for this simulation. Dukat gave her the leading position she requested, curious how she would fare, and then watched with his mouth gaping. He honestly did not think of Nyran as anything more than a pretty face with a sufficiently stimulating mind -- because no amount of pretty could make up for the dull. She proved him so wrong.
She was like a hurricane. A well-behaved one that knew exactly what to do in any given situation. She was able to make the best of every opportunity and navigated her soldiers with the ease of a leader with years of field experience. Of course, it was just an exercise, limited in many ways, but the potential she showed had him in awe.
There was this bloodthirsty gleam in her eyes when she cut down everything standing in her way. He expected her to be reluctant to order him around, but she yelled at him just as furiously as she yelled at everyone else under her command. She kept her focus on the goal and went for it in the straightest line possible, while still taking every care to keep her troops and the civilian bystanders alive. She seemed to thrive on the guerilla style of combat, taking cover wherever she could find it, using random items lying around to help her situation, obviously knowing the scene very well.
He noticed she lacked hand-to-hand finesse and preferred to avoid unarmed fight wherever possible, but the disruptor rifle was so natural in her hands that one might think she was born with it. She shot with relaxed, almost lazy precision and probably scored more kills than half her squad combined. When she ran out of power in the middle of a firefight and one of the simulated enemies charged her, she butted him in the head with the body of the gun and had a new powercell loaded and ready to finish him off before he managed to scramble to his feet. The matter-of-fact expression she had the whole time sent shivers up Dukat's spine.
She was scary and that was something that made Dukat both respect her and yearn for her even stronger. Her well-mannered self he knew from the palace was great for public relations, but this fiery demon he had discovered underneath would make their private life so much more fun.
"I'm immensely glad you weren't raised by any rebels, my dear," he said to her when they were heading back to the living-room for the already cold dinner. "You might have helped them really make us pay before they drove us out."
"I've done this exercise maybe a few dozen times, it doesn't vary that much," she shook her head modestly after chugging down a whole glass of rokassa juice. "I doubt I would be any good at a real encounter. You see, I know that these people aren't real, so it doesn't matter if I shoot them or not. My trainers at the academy were trying to convince me to take the same approach with actual people, but it wouldn't fly. Which is why I ended up being a non-combatant, even though I've passed all the physical tests. I just can't. I didn't create life, I have no right to destroy it."
"The Federation would definitely agree with that sentiment," he smirked. "Your respect towards life can be viewed as admirable. But you have to understand that sometimes -- and it could happen even to you -- not taking the lives of the enemy actually means losing the lives you care about. And believe me, Nyran, that hurts more."
"I know," she nodded, a cloud falling over her face. "But I guess I'll only know what I'm capable of if such a moment comes. In any case, I've completed about six hundred hours of exercises beyond the required amount just to make sure I won't be a burden on anyone if I ever happen to be forced to fight. Not sure how much help I will be in a real combat situation, but at least I won't freeze with my hands on a gun."
"I like your enthusiasm," Dukat smiled. "Preparation is half the job. And I know now that I won't have to hesitate when I'm supposed to give you a pistol to protect your comrades."
Nyran gave him a strange, suspicious look.
"Did you hire me because of my looks, sir?"
"How direct of you," Dukat laughed. "That deserves an honest answer: yes. I didn't skip any information in your file, but all your results were comparable to other applicants. So I went with my gut. It's nice having something pretty to look at; it reduces stress."
The flush on her face revealed the indignation he inflicted. It made him chuckle. If he had known she was no fragile flower, he would have provoked her more. A heated exchange was more exciting to most Cardassians than any other kind of flirting.
"I'm not just something pretty, sir," she almost growled. "Maybe you should think twice about insulting someone you might depend on to keep you alive one day."
"I have a ton of loyal soldiers for that, why would I spoil my fun with the only piece of gorgeous Bajoran meat I could get my hands on lately?"
Nyran gasped, but he could tell there was more than shock in it. He reminded himself that although she was born Bajoran, there was a good chunk of Cardassian nurture in her. She probably enjoyed herself as much as he did.
"Let's say all your men die gloriously guarding you, but the attackers overlook that innocent-looking piece of meat at your side, because she doesn't look like a threat," she smiled, venom mixed into the sweetness of it. "I guess no one would really blame me if I kept on pretending to be just a defenseless clerk to save my own skin," she narrowed her eyes.
