TITLE: "INCUBUS" 
AUTHOR: Gayle Rochefort-Potts 
CONTACT: tpotts@sprint.ca 
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/taitlu/
SERIES: MIRROR/DS9 
PAIRINGS: B'Etor/m 
RATING: NC-17 

DISCLAIMER: TPTB have all the rights and the money... we have
all the fun and the imagination.

SUMMARY: M/B'Etor reveals interesting ways to spend a day.

NOTE:(Incubus definition: (Webster's) 1. An evil spirit that is
supposed to descend upon sleeping persons. 2.something that
oppresses someone like a nightmare.)



"Incubus" (c) November 2001 
- - - - - -

The fogginess that clouded her mind was slowly leaving her. She
licked the powder from the palm of her hand and breathed in
sharply as the effect took hold. With each breath, matters
became clearer. She had obtained her last supply with some
difficulty and that had led to her latest and larger order. The
Vulcans were not good for much, in her opinion, but this native
moss was the best hallucinogenic money could buy. She had
learned over the years just how much to ingest to get just the
right sensation... euphoric without loosing the sense of things
around her.

"B'Etor."

B'Etor stretched and answered lazily, "Yes, my sister... what
is your wish so early in the morning?" She opened one eye and
looked towards the door.

Lursa shook her head. "Don't you think you waste enough latinum
on that stuff?"

"I have my vices, just as you choose to buy your body slaves."
She stretched again then sat up. She looked to the empty side of
her bed and wondered if it was time to find at least one body
slave for herself.

"We are expected places today and you need to have a clear head."

"We are merely taking over a small colony, hardly worth clear
thought." She pulled out the warrior's garb she would wear
today. She left her sister's presence long enough to prepare for
her day. As she brushed through her long dark hair, she called
out to her sister. "What do you have planned for this colony
once we acquire it?"

Her sister's voice carried through the door; she must have been
standing close by. "I thought it would add to our price for a
seat on the Council."

B'Etor smiled, "Perhaps it should be offered for an alliance?"
She pulled on the soft undergarments; they felt comforting to
her.

"No doubt you would wish it to be the Regent?" Lursa teased her
about her attraction for Regent Worf of the House of Mogh, a
most powerful catch. She leaned against the frame of the closed
door.

B'Etor slid the door open her manner was not calm. "I do not
know why you bring his name up all the time."

"Because you desire him."

B'Etor dismissed Lursa's comment with a roll of her eyes and
she pulled on her soft armour. She fastened it tightly against
her body.

"That is why you have taken to the yekuhl... because you can
not have the Regent."

