Waiting in Small Spaces (Subtext 14-B)
Posted on Sat Nov 15th, 2025 @ 2:13pm by Lieutenant Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil & Commander Irene Seya
Edited on on Tue Nov 18th, 2025 @ 3:09am
992 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
How to See in the Dark
Location: The Apartment, Lorna City, Jerache District
Timeline: Timeline: MD 02, 1745
Zharia sat on the edge of her narrow bed, the quilt beneath her a faded patchwork of blue and yellow squares, edges unraveling from too many washings. The walls of the room were painted the colour of wet paper, and a single lamp in the corner gave off a tired light. Down the hall, voices continued to murmur--masculine and ordinary.
She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to count the seconds between their sentences, but they were too uneven. Sometimes a small laugh cut through. Sometimes a chair scraped against tile. Once, there was the sound of something metallic--a buckle or perhaps a credit wafer.
She thought about Brionna. About the look in her eyes when Kaurel's hand touched her shoulder. It was a look that seemed far too old and mature for a girl of her age, and too young for what it all meant.
In the kitchen Kaurel was rinsing out bowls. The water from the faucet ran and ran. It was easier to keep it running than to listen to the sounds from the next room. Her face was still, her motions ordered. She scrubbed the same spoon three times, then set it aside. Her fingers trembled just slightly as she wiped her hands on her apron.
From the dining room came the familiar hiss of the scanner verifying the funds had been transferred, then the soft clink of the black wafer being pocketed. She'd heard those sounds too often over the years.
"A pleasure doing business," came the voice of the man in the silver-fringed shirt. He sounded far too pleased with himself, thought Kaurel.
Kaurel's tongue felt thick in her mouth. She turned the faucet off and the silence that followed was worse.
In her room, Zharia leaned forward, pressing her forehead to her knees. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She'd trained herself out of that months ago. Crying was sound, and sound drew unwanted attention. Instead, she breathed through her nose and tried to remember the faces of the others--the girls from before. She whispered their names as though they were little prayers.
The hallway light flickered once and then dimmed.
She heard the door to the unit close and footsteps receding. Then came Kaurel's voice:
"Zharia. Come and help tidy the table."
Zharia rose, her legs unsteady. She smoothed the front of her dress and stepped into the hallway, where the smell of the visitor in the silver fringe lingered--cheap aftershave and sweat. She made her way to the dining room where the table was now empty, the chairs pushed in neatly. Only the absence of Brionna and the black wafer marking what had just occurred.
Kaurel's eyes met hers for a moment--long enough for Zharia to see the exhaustion behind them.
"Don't look," Kaurel said softly. "Just clean."
So Zharia did exactly that: she picked up the plates and stacked them in the cupboard quietly, one oin top of the other. Each tiny clatter of them falling into place felt like a sin.
Once Kaurel was satisfied that Zharia was keeping herself busy she went to her own room where she had left Brionna. Kaurel's room, nestled at the top of the staircase, a strategic spot so that she could see and hear the girls coming and going, wasn't any larger than the ones shared by the girls who came and went, but it was her own. Lucen made sure she had nice things, and time to herself to enjoy them. It had been a long time since she'd worked against her will, though if someone ever took the time to dig deep into her thoughts, anyone's thoughts in this business really, it wouldn't take long to learn that the concept of free will was entirely subjective.
She found Brionna pressed against her single window, nose and palms against the glass looking out. If she was thinking about trying to escape, it was irrelevant, as it was pointless. The windows didn't open far enough for a body to fit through, and any attempt to pass messages out that hadn't been screened would trigger an alarm.
"Would you like me to help you pack some things?" Kaurel asked. Her voice was soft, gentle. Though kindness in this world was also subjective. It was always best to not become too attached to anyone. It was something Kaurel told every girl. They never listened.
Brionna turned to face the older woman, tears already stained her face, her eyes were swollen and red.
"What is he going to do to me?" She asked. Her voice was raw and throaty. Accusatory. Angry.
"This could be a good thing," Kaurel replied firmly. She always tried to convince herself that it would end well when this happened, and as she worked through that process pass some hope on to the girls. Though the hope was thin, and deep down Kaurel knew their chances were always slim.
"If he had taken you with your friend, your fate would be sealed. If you had been taken when you were older, just the same," She continued. "But if you butter him up like I've shown you. Play nice, show him you are a good girl, he will treat you well."
Brionna could feel the rage boiling up inside her, the anger overtaking her fear.
"Well?" Brionna repeated her voice raising. "WELL?!" She stated again, louder this time.
"What is your definition of well, Kaurel?" Brionna spat, her voice now turning red in her fury.
"Lower your voice," Kaurel whispered sharply. "Or you don't stand a chance."
~tbc~
A mission post by:
Commander Irene Seya
Security Liaison
Starfleet Headquarters
&
Lieutenant J.G. Jean-Baptiste Dorsainvil
Assistant Chief Security Officer
USS Astrea
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