"I'm on it, Lord Straik," Aithar promises, and taps his ear, activating the communicator hugging his ear. "We'll get you results."
"See that you do," I say, and head back out. I should probably find a tunic that hasn't fallen to pieces, if we'll be meeting my uncle soon. I touch my chest, rubbing at my plating. Did some sort of parasite get on the ship at the last docking? Something that eats threads? Because my expensive, hand-made tunics don't seem to be weathering this particular trip very well. I need to find something appropriate to wear to visit Lord va'Rin, first of the Name.
And I need to find something for the female to wear that doesn't belong to Dopekh…because I still don't like it.
25
RUTH
I must be fucked in the head, because I'm starting to feel bad for Straik. He's an absolute mess, with his hair everywhere and his clothes falling off of him. Maybe it's that I can't resist twisting the knife in the wound, or it's pity. Maybe I can't resist a train wreck. Whatever it is, I ask Dopekh to lead me back to Straik's quarters so I can talk to him. He's not in his rooms, though—he's in his office. Probably sulking.
The a'ani waits outside while I knock on the door to Straik's office. He indicates I should use the panel instead, so I wave my hand over it and the computer immediately announces my presence. For a moment I think Straik's going to ignore that I'm out here, but the door opens and I step inside. Straik, pacing across the room, looks surprised to see me.
Dopekh immediately follows behind me, and Straik's expression turns a little less pleasant. Uh oh. This doesn't work well with my whole “charm everyone into dancing to my tune” plan. I turn to Dopekh and give him a little smile. "I'll be all right. I want to talk to Straik privately, if that's okay?"
The a'ani glances between us. "Oh. Of course. I'll wait outside."
I keep smiling as he heads back for the door and shuts it, leaving me alone in Straik's office. I've seen it several times from above, but this is my first time to be in it physically, instead of in an air vent. It's a large, lovely room with a high ceiling, a heavy desk, and even a few plants artfully arranged here and there. It looks very well put together and doesn't remind me of its owner at all. I watch as Straik pauses in his pacing to study me.
"What do you want?" he snaps.
A half-baked memory flits through my mind. Of a stray dog who'd bite at every hand that came close to him, but who desperately wanted love and petting. I remember feeding him French fries from the local burger joint for days on end, until he trusted me and then…and then…
And then my memory goes blank. It's just another hole, and it makes me wonder if that was even my memory at all, or if it's something from a TV show that my scrambled mind has associated with my past. I shake it off, putting a smile on my face. "I wanted to make sure it was okay that I walked around with the crew. Or did you intend to keep me chained to your bed forever?"
I make my tone teasing, arching a brow at him. Truth is, I want to be able to walk around free instead of trapped in his bed like some sort of plaything, but I have to make sure it seems like it's his idea or else it could backfire badly.
Straik grunts, frowning at nothing in particular. "Just don't stab anyone."
"I won't."
"No, I suppose you save that for me." He sounds sour.
"It's because you're special," I tease again. "You're the only one I want to stab."
He huffs, but it sounds far less cranky and edging towards amusement. "I'm not sure if that's all that special. It sounds like a lot of people want to stab me right now."
Aw, self-pity. Spoiled rich boy is pouting that his friends are mad at him for being a shitty person. I want to point this out, but it doesn't fit with my plan, so I just keep smiling. "Thank you for letting me spend so much time with Dopekh. It means a lot to me. I just wanted you to know that. It's very…kind…of you."
Poor Dopekh might have a nervous breakdown but this new freedom(ish) change gives me a lot more leeway. I had a chance to meet and talk with (and charm) several crew members. I just need to keep winning them over, to make them see me as a sweet, lost thing that desperately needs their help. Then, I can work them.
My praise to Straik just seems to offend him, though. "Kind. Yes." He sounds bitter. "Exactly what every corsair wishes his enemies to perceive him as. Kind."