She refused to stay in Medical any longer, and they didn’t seem inclined to hold her there. “There’s a good chance seeing your surroundings might jog your memory,” the medic said. “I’m coming with you, though. I’m keeping you under close observation until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
An ancillary entered with a uniform and helped her put it on. Surely it was an ancillary. But the other one hadn’t been.
The ancillary lead her to what she assumed was a decade room and sat her down at the table, and another one brought tea and skel for her and for the medic, who sat down across from her. Seivarden stared into her bowl, and to her horror, found herself blinking back tears.
“Hello,” someone said, and she turned and saw the officer who had just sat down next to her.
She grunted, conscious of the medic’s presence but too angry to manage a polite hello back.
“I heard about what happened,” the officer said. Her accent was just barely understandable, if Seivarden focused. “I’m so sorry, S-” A strange pause. “Sir.”
Seivarden looked at her insignia. Amaat Lieutenant. So at least she was only- apparently- subordinate to the fleet captain, on this ship.
She shook her head, trying to clear her eyes of tears. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she complained to the universe in general. “Aatr’s tits, this is ridiculous!”
She pushed aside the bowl of skel, and let her head sink down onto her crossed arms.
She heard the medic say, as though from a long way away, “Lieutenant Seivarden is having a difficult time right now.” She choked down a scream.
The other officer: “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be.”
“No,” Seivarden said. “You can’t.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Seivarden lifted her head up a little to stare at the other officer. Etrepa lieutenant, she could see from the insignia. At least the general shapes of the insignias hadn’t changed since her day.
Since her day! Was she really buying all of this? No, of course she wasn’t! She was just waiting and trying to figure out the situation. She’d been kidnapped and fed this elaborate lie, though she couldn’t imagine the reasons, but who knew why uncivilized mad people did anything? Sword of Nathtas must be looking for her. Would come for her.
“You,” she said.
“Yes?” the Etrepa lieutenant asked. She’d been nothing but solicitous, but she was standing almost as stiffly as that human who’d pretended to be an ancillary. She was afraid of something. Afraid of Seivarden? There had to be a way to use that to her advantage.
“You know me?”
“Yes,” the Etrepa lieutenant said. Quieter, her breathing faster. “Yes, I… I know you.”
“Then tell me about myself.”
“Well,” she said. “Well. I don’t know. A lot can change in fifteen years. You never told me much about who you used to be. You’d have to ask Sir about that.”
“Sir?” Seivarden asked, perplexed and annoyed. “Who’s- you mean the Fleet Captain?”
“Lieutenant Ekalu,” the medic said, sharply- warningly, perhaps? That meant she was on the edge of finding something here.
“Why would the Fleet Captain know me from fifteen years ago? Was she the one who woke me up?”
Lieutenant- Ekalu, the name was Ekalu- stared over Seivarden’s shoulder at the medic, obviously dismayed despite her oddly constrained body language. Seivarden didn’t think, didn’t give the ship time to forsee her actions, just leapt up from the chair and slammed the Etrepa Lieutenant against the off-white wall of the decade room. “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” she hissed. Lieutenant Ekalu struggled to get free. Seivarden put one arm against her throat and pushed her back into the wall, and with the other arm she grabbed Ekalu’s wrist and began to bend it back, causing Ekalu to cry out in pain. “Talk,” Seivarden demanded. She didn’t have much time, expecting any second for ancillaries to grab her, pull her back and slam her to the ground.
Instead, a single word came through her auditory implant. “Seivarden.”
She watched her arms drop slowly to her sides. Watched Ekalu, apparently frozen now, staring at her. She felt her knees give way, and the world rush up as she sank down onto the floor. Now she heard footsteps, steady, deliberate boots on the floor behind her. She felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder, an irrationally heavy weight.
“What is happening to me,” she tried to say, but her throat was too thick, and the words came out a garble. She was crying again. She swallowed, and spoke as clearly as she could. “What the fuck are you doing to me? You’re not real Radchaai, none of you. Barbarians pretending to be Radchaai, maybe. You don’t need to pretend, just tell me what you fucking want from me.”
“Please give us the room,” the fleet captain said to the medic and the officer and the ancillaries or whoever else might be around. Seivarden heard people leaving. Then there was just silence.
“Who are you?” she asked. She wanted to say, Who the fuck are you that you can just say my name and give me these feelings of weakness and despair that I don’t fucking understand?