B'Etor growled at her sister, "Take care, Sister, I do not take
so much yekuhl that I can not sink my taj deep into your chest."
She picked up the razor sharp dagger, pointed it at her
sister... paused, then slipped it into its waist-sheath.

~~~~~~~~~~~

B'Etor sat back heavily in the command chair on the bridge of
her small fighter. A twin of her sister's in every regard, with
the exception of the registry marks and, in B'Etor's opinion,
hers was the better crew. She had chosen her crew carefully,
accepting even some of the older warriors... as long as their
allegiance was only to her and they were willing to pay with
their lives. It was a small price to pay for certain victories.

Today's mission had been a successful... more successful than
they had anticipated. They had acquired the colony, the small
world it inhabited and a great deal of hidden latinum... and a
previously unknown source of ngem tIr, a wild grain that grew in
the forests... it was an ingredient for a toxic compound that
could be used as a weapon. However, in very minute doses, it
made an excellent hallucinogenic.

B'Etor looked at the wide gash in her arm that had happened
during the first attack on the colony. The colonist that had
caused the injury was given the privilege of dying at her
hand... he was sliced down the length of his body, with B'Etor's
own be'joy blade and left to bleed to death. He had excellent
stamina... and unfortunately was quite a worthy warrior... he
lasted almost four hours before he asked to be released.

B'Etor had tired of watching him, so she honoured his request
and used his own bat'leth to severe his head from his body. The
weapon now hung in her private quarters as a trophy.

"HoD B'Etor..." The elder Klingon warrior bowed his head; he
was the ship's surgeon and had come to the bridge to repair her
arm.

"Be quick." B'Etor closed her eyes and relaxed in the chair as
her sleeve was untied and slipped off her arm. She glanced at
the injury with some detachment.

The surgeon reached into the bag slug across his body, he
pulled out the newly acquired dermal regenerator. He made a few
adjustments then began to repair the muscle in the young
warrior's upper arm.

"Do not forget to leave a scar." She was already planning out
the tattoo she would have done, incorporating the scar and the
tale of the take-over.

The surgeon bowed his head but never once taking his eyes from
his work. Her arm had to be fully functional and he had spent
far too many credits for this piece of equipment to be sloppy in
its application. He adjusted his hold on her arm, muttering an
apology for having to touch her in the least. He sealed the
wound, leaving the crescent-shaped scare behind.

B'Etor glanced at the end result, nodded then waited as her
sleeve was placed and retied. "Navigator, head for home."

"Yes, HoD B'Etor."

B'Etor stood. "I will be in my quarters if needed." She stepped
down from the raised chair then calmly circled the bridge
stations before leaving. She had to insure that all her orders
were carried out. Now she would send word to the correct ones
that would filter their accomplishment to Regent Worf... perhaps
with the right about of power, he might just begin to see her as
a possible mate.

The door slid shut behind her. She flexed her hand and moved
her arm, testing the repair work. It would do. She knew that she
would have to spend some time building the strength and
dexterity up to her usual level.

She sat in the large comfortable chair, reached to the wide arm
and opened the concealed compartment. She withdrew and small
case, inside was a hypo spray and contained within was her
second favourite drug... it was a mild aphrodisiac and would
fuel her dreams.

She knew she would have just over an hour to enjoy her
solitude. She adjusted the dose and pressed the sprayer to the
inside of her wrist. She felt the immediate flush and then the
warm glow that slowly moved along her body. The spray was
returned to its hiding place and she settled into the chair for
her deliciously seductive dreams.

~~~~~~~

An afternoon in the trader's market sounded like the perfect
way to end her week. B'Etor had been giving some serious thought
as to ownership of a body slave and this was the best place to
purchase one.

The low lighting and the heavy scented air seemed to envelope
B'Etor as she stepped into her favourite place. It was an
establishment within the trader's market that specialized in the
buying and selling of anything that had to do with pleasuring
oneself. Among the selections were exotic cloths, perfumes of
every type, both addictive and non-addictive drugs and of
course... body slaves.

B'Etor bowed her head to the owner, Kor. He had been at one
time a warrior in his own right but after discovering that he
could have a better future in selling rather than killing... or
being killed... he and his mate opened up this place. The
signage read; 'Qu'nong qub' and the translation was 'The Rare
and Passionate Quest'. One needed a certain station to even
enter this establishment and B'Etor was welcomed with the
courtesy awarded to the high-ranking warrior that she was.

Immediately, a female slave appeared, dressed in revealing
clothing and offered to guide her to a private place where she
could buy whatever suited her fancy. The female slave carried a
large carafe of sweet bloodwine.

"toy'wI. I want yekuhl, the highest quality." B'Etor hesitated
for a moment then crooked a finger at the slave. "A body slave
that is prepared for purchase, male and he must be of excellent
stock." She looked around the room at the ones that were busy.
"I do not want one that is used up."

The servant nodded, "Vulcan, joH?"

B'Etor nodded. She settled into the chair, her feet resting on
the ottoman. She picked up the goblet that had been filled by
the servant and sipped on the vintage bloodwine. There were
definite pleasures to be had when one held a certain position.
Her sister, Lursa, was preoccupied with spending her time
attempting to get their younger brother into the Council. B'Etor
did not believe that her brother would live long enough to
serve. He was... stupid and sloppy in his demeanour. He chose
his associates with little care and his bedmates with even less.
He would die in his bed and at the hand of one that would not be
worthy of the blood shed; she was certain of that.

She saw the servant weaving through the crowded common room.
Her own area was sectioned off with curtains that hid her
presence; but she was able to watch the coming and goings of the
others.