"You wouldn't risk betraying me, my dear," he sneered. "I'm a tough man to kill. You may survive that way, but eventually it would bite you in that cute little ass."
"I'd like to see you try," she scoffed.
Only at that moment did they realize they were leaning towards each other. Dukat could almost kiss her, how close they got.
And so he did.
And got no objections from her.
At least for a while. As soon as his hands started reaching under her skirt, she tensed up again. Dukat sighed quietly and let go of her. She obviously needed more time to get used to him, more time to start trusting him.
"How about we return to the holosuite," he suggested, as they already ate their cold dinner, "and you show me how you handle one exercise you hate the most?"
.
It was very late, when they stumbled out of the holosuite, laughing.
"That was terrible," roared Dukat. "I couldn't get it tied up fast enough and then you bust in like a bull and it all just goes up in flames instead!"
"We failed miserably, sir," Nyran chuckled. "But I think we're tired. Also, the meal was quite heavy. At one point I actually started yawning, my focus was nowhere near where I needed it."
"I'm so glad that was just a simulation," he shook his head. "Still, it was fun." He smiled at her and hugged her around the shoulders. "You are fun."
"So are you, sir," she grinned contently. "I'm glad I came to visit you tonight. It's really time to go, though."
"You should stay," Dukat said, looking out the windows at the darkness disturbed only by city lights. "It's not safe to walk home alone at night."
"Are you scared I'd get hurt?" she tilted her head playfully. "Or that someone else might get the spoils before you?"
Dukat laughed. He found her suspicion adorable.
"It didn't even occur to me, little one," he shook his head, expression turning solemn. "The Jem'Hadar° have no bodily desires... but they do like violence. Sometimes people go missing and it's not because they were politically uncomfortable. I think they kill time by beating up random people, just because they're bored and because they can."
"That's disturbing," the cheer on Nyran's face faded. "Why would they do that? Aren't we allies?"
"Not really, Nyran," Dukat sighed. "Maybe we would have been, before they wiped out all our strength. But not now. We're just saving our skin, using them to help us get back on our feet. But the cost might eventually be too high."
He touched her arm.
"Stay, please. I have enough spare rooms. Although, you're free to stay in my bed, too. It's been a while since someone slept beside me, keeping me warm. Don't worry, I'm way too tired to try anything now," he grinned.
Nyran gave his idea some thought. Finally, she smiled back at him and nodded.
"I think I'd appreciate the company as well."
_____________________________________
* PADD - personal access display device - sort of like electronic readers (Kindle), trekkies use them as data carriers, instead of papers and such. I used the term "datapad" in the first chapter, as the footnotes were getting a bit long, which is probably acceptable as well.
** Thoroughly made up by me :). My only expertise in weapons comes from gaming, so... bear with me.
» This is supposed to be a light, easily operated disruptor rifle firing tiny bolts of energy (instead of beams), automatic for mid-range encounters, single-shot for precision long-range shooting, not as powerful as some other models, but with very little recoil. The bolts generated medium force, not enough to knock people back, but enough to make them miss their shots (other rifles, as I imagine, would have various properties, like even firing projectiles for the extra force, or completely relying on beams creating zero recoil along with zero force). The scope is able to detect body heat through light obstructions like smoke.
» Just in case you play the same games as I do and recognize the name and number, "Indra" is an automatic sniper rifle from Mass Effect 3 multiplayer (not my top choice, my go-to SR is N7 Valiant, but the name has special meaning to me), while the "R-301" carbine is my (and everyone's, really) favorite AR in APEX Legends.
° Jem'Hadar were a genetically engineered breed of ruthless soldiers created by the Dominion. All they needed to sustain them was a substance called ketracel-white, which was given to them by the species called the Vorta (Dominion lieutenants) as a means of ensuring loyalty (they were addicted to it). They had no females (they were bred artificially, growing rapidly, capable of full service in matter of days after birth, if they lived to their 20 years at all they were considered honored elders), didn't need to eat and sleep and beside fighting and killing did nothing that could be considered "fun". They were all huge and scaly with funny shaped heads (imo), just google if you like. Though the "royal guard" around the female Founder had pretty neat jewelry on their faces (over the nose and in between brows) that made them look a lot better, which I only noticed during my maybe third time watching DS9, as I was usually too focused on the Cardassians in the last season :D.