Fill: Seivarden, amnesia, part 2
Date: 2017-05-27 07:06 pm (UTC)An ancillary entered with a uniform and helped her put it on. Surely it was an ancillary. But the other one hadn’t been.
The ancillary lead her to what she assumed was a decade room and sat her down at the table, and another one brought tea and skel for her and for the medic, who sat down across from her. Seivarden stared into her bowl, and to her horror, found herself blinking back tears.
“Hello,” someone said, and she turned and saw the officer who had just sat down next to her.
She grunted, conscious of the medic’s presence but too angry to manage a polite hello back.
“I heard about what happened,” the officer said. Her accent was just barely understandable, if Seivarden focused. “I’m so sorry, S-” A strange pause. “Sir.”
Seivarden looked at her insignia. Amaat Lieutenant. So at least she was only- apparently- subordinate to the fleet captain, on this ship.
She shook her head, trying to clear her eyes of tears. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she complained to the universe in general. “Aatr’s tits, this is ridiculous!”
She pushed aside the bowl of skel, and let her head sink down onto her crossed arms.
She heard the medic say, as though from a long way away, “Lieutenant Seivarden is having a difficult time right now.” She choked down a scream.
The other officer: “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be.”
“No,” Seivarden said. “You can’t.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Seivarden lifted her head up a little to stare at the other officer. Etrepa lieutenant, she could see from the insignia. At least the general shapes of the insignias hadn’t changed since her day.
Since her day! Was she really buying all of this? No, of course she wasn’t! She was just waiting and trying to figure out the situation. She’d been kidnapped and fed this elaborate lie, though she couldn’t imagine the reasons, but who knew why uncivilized mad people did anything? Sword of Nathtas must be looking for her. Would come for her.
“You,” she said.
“Yes?” the Etrepa lieutenant asked. She’d been nothing but solicitous, but she was standing almost as stiffly as that human who’d pretended to be an ancillary. She was afraid of something. Afraid of Seivarden? There had to be a way to use that to her advantage.
“You know me?”
“Yes,” the Etrepa lieutenant said. Quieter, her breathing faster. “Yes, I… I know you.”
“Then tell me about myself.”
“Well,” she said. “Well. I don’t know. A lot can change in fifteen years. You never told me much about who you used to be. You’d have to ask Sir about that.”
“Sir?” Seivarden asked, perplexed and annoyed. “Who’s- you mean the Fleet Captain?”
“Lieutenant Ekalu,” the medic said, sharply- warningly, perhaps? That meant she was on the edge of finding something here.
“Why would the Fleet Captain know me from fifteen years ago? Was she the one who woke me up?”
Lieutenant- Ekalu, the name was Ekalu- stared over Seivarden’s shoulder at the medic, obviously dismayed despite her oddly constrained body language. Seivarden didn’t think, didn’t give the ship time to forsee her actions, just leapt up from the chair and slammed the Etrepa Lieutenant against the off-white wall of the decade room. “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” she hissed. Lieutenant Ekalu struggled to get free. Seivarden put one arm against her throat and pushed her back into the wall, and with the other arm she grabbed Ekalu’s wrist and began to bend it back, causing Ekalu to cry out in pain. “Talk,” Seivarden demanded. She didn’t have much time, expecting any second for ancillaries to grab her, pull her back and slam her to the ground.
Instead, a single word came through her auditory implant. “Seivarden.”
She watched her arms drop slowly to her sides. Watched Ekalu, apparently frozen now, staring at her. She felt her knees give way, and the world rush up as she sank down onto the floor. Now she heard footsteps, steady, deliberate boots on the floor behind her. She felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder, an irrationally heavy weight.
“What is happening to me,” she tried to say, but her throat was too thick, and the words came out a garble. She was crying again. She swallowed, and spoke as clearly as she could. “What the fuck are you doing to me? You’re not real Radchaai, none of you. Barbarians pretending to be Radchaai, maybe. You don’t need to pretend, just tell me what you fucking want from me.”
“Please give us the room,” the fleet captain said to the medic and the officer and the ancillaries or whoever else might be around. Seivarden heard people leaving. Then there was just silence.
“Who are you?” she asked. She wanted to say, Who the fuck are you that you can just say my name and give me these feelings of weakness and despair that I don’t fucking understand?
“I’m your friend,” the fleet captain said.