She took another long sip of the wine. She had heard that the
Regent frequented this place, she was not surprised as the
security here was the best money could buy. The owner had no
objection in the least to the use of your own guards, just as
long as they were not the ones to start the fights. Perhaps she
would be fortunate and the Regent would find his way here today.
She mentally began to add up her assets... she would soon have
enough to establish herself as a possible candidate for the
Regent's mate. She sipped again on the wine, there was a part of
her that would settle for being *his* bed slave... for a price.

The female servant parted the curtains and bowed. By her side
was a Vulcan of extraordinary looks and gait. He seemed self-
assured and not to mention absolutely delightful in his tall
boots, tight pants, gloved hands and open shirt... a perfect
selection for a body slave as well. Now if her yekuhl would be
as delicious, her night would be made.

"joH B'Etor, may I present, Taurik, he is a seller of yekuhl."
B'Etor was slightly disappointed that he was not hers, but then
again, anything was hers for the taking... and for the right
price.

B'Etor stood and gestured for the female to leave. She watched
with interest as this Vulcan male knelt at her feet. She reached
down and teased at the dark silky hair. "What you sell is of a
good quality?"

"It is the finest, joH B'Etor." Taurik reached into the pouch
that was at his side and withdrew a small packet of yellowish
powder. He offered it to the female warrior as he stood. He had
not been surprised in a long time in who actually used drugs...
but their dependencies did defy all logic. He had also noted on
his way in that one of her personal guards remained just beyond
the curtains and had refused any manner of food or drink, no
doubt the guard did this to avoid drugging of any kind.

"And the price for your ownership is not too high I trust."

Taurik did not even flinch when B'Etor moved closer to touch
his thigh. She had a caring touch unlike most of the females he
had to deal with. He noticed the off colouring to her skin, the
sign of a heavy yekuhl user... at least she still had her wits
about her. He drew in a slow deep breath as her hand moved up
his thigh, then gently traveled to the inside of his leg. "I was
not aware that you desired... other services." He allowed her
touch to continue as he slipped the pouch of drugs from his
shoulder. He held it for a moment searching for a reasonably
protective spot for it. He may have to trust this Klingon but
there were others that would have taken the drugs within a
heartbeat.

B'Etor's mouth barely touched the warmth of his neck. She could
almost taste the Vulcan's skin. She was aware of his movements,
and of his search for a safe place for his supply. She wrapped
her hand around the straps, just under his hand, she met his
eyes, "I will secure this for you."

Taurik bowed his head slightly, and watched as B'Etor slipped
the pouch in the drawer under the chair. If all went as this
Klingon wished it to, he would be hers.

She arranged the drape of fabric to hide the existence of the
drawer. "Safe for the present."

B'Etor caressed her way up his bare arm, across his shoulders,
her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and she pulled him
to her. Her mouth claimed his, the pressure of the kiss
increased. She felt him take a step closer to her. She dropped
back her head offering her bared throat to him, a sign of trust
and surrender.

Taurik gently nipped at the base of her neck. He reached into
her hair, cradling her head as his mouth moved up her neck
increasing the pressure of his bites. He felt her moan and as he
reached the soft area just under her chin and sank his teeth
slowly into her flesh... she growled.

B'Etor stepped back to catch her breath. Somehow she managed to
still be in possession of the small packet of yekuhl in her hand
and she wanted some before matters got out of hand. She reached
into the packet pulling out a pinch of the heavy powder between
her fingers. Expertly she resealed the small packet and placed
it in the hidden pocket she had designed into the bust of her
armour.

She rubbed the powder between her finger and thumb, watching as
it fell into the centre of her palm. She opened her hand and
offered some to Taurik.

Taurik shook his head. "I do not indulge."

B'Etor licked the powder; she felt the tingle on her tongue and
then the flush travel along her body. She offered what was left
on her hand to Taurik, "There is not much there."

Taurik acquiesced; he held her hand and drew his tongue along
her palm. He watched her as he did this; her eyes were becoming
bright and glassy. He would experience very little... just
enough of an affect to feel a light euphoria. He had, in the
little time he had spent with her, seemed to develop a marginal
trust in her. She was not crass, rough or unthinking in her
treatment of him. Despite the fact that she obviously wished to
be pleased, she seemed to hold some interest for his pleasures
as well.

