Chapter Text
The officers are talking again.
Of course, the officers are always talking about something. You aren't surprised. But the current rumor mill could prove to be... problematic.
Being the empath you are, you can tell pretty easily what your crew is thinking if you want to. Usually you don’t bother prodding beyond the impressions and flashes you get from them automatically. They learned to hide their thoughts from you pretty well.
And with the Empress on board, they're trying even harder than usual.
No, you don’t blame them for talking. 'The Captain is sleeping with the Empress' is a pretty juicy rumor, after all. But it could mean a lot of embarrassment for you.
You are sitting in Command, staring at the viewscreen in front of you. Too preocuppied to actually pay attention to what it's showing you - your location, current velocity, Helm data. All the data the ship collected, essentially.
Someone clears their throat right next to you, grabbing your attention. It's your new Head Navigator, a scrawny, very green behind the horns tealblood. She holds out a datapad in front of her and swallows anxiously.
"Captain Serket," she greets.
"Officer Tarrag," you responds politely.
"We've, uh. We've picked up some strange readings."
"What kind of strange readings?" Your worry over rumors is momentarily replaced by a potentially more serious problem.
"It's nothing too out of the ordinary, ma'am, but... when we entered the system just now the scanners detected something out there, but now it's gone." She taps something on her datapad and hands it to you. You look at the readout and furrow your brow. Whatever it was, it was gone too quickly for the scanners to identify it.
"It could be anything," Tarrag continues. "A scavenger we scared away, a big meteorite, even a glitch in the system. But you said to report any anomalies directly to you."
You nod. Though the fact that the Mindfang is transporting the Empress is a closely guarded secret (officially she is on her command ship, overseeing the establishment of her newest colony), there is always the potential that someone had leaked the information.
Almost everyone on the ship below teal had been replaced to minimize the risk of mind reading, but someone could still have betrayed you willingly. Or, less likely, a psychic as powerful as you could have been involved. You hand the datapad back to the officer.
"Maintain course, but keep scanning the system. If something shows up again notify me immediately," you order, and the navigator runs off.
You lean back in your chair and look at your viewscreen again, just in time for the chat client to light up.
-- coralConqueror [CC] began trolling articulateGraffias [AG] --
CC: im booored
CC: come back here
AG: I can't right now. Something might 8e going on.
CC: pshhh i wish
CC: maybe then i wouldnt be dyin over here
CC: cmon serket
AG: It could be dangerous!
CC: you know youre the captain right
CC: you dont actually have to be on the bridge all the glubbing time you can let other people do stuff
AG: A ship might have jumped away right after we arrived to this system. If it shows up again they'd have to report it to me anyway, and it'll 8e much faster if I'm in command.
CC: aight
CC: then its an order
AG: What? You can't 8e serious.
CC: try me gurl
CC: youll sea
AG: Meenah I know we have to keep up appearances in front of the others, 8ut I cannot 8elieve you'd order me around like this!
CC: NOT)(INGS GONNA HAPP-EN
CC: and dont try to guilt trip me you know that shit aint gonna work
CC: just get over here for like five minutes
CC: please
CC: sea im bein nice
AG: ........
CC: if somefin interesting happens while you aint there ill eat my hat
CC: or your hat
CC: wait why do you get a cool hat and i only get this shitty-ass tiara i outrank all yall
AG: Alright! If it means you won't turn the imperial crown into a sun hat, I'll get over there right now.
CC: Y-ES 38D
CC: and i was thinkin more like a stockman actually
-- articulateGraffias [AG] ceased trolling coralConqueror [CC] --
You get up from your chair. "I'm going to be in my quarters," you announce. "If anything happens tell me over the comms, I'll be back right away."
Those who can saulte, and you head to your room.
**
Just over eight sweep before you were still on Beforus, in Meenah's wing of the Royal Palace. Although officially it was known as the Heiress' wing.
You'd just joined Her Imperous Compassion's Navy after finishing officer training. The Assimilator, the ship you'd been assigned to, was due to leave the next evening.
Now you are a Captain, and Her Imperious Compassion is your sworn enemy.
The rebellion surprised exactly no one, and spread very quickly. While most of trollkind likes to see it as a radical shift of the status quo (for better or for worse, depending on which side you ask), you know you are just exchanging one type of tyranny for another.
One likes to disguise itself as benevolent, assimilating cultures rather than destroying them. The other is more direct, honest and in your opinion, much more effective. There is definitely the right time to be subtle, but conquest and governance aren't it. Plus, you never really liked the old Empress anyway.
You make your way down the Mindfang's gray hallways and step into the Captain's quarters. Officially the ship's highest officer is supposed to cede their room to the Empress while she's on board, but Meenah isn't one to bother with protocol. Unless it suits her, you think glumly.
Meenah's room in the palace had been enormous, but also immensiley cluttered, largely with treasure. In contrast, your room is (understandably) much smaller and quite spartan, aside from a wooden writing desk you'd brougth on board and several bookcases. Meenah, who is sitting on your bed, definitely doesn’t fit in.
She perks up when she sees you.
"Yo Aranea come over here," she becons you over, and you sit down next to her on the bed.
"What is it?"
