A Welcome Visit
Posted on Mon Feb 19th, 2024 @ 8:34am by Lottie & Immy
Mission:
S1 Episode 7: Prime Factors
Location: Holodeck 2
Timeline: Date 2371-09-12 at 1345
5540 words - 11.1 OF Standard Post Measure
ON
Lottie had never been to the holodecks on the Vengeance on her own before. She had joined Mistress Petrova a few times for various reasons, but this would certainly be a new experience. After performing all of her tasks in her usual flawless, expedient way for the last week, Lottie had finally worked up the courage to ask for permission to see Immy. Even she herself wasn’t sure it was a particularly good idea, but when facing the possibility of her last memories of her only real friend in the world dying in such a horrible way right in front of her eyes… Lottie thought it best to try and give this a chance. It wouldn’t be the same, she knew that, but Immy was alive in some way and that mattered deeply to her.
She was escorted by a security officer that had been plucked out of his patrol; it wasn’t because Yana worrying that Lottie would make trouble, but tensions had been high over the last week and young Imperial military types could be so very pushy and stupid. They stopped outside of the doors and Lottie touched the console.
“Ah, computer… activate Imogen Dwelling Alpha.”
The computer beeped its reply, worked for a moment, then signaled it was ready. With a deep breath, Lottie steeled herself as best she could and walked through the door.
Lottie entered a small stone open-sky courtyard in a quaint apartment building. Each unit had red doors as their only entrance with numbers and a label indicating the last name of the family in residence. The air was moderate, reflecting the time of year, and the sky was overcast. Sounds of a bustling city indicated they were in the middle of a busy place.
Looking around, the young slave took in everything around her with her beautiful blue eyes. The noise didn’t bother her given she spent most of her life in the city, in fact all it really did was trigger a pang of nostalgia for her old life as a simple house slave. She missed home. Deciding not to dwell on it, she moved toward the red doors, walking down the row until she finally stopped.
The red door in front of her, number 4, had chipping paint much like the others, but it also had a label which read “Tiger”
She’d always liked Immy’s last name, so when she saw the word she couldn’t help but reflexively smile. She didn’t have a surname of her own - not a normal one; she had been assigned a surname when she was sold to the military which had simply been the name of her mother. She reached down to try the door and was surprised to find it open. With building excitement, she opened it immediately.
As Lottie stepped through the door, she moved into a small livingroom area with cheap but cozy-looking furniture and a colorful floor lamp. Laying on the longer green couch in stretchy blue jeans and a gray mesh shirt was Immy with a book in her hand. She looked over the book when she heard the door open, her radiant face topped with a cap that matched her mesh gray shirt. When she saw who it was, her eyes went wide with surprise and delight, and she shot up off of the couch.
“Lottie! By the Gods, is it really you?” She exclaimed, rushing toward the slave girl and immediately wrapping her arms around her, hugging her right.
“Immy!” Lottie exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the redhead tightly. She buried her face into Immy’s shoulder and immediately began to cry. “Oh, Immy…”
The Immy of her former life probably would have been strong at a time like this, but the incident that had taken her body from her and made her a prisoner of the computer had taken their toll on her emotional stability. She had received visitors, but all of them had wanted something from her. Maybe Lottie was different.
Despite herself, tears started streaming down her cheeks and her sniffles began.
“I can’t believe it’s you.”
“I don’t… I don’t even know what to s-say.” Lottie managed to speak despite her own tears, the words muffled into Immy’s shoulder. Eventually she pulled back and wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I… I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Immy said with a smile. “It’s so good to see a friend. I was wondering how you were doing after…you know. But these stupid rules they placed on me make it impossible for me to contact anybody on my own unless I’m activated.”
Immy backed up and grabbed Lottie’s hands firmly. She looked into the other girl’s eyes, vibrant green meeting vibrant blue, a concerned frown on her pretty features.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.” She pulled one hand away to wipe a few more errand tears, brushed them against her uniform, and then took Immy’s hand again. “It’s been a lot. I… I guess I probably don’t have to tell you about what all has happened?”
“To be honest, I’ve been off so much, I don’t know very much.” Immy said. Then she smiled. “Why don’t you have a seat at the table and…and I can make you something special?”
Lottie hesitated a slave’s hesitation, unsure if she should accept, but her mistress had given her permission to visit her friend; she had to know that something might be given to her, right?
“O-okay.” She agreed with a bit of a nervous smile and nod. “So… is this your apartment on Terra?”
“I don’t have an apartment on Terra, Lottie. I am…was a slave.” Immy said, walking over to the elongated kitchen which was attached to the living area like a hallway. She opened cabinets and started taking things out. A cookie sheet, flour, eggs, butter, and even peanut butter. “This is the apartment my Ma and I lived in before I got sold.”
“Oh I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if you’d had one of your own… before that.” Lottie frowned a bit and moved into the kitchen with Immy, obviously expecting to help. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Lot.” Immy said with a smile, clearly glad to be with her friend; someone who treated her like a person. “I haven’t been very clear about all of that. I got in trouble when I was 16 and the judge sentenced me to repay..to pay for what I did with slavery. I was sold to a local cleaning business, but eventually they sold me to the Fleet to cut their budget. It probably had something to do with the fact I was the only girl not sleeping with the boss.”
Immy grabbed a mixing bowl and started measuring dry ingredients.