Taurik moved with B'Etor towards the bed that had been provided
to her. The area she had chosen was one of the larger 'rooms'.

B'Etor reached to the tie fastening the Vulcan's hair back. She
preferred to have his hair loose and flowing. She closed her
eyes and breathed in the incense that permeated the air. She had
ordered some to be placed within the area and from experience
that it was a mild aphrodisiac. At least this would 'help' the
mood along and bring some interest to him.

Taurik was unsure as to how to proceed with this female. He
moved closer to her, his fingers worked at the fasteners to her
skirt and received no objections as it fell away from her.

Care was taken with each of his touches on her body, he was
aware that she held his life in her hands. He had also
determined that if he pleased her, she was prepared to pay the
price for his ownership. She had stated that he was able to
retain his drug selling, but instead of the profits going to
Kor... they would be hers.

In the back of her mind she identified the far off growl; it
was the Regent. She drew in a deep breath, allowing herself to
drift deeper into the drug-induced pleasure. Hands that stroked
her skin she imagined to be 'his'... strong hands that would
rule a universe one day. The Regent's dark hair was imagined to
fall around her head, she breathed in the incense and wondered
what scent 'his' skin would have.

B'Etor whispered for this male to enter her, to complete the
dream of being taken by the Regent. She listened to the hot
breathe by her ear, she felt the fast beating of the heart
against her chest... his fingers grabbed her hair, pulling it as
his body shook with release. She pulled him in deeper, holding
him tight against her as she moaned for more. He licked her
throat, nipped it gently, arousing her further then sunk his
teeth into her bare shoulder.

Her reaction was almost immediate... her body reached for his,
pulled him hard against her, driving her long nails into his
soft skin... and then she growled as the wave of pleasure took
her over.

"More yekuhl..." she whispered into the elegant ear. She had
barely recovered from her climax and her thoughts were on
another. She needed to maintain the euphoria, and the illusion.
She ran her hands over his bare body, into his long silky hair
then captured his mouth.

The warm mouth kissed her back, nipped at her lips then she
felt the soft powder being sprinkled into her open mouth.

"joH B'Etor, I am yours to serve."

= = = = = = = = = =

Months later....

Taurik stood by the computer terminal in the common room, by
the long couch. He was choosing another Klingon opera to read.
As a Vulcan he had the intellect that slaves seldom had; and as
B'Etor's favourite, he had the freedom to exercise this
intellect in any way he chose to.

He looked up from the download to discover Lursa entering the
room. He had not seen her in a few days, B'Etor had mentioned in
passing that she was off seeing to her own agenda... that of
seeing their younger brother brought into power. The download
finished with a gentle beep, he took the PADD and headed for the
couch to sit and read.

Lursa looked to this too well dressed bedslave. The tight
fitting clothing that he wore was perfectly suited in cut and
colour; this was partially covered with luxurious robes; his
hair was tied back with expensive leathers. "She is in the mood
for reading?"

"The reading is mine, joH Lursa." He spoke without thinking of
the consequences.

"You? Reading?" Lursa stared at this one for a moment; he
lifted his head to meet her eyes. Lursa crossed the room in
three steps her hand snapped up and slapped his face. "Eyes
down... as befitting a slave." She spit at him.

Taurik felt the sting slowly creeping across his cheek and the
pull in his neck muscle coming to his attention. "As you
command, joH Lursa."

Lursa stared at him. "My sister needs to correct your
behaviour. She needs to be reminded that your position is
beneath her... not beside her."

Taurik stood quiet for a moment, finding the control for his
embarrassment. "joH B'Etor is the one that chooses what I wear
and she is the one that determines my activities."

"Perhaps my sister needs to be reminded exactly what a bedslave
is for?"

Taurik smiled inwardly, "I assure you, joH Lursa, she is well
aware."

Lursa raised her hand but was stopped. She looked to the hand
that surrounded her wrist... it was her sister.

"He is mine to discipline, not yours. Go find one of yours to
beat." B'Etor looked to Taurik. "I trust you have arranged for
mid-meal."