"Check this shit out."
She points to the series of scars on her stomach. A gift from an old mutual friend of yours.
"I just noticed they look kinda like a net? Or a web if you want, whichever."
"No they don't." No matter how much you scowl at them, you can't see it. "Did you seriously make me come all the way here just to show me this?"
"Nah, mostly I just wanna cuddle," she grins. "Scoot over, Nerdfang."
You swing your legs up onto the bed and lean against the headboard, and Meenah places her head on your lap.
"You're going to crush my legs," you say, but your fingers are already buried in her hair, massaging her scalp. Meenah hums.
"I miss your braids," you tell her, tugging on her hair lightly.
"So braid it," she says. "I ain't got time to do it no more. Running a revolution is seriously time consuming biz."
You pull her into a better position and get to work happily. Your hands move almost automatically, so used to the motions.
It's familiar and comfortable, and soon you're both settled into your usual back and forth, flirty and teasing comments interspersed in normal conversation. You tug on Meenah's hair every time she says something too cheeky, and she pretends to be offended. Within a few minutes, you manage to completely forget about the possible emergency.
Once you're done, Meenah stretches out and yawns.
"So, what do we do now?" you ask. She turns towards you with a big grin. "I've got something in mind."
She crawls all the way up your body and brings your lips together. You wrap your arms around her.
Kissing her is familiar too. You'd both had plenty of relationships, but all of them were short-lived and many of them disastrous, as Meenah’s scars proved. It took you a while, but eventually you realized how well the two of you worked together. Now you can hardly imagine sharing your flushed quadrant with anyone else.
Meenah's difficult. She's rude and inconsiderate and impulsive, she often resorts to violence and has almost no patience. You, on the other hand, are patient to a fault, prefer talking and trickery to violence, and generally have a starkly different world view from her. Somehow though, you'd always gotten along, despite all your bickering. And it was the same way in your relationship.
You're hers, and she's yours. Somehow, despite all your incompatibilities the two of you just work.
Meenah breaks the kiss and sits up. "C'mon Serket," she purrs and tugs at your collar.
You take a second to take her in. She's only wearing her underwear and one of your uniform jackets, along with all her jewelry. You knew, of course - it's how you left her. But now you really look at her. You lick your lips.
True to form her impatience gets the better of her, and she starts unbuttoning your uniform herself. When it's half open she leans down and runs her tongue over your collarbone. She picks a spot and starts sucking, occasionally pausing to nip at it with her teeth.
She pulls away and snickers. You look down at the deep-blue spot and scowl. At least she had the courtesy of not leaving a hickey somewhere everyone would see it (again), you suppose. That really wouldn't help the rumors.
Seemingly done marking you, Meenah finishes unbuttoning your uniform and lets it fall open. She grabs two handfuls of your breasts over your lacey bra.
"Daaaamn, Serket," she drawls, because she knows her fixture on them annoys you. You decide to use it to your advantage. You shrug out of the jacket and unclip your bra, throwing it aside. Now that Meenah's attention is fully occupied, you flip her over with ease.
"Hey!" she protests, but you silence her by slipping your tongue in her mouth. Her hands find your breasts again and tweak your nipples.
She almost manages to flip you over again after that, but you manage to stay on top by pinning her arms to the headboard.
"Nuh-huh," you say. "Play nice. Hold on to the bar. Let it go, and I leave you here to take care of this," you press your finger against the damp spot in her panties, "all by yourself."
Meenah glares but does as she's told, grabbing the headboard with both hands. You press your lips against hers again as a reward, then kiss a path down her body. Between her breasts, across her toned belly (twice at her belly-button, once on each side), and a final one just above her dark curls.
Then you hook your fingers under the waistband of her panties and take your time pulling them down. The way the damp fabric in the centre sticks to her core even as the rest of her is revealed brings the wet heat in the pit of your belly into sharp relief. You squeeze your thighs together.
Once her panties finally fall away you press a kiss to tip of her bulge. You could tease her, but you're horny, and she's actually obeying your orders for once. You decide to give her what she wants.
You spread her legs and bring your mouth to her nook. You lick your lips in anticipation, when -
"Captain, we need you in Command!" Shit. The intercom. Right. You sigh and get off the bed.
"Hey! Get back here!" Meenah shouts, completely affronted. You look down at her.
Her face and chest are flushed, and she's breathing heavily. She still has her bra on but her panties are stretched between her knees and her nook looks oh-so inviting. She's even still holding onto the headboard.
You get an idea.
You open the nightstand drawer and take out Meenah's awful, fuschia fuzzy handcuffs. Her eyes widen.
"Aranea, no, you can't be searious -" You grin.
Before she gets the chance to move, you run the handcuffs around one of the bars and slap them on both her hands.
"Oh come on!" she says, tugging on them, but to no avail. You pick up your bra from where it landed and put it back on, then grab your jacket.
"Aranea, I swear to cod if you leave me here I'll -"
"Don't worry," you say in your most reassuring voice. "I should be back soon. Like you said, it's probably nothing. And if it isn't, well," you redo the final button and adjust the uniform, then give her a wink.
"It's your own fault."
You hear her swearing after you all the way to the bridge.