Lost

Meat, she hated meat. It seemed, though, that these people absolutely loved it. Mixie massaged her temples as she tried to stifle herself out and not get sick all over the mess hall they had. For two weeks that had been her diet, a variety of meats. Some of them did taste good, she’d admit that much, but the texture, how it sat in her stomach, the thought that she was eating something that had once grazed (if there was any such land on the whole damn planet) or had stalked it’s prey or even hung from some of the trees scattered around. The whole thought sickened her, figuratively and literally. Not to mention she didn’t know if it was just her human physiology. For all she knew this whole planet was disease ridden and these people had developed an immunity.

Sighing Mixie got up from the bench she had been sitting on and took a minute to steady herself from a sudden wave of dizziness. She must be coming down with something, that was all there was to it. Over the past two weeks these people, these men had put their trust in Dukat’s seemingly unparalleled knowledge in not only technology, but also strategy in fighting the ‘light zone’. They had had the misfortune of crashing in the dark zone, a land without official law were the unwanted and unneeded of society were sent. Even the criminals were sent there. From what she understood, which was a lot since she was a ‘bitch’ and therefore did not have the brain power necessary to understand what they were talking about, adventurers from the light zone would venture into the dark zone for a thrill. This was deep in the heart of the dark zone, which covered a third of the planet. The closer they got to the light zone, the less organized the crime and gangs. Normally outsiders didn’t get this far in.

The only benefit with everything that was happening was that since they trusted Dukat, the golden boy, they allowed her the freedom to move about the network of tunnels and rooms they had carved into one of the many stone mountains. Mixie made her way down the one that led to the room that belonged to herself and Dukat. Once there she realized with a start that Dukat had already returned from a strategy session they were having on how to take over a smaller gang nearby.

“Where were you?” He asked in a pleasant enough tone, but she knew it wasn’t an innocent question. Dukat didn’t ask innocent questions. Mixie rubbed her neck and walked to where she had her suitcase and some books on datapadd stacked on the floor.

“I was in the mess hall.” She replied and picked up her book. When she straightened up again and turned around, she stopped dead in her tracks. For a week and a half she had been scrounging up every bit of spare, strong material for a single purpose. She knew, roughly, the size of the emergency beacon that was on the shuttle and although she wasn’t entirely certain about the weight, she was determined that she’d be able to carry it on her back. So, with that in mind, she began to construct a harness to do that. The harness, composed of some of her clothing, bits of rope used for various reasons, and anything else she could find, was about a third of the way done. She wanted it to be strong, strong enough not to break and to hopefully relieve some of the pressure on her shoulders so that she wouldn’t fall out and be unable to carry it anymore.

This hard work, however, was currently in Dukat’s large hands and was under his unnecessary gaze. He knew what it was, there was no way to dispute that, and the curious gaze he fixed on it was purely for show. He turned it over in his hands, looking idly at the different items she had used to form it. Mixie watched this for a few moments before sighing and rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on. You know as well as I do what it is so stop with the show and get on with whatever you’re going to do about it.” Mixie knew that later she’d just sit down and sob over the failed attempt, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing that he drove her to that.

“I must admit, this disturbs me.” Dukat stood up and approached her slowly. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but this is…this is better than that cave.” Dukat stopped in front of her and took one of her hands. He put the harness she was making into her hand and enclosed her hand in both of his.

“I’ve already told you that you cannot contact them so why do you insist on trying to do it anyway? And really, what is so bad about here?” He asked and slowly moved behind her. He took her book from her and tossed it to the table before wrapping one arm around her, his hand spread over her lower stomach as he hugged her close.

“You were on that shuttle because you were running from something, just as I was being forced to something.” He murmured to her ear. “What would you gain by going back, a nice comfortable life on earth with people who live by protocol and rules all the time?” Mixie allowed him to kiss under her ear by moving her head slightly. He enjoyed her body quite a bit, she knew that by now and although she certainly wouldn’t complain immediately afterwards or while he indulged himself with her, she didn’t like to the rest of the time.

“That’s not you Mixie, I know it isn’t you and so do you if you think about it. If by some chance you managed to get hold of your federation, and if they came and took both of us away, you would spend the rest of your life living by those same tired rules.” Mixie felt him kiss down her neck, his fingers gently massaging her stomach. “You’ll spend every single day living by those rules dictating what you can and cannot do. Mixie, you won’t be happy. And, every single night you’ll lay beside some ordinary terran and your life will be come as plain as and one of those rock faces out there.”

She hated to admit it and she wouldn’t out loud, but he was right. She would loose her mind from boredom with such an ordinary life. Her whole adult life had appeared to be by the rules but was far from it. She was a smuggler, a damn good smuggler, and she wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. She wouldn’t be able to do anything anymore.

Giving in to Dukat, she tilted her head enough so that he could kiss whatever part of her neck that he wanted to while she, at the same time, ran her hands over his.


Dukat knew he won the battle, but couldn’t help but drive it home. With Mixie and the battle, he had to triumph, not simply accept her surrender. It wasn’t enough and it wouldn’t be until the end of their little war when she would willingly, happily, and unconditionally submit to him. “And, worse yet, you’ll think back to the moment when you finally succeeded in getting the signal out to your federation and you will wonder, where would I be, and what would I be doing, if I had just submitted.” Dukat smiled against her ear where he had just whispered ever so softly. She would see the truth in what he said, yet she would never do it, and they both knew it.

Turning her around where she stood, Dukat tilted her face up to him and kissed her lips tenderly. He repeated the soft application over and over again while slowly maneuvering her back to the chair provided. Being careful to make sure she didn’t trip, he sat her down in it and took her hands, one of which had let go of the harness and left it lay on the floor where they had just been standing. Studying each of her delicate hands, he placed them on the arm rests of the chair before standing to his full height. He slowly circled around her, letting his fingers trail over her arm then her shoulders the whole time before stopping behind her. Being ever so careful not to pull her hair, he slowly undid the shawl she had to wear around her head and let it droop downward, even with her elbows. “Mixie,” He bent down and said her name again, making sure to have her attention.

“I am most apologetic that I must put you in this position, but you leave me no choice.” He said sympathetically before tightening the shawl around her midsection and tying it in the back, tying her rather affectively to and through the intricate parts of the chair.