"I have, joH B'Etor. It will be brought to the dining room in a
matter of minutes." He cast a sideways glance to Lursa. "There
is enough for another to join you."

B'Etor caught his glance and his silent suggestion. "Lursa,
would you care to join me for mid-meal?"

"Join you, or will your pet be with us?"

Taurik took the hint, he bowed his head, "I will take me
leave..."

"I did not dismiss you." B'Etor looked to Lursa, "I will have
the company I choose at my meals. Do you or do you not wish to
join me?"

Lursa weighed the effects of not joining her. There was already
a rift between them over the accumulated wealth for their
brother; this did not have to be added to the wedge that was
beginning to separate the two sisters. "I would be honoured, My
Sister."

~~~~~~

B'Etor drew in a breath, feeling the effects of the powder on
her tongue. "This is an exceptionally good yield?" She stretched
and reached to Taurik pulling him to her. "Pleasure me."

Taurik's hand moved slowly down her body, teasing and caressing
her along the path. In the short time he had been with her, he
was beginning to develop a degree of caring for this Klingon
female. Odd he thought as to the depth of the caring, perhaps it
was because he had not been offered a place before this. Not
only in bed with her, but at times, he stood at her side.

He was becoming concerned with her increase use of the yekuhl.
He was trying to monitor the dosages. Last night he had a taste
of B'Etor's anger when he refused to give her more of the
yekuhl. She had been drinking bloodwine as well and the two were
a toxic combination if taken too extremes and she seemed
determined to take matters to the limit... for some unknown
reason. His body still held the bruises of his 'disciplining'.
He had spent the morning cleaning up after her tantrum.
Paintings, statues, and dishes were thrown at him, luckily
missing him each time. The bedding was pulled off and thrown
into the corner as her anger became frenzied, a result of the
high levels of yekuhl in her system.

Taurik's hand moved into her hair, brushing it back from her
face. His fingers brushed over her forehead ridges, tracing the
pattern he had committed to memory. "Why do you do this?" He
asked in a soft voice.

"Do what?"

"Yekuhl." He wanted to slip into her thoughts, find the reason,
he suspected she might have pushed the reason so far into the
back of her mind that she was not aware of it any longer.

"I have my reasons." She pushed him out of the way and sat up
reaching to the small packet containing the pinkish powder. It
was taken from her hand; she glared at him. "You need not
concern yourself... you are merely a slave." Even to her ears
the words did not sound convincing.

Taurik dropped the packet onto the nightstand, and then pulled
her down into the covers. He nipped at her lips, "Then command
me, joH'wI." He was pleased when her hands reached into his hair
and pulled him down. She captured his mouth; she bit into his
lip... but not hard enough to make it bleed. He knew enough
about her habits that she would save the taste of his blood for
later.

Taurik pulled at her hair, bending her neck backwards, his
mouth tasting her throat. He knew this coupling would be a
battle of power, one over the other and he intended to win this
one.

B'Etor shivered. She did not want to react to him, but she
could not stop herself. His touch was one that she savoured. His
mouth moved lower, tasting the skin on her shoulder, then down
her arm biting into but not breaking the skin. He was skilled.
She inhaled sharply, uncontrollably, as his mouth sucked in her
breast. His hot mouth surrounded the sensitive nipple and his
tongue teased it unmercifully. She heard herself growl, low and
deep in her throat.

Taurik moved covering her body in order to feel the minute
movements of her muscles under him. He continued to suckle her,
moving to the other breast when she could take no more contact
on the one. She wrapped her legs around his body, pulling him
tight against her, her body arching against his.

Taurik moved his hands up to her shoulders; he pulled himself
up slightly, capturing her mouth. He tasted her, ran his tongue
along her teeth, nipped at her lips... then without preamble or
permission reached deeply into her thoughts.

B'Etor's body stiffened with the invasion. She wanted to scream
at him, to throw him off of her. How dare he presume that he was
allowed to touch her in this manner? Her eyes widened, his were
so dark... and she fell into them.

Taurik felt his own body stiffen for a second, until he
separated his thoughts from hers. It took another moment to find
his way through the fogginess that the drug caused in her mind.
He had not done this in a very long time; he had the skills that
many had paid for... a skill to reach into another's thoughts
without hesitation or preparation. He did not loose himself in
the melds as many did. He began his search for the dark notions
that seemed to, at times, overtake her. This was when she used
the yekuhl the most.

How had that Vulcan brought this up in her? Had she been
running from this all along? Her drug state had been lifted and
the pains swept in.

~~

Scenes begin to unfold... flashes of memories...

It had been lifetime since she had visited this place. She
comes upon familiar surrounding. She is before a tombstone
remembering a pain. Fear and anticipation. Been the first time
in a lifetime that she has been back. Hello my friend we meet
again. She stuck at the stone with a bat'leth.  It sparks and it
descends into a flash back.

She is moving to the hard music going on in the hall and they
bump into each other. Meeting at an Opera: childhood friends.
Hello my friend we met again. Room spins as they lose themselves
in each other. He is tall and elegant looking. Nothing like the
ruffians that these others boys are. She remembered him to be
smart and funny nothing like her brothers. He was studying
science and was gentle with her always. And he was being very
solicitous. She liked his smile. And that way he looked at her
made her warm and beautiful.

A perfect love that you gave to me. Fell in love. After the
coupling he snuggles her breast and he toys with his hair. In
bed in her room very passionate, he bit her palm sniffs it and
she curls her fingers inward cutting into her palms. Reciting
poetry form a popular modern opera they have both seen: When you
are with me I am free. I am careless. I believe. Above all the
others we'll fly. This brings tears to my eyes.

"You are so sentimental are all men cry-babies?"

"We are more sensitive to the complexities, joys and sorrows of
the Klingon experience than you females."

"I guess that is why you are the poets. More than one use for
you all. I have never cried in my life nor to I intend to."

"Tears wash away the fears and fortify the soul. You should try
it my dearest love."

"Perhaps in child birth one day, My sacrifice."

As he climbs down, the pinnacle of her happiness... her father
entered. "What the hell are you doing?" Her eyes open and he
suspects something and looks down the wall, and notices a
shadow. "What is going on?" and throws her to the bed. He calls
to her mother, "What is this? Blood on her sheet from losing her
virginity! Now you are useless to me!" She was backhanded.

Her tears.

"Do not cry daughter. Who was it? That boy I saw you talking
to. I am going to contact his parent and demand satisfaction."

"No Father... he is the one."

"He has dishonoured his family and ours. You were intended to
another now I can't use you. You are dead to me. You might as
well be gone."

Then the meeting between the fathers... "Your son defiled my
daughter."

"If that is the case then I suppose you are demanding
satisfaction."

"Indeed I am. He is your only son."

"Yes he is my heir but that is no matter what must be done must
be done. Shall I bring him over?"

"No, let him come on his own."

"As you wish."

The boy stood up to her father. "I claim her."

B'Etor felt fear... then hope and pride that her mate is doing
this for her... for them.

"Over my dead body."

"After I dispatch with this challenge B'Etor we are going."

Then gets the bat'leth in the belly from the elder brother...
Duras. In the background, her father calls his father. "It is
done."

"How did he die?"

"He died well."

"Then matters between us are done?"

"Indeed. Shall we continue with those negotiations?"

"Yes, I see no reason not to. Are you going to pick up the
empty shell?"

"His 'mate can deal with it. Until the counsel chambers then
Duras."

Her mother comments, "Well daughter, it seems you have a duty.
To dispose of his body."

"Bury him," says Lursa had never before bothered with B'Etor.
"I will tend to that matter."

She cradled him as he dies but he is happy to have him die
honourably... he is at peace and they share their poem.

"My sacrifice." He whispers, "I just want to say hello again."

She roars at his death. Her roar carries his warrior sprit to
Sto-Vo-Kor... above the house outward form the clouds... the
thunder crashed and the rains began. He dies and life switches
to the grave. It is raining there too.

"I just want to say hello again." She notices the marks on her
palms from their last night. Her fingernails dig into her palm
as she keeps her tears in.

Then she is over his grave remembering what they shared. Her
hands trembled her body quivered. 'When you are with me, I'm
free. I am careless I believe. Above all others well fly that
brings tears to my eyes... I can't even cry for you my dearest
heart...' Her rage her despairs are so great she can't even
think.

Then she gets mad... dons the warrior garb and for the first
time in her life, she picks up a bat'leth. The same bat'leth
that had slain her lover... her brother's weapon and no one
stopped her.

Lursa aligned herself with her sister.

'Above all the others we'll fly this brings tears to my eyes my
sacrifice.' She beckons to Lursa, "Well since he does not want
us let's get out of here." Her heart hardens and her rage is
turned outward. She is going to prove in this world and show her
father and everyone... that she is not worthless.

"Agreed sister... let us seek our own fortune."

"Do not interfere Duras it is her right to claim the weapon.
You will have to learn how to use that my sister."

"You will instruct me?"

"Of course... we are partners."

This ends with two angry determined daughters leaving. They
went to say their farewells but the brothers and father turned
their back on them, their mother offers them a purse and her
name.

B'Etor notices the nick taken out of the stone from her weapon,
she reaches out to caress the scarred stone. She will put many
more there in the futures she promises him... and then she
finally sheds a tear for his loss.

That is the name of the bat'leth too; the bat'leth has been
cleansed of another's blood but never his. Only one side has his
blood, she uses the other blades to slay others. So his alone
has a place of honour on the fore blade in this four bladed
weapon.

The scenes dim with B'Etor leaning her foot against his grave.
"I just want to say hello again. My sacrifice..."

The meld ended... and B'Etor saw her life in a way she had not
before... her hand lifted to strike Taurik for his 'intrusion';
after all she had the right to discipline him. But sense grabbed
a hold of her and she lowered her hand.

Taurik lowered his eyes, "I beg for forgiveness."

There was a silence that followed, B'Etor was not sure if she
should grant it or hold it over him for a time. She decided to
do neither, "Do it again, and you die Vulcan."

~~~~~~~

It was months later and B'Etor's drug addiction had ended and
not without a great deal of anguish. Taurik had been there to
help her with her withdrawal and with Lursa's help had begun to
discover her place. The first sign of their improved position
was an invitation to the opera and to a gathering afterwards.
This was usually reserved for the elite of the society, a place
where one could find allies and possibly a mate.

B'Etor stood off to the side, a goblet of bloodwine in her
hand. She was slightly out of breath, she had been laughing and
dancing for most of the past hour. She sipped on the wine; even
the wine had been tasting a little better than she remembered.

Taurik stood behind and off to the side, a mug of bloodwine in
his hand. He did not mind the taste, and found the heady
sensation to be to his liking. He had reached a higher stature
than he had planned on. He had hoped to improve B'Etor's
position and there-by improving his own. He had expected to
enjoy the benefits of added wealth and power, but not this high.
He had also planned to eventually move himself to a place of
trust... but he had not expected to become her bedslave,
confident and chief advisor.

B'Etor had been talking and then heard the noise of someone
entering the party. The room fell quiet it was the Regent
himself. He growled that the celebrations were to continue, and
everyone moved back slowly and with a slight uneasiness to what
they had been doing. B'Etor had not noticed that Taurik had
moved closer to her, he offered to fill her goblet again. She
let him as she watched the Regent.

The Regent moved with sureness, he would hold out his hand and
a mug would be placed there. His entourage moved with him
through the room maintaining a discreet distance from him. The
Regent looked her way, she had expected her heart to be caught
in her throat and her heart to be pounding... but none of it
happened. She bowed her head, he offered her recognition with
the slight lift of his mug then he turned away to speak with
another warrior.

She was disappointed... in the reaction she felt, in the
recognition that he offered and mostly in the Regent himself. He
was very... unappealing now that she held position and wealth
almost equal to his own.

She turned when she felt a light touch on her arm. She met
Taurik's eyes, and in that instant decided that this was enough
for her... maybe not for et ernity, but for now. She reached to
pull him closer, then kissed the warm mouth. She whispered close
to his ear, "I wish to leave."

Taurik shot a glance at the Regent then met B'Etor's eyes.
Something had changed in her in the few moments since the Regent
had arrived and he was anxious to find out what it was. He
lowered his eyes, "As you desire, joH."

~~~~~~~~

END

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