“I miss my Ma. We were best friends; partners in life; partners in crime.”
“She’s still alive?” Lottie questioned gently and then stepped closer, adding, “What can I do to help?”
“She…I don’t know.” Immy said, pausing with the whisk in her hand. She frowned deeply. “We lost touch after I was sold to the Fleet, obviously, for security reasons. She was sick for a while…I don’t know where she is now.”
“Well, Terran doctors are very skilled.” Lottie pointed out gently and placed her hand on Immy’s arm, giving a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure she has been taken care of.”
“You’re probably right.” Immy said, forcing a smile and starting to mix again. “It gets pretty lonely in my digital world, but I can control what happens there just like I can here when I’m activated. I spend a lot of time baking and reading. I can make holographic others..but it’s nice to talk to someone real. It’s nice to do something real.”
“Well I’m really happy to see you.” Lottie offered up with a genuine smile. “I won’t be able to stay for too long, but maybe Mistress Petrova will allow me to come and see you now and then when I please her instead of giving me cookies.”
“That would be nice.” Immy said with a smile, “but you know you can call me from anywhere. I can only appear if there are holo emitters, but I’m as good as the computer in any room on the ship. In fact, I did some research into my replacement in our quarters and I see you got Ren.”
“Oh. Yes, I did.” Lottie looked down and flushed slightly. “It’s a bit awkward… I don’t know why Mistress Petrova assigned him to the same room with me… but I shouldn’t question such things I know.”
“I would have put him in there with you. He’s very cute, like a puppy in a man’s body.” Immy said with a grin to Lottie. “He’s so sweet, and you’ve got the nicest room down there.”
“He’s been very nice it’s just been hard on him I think. I don’t think he really likes it too much. I also think he likes you.” She noted and smiled. “Would you like it if he came to visit you?”
“Me?” Immy said, shaking her head. “No, Lottie. I would think you would want him. He’s totally your type. Besides, I don’t like puppies. I’ve always been a sucker for the big dogs.”
“Want him? What do you mean?” Lottie blinked. “But he likes you. I’m sure he would like to at least come say hello.”
“No..no.” Immy said. “I don’t have a body, Lottie. Aren’t you interested in him? You know, even just for fun?”
“But he’s just saying - o-oh!” Lottie practically jumped as she figured out exactly what Immy was implying. “N-no, Immy. I… I really just meant come and say hello. I don’t think he’s like… that?”
“You don’t think he likes girls?” Immy asked, giving her friend a look like she’d grown a second nose. “You’re definitely wrong, Lottie. No one likes me for my winning personality.”
“No… I mean yes I think he likes girls I just don’t think he’s interested in the… you know.” She waved her hands slightly. “He thought you were nice.”
“Well, you’re nicer.” Immy said, starting to crack eggs and add her wet ingredients to the mix. “As far as everyone is concerned except for you, Mistress Petrova, and a handful of handsy security crew, I’m dead.”
“Well… you’re not dead.” Lottie frowned and picked up one of the eggs to crack into the bowl. “Obviously not… I know you may not have a body but… but you’re not dead. You’re here and you’re my friend.” Her eyes began to tear up again.
Immy smiled at Lottie again. It was good to hear those words. The crew would be debating her personhood for their entire lives, she’d bet, and the philosophers would never solve it. What was the soul, in the end? Who could say what it meant to be alive?
“You’re a good friend.” Immy said quietly.
“Do you want me to mix that for you?” The younger woman offered with a warm smile and gestured to the bowl. “I’ve gotten really quick at doing it.”
“If you want.” Immy said, giving the bowl and whisk to Lottie. “This is how we did it when I was growing up. No tech, just sore arms. But, if you’d like, I can just skip the middleman and have them be done. I don’t want to waste your only holodeck time making cookies.”
“It isn’t a waste of time. I’m spending time with you.” Lottie assured and took the bowl and whisk from Immy. “It’s a little strange though I mean they had mixers in like the early 1900s. Did your mom not like technology even if it was that old?”
“She liked to do things by hand. She had a religious thing about it.” Immy said with a fond grin. “It’s funny how her faith never seemed to matter when we were out making ends meet.”
“What do you mean?” Lottie probed gently as she began to expertly whisk the ingredients in the bowl together. Immy had told her some things about her life obviously, but not a lot. It seemed the current situation had made her much more talkative about her past.
“I don’t know how it is now, but life was hard in Dublin when I was coming up. Ma was always between work and a man, and we were quite poor. She was beautiful and young and I was beautiful and younger, and she taught me how to make money in other ways. That’s how I got in trouble.”
“You stole some things… right?” Lottie asked as she moved the mixture back over to Immy. The way she spoke wasn’t judgmental, she seemed to simply be making sure she was remembering correctly.
“I did more than steal. But yes, essentially.” Immy said, taking the bowl back from Lottie and picking up the first clump in her hands. She started to slowly roll it into a ball and placed it in the sheet. “But don’t worry, there’s no point in stealing now. I have everything I could ever ask for. Just none of it is real.”
“Well… it is real to you now, isn’t it? Like… in a way I mean?” She frowned, trying to make sense of her own thoughts in the matter. “This… is just reality in a different way.”
“Things are only valuable if they are fine or rare. Nothing is fine in we’re just a bunch of code, photons, and force fields. And nothing is rare at all. What’s the value of a diamond ring if you can make a thousand more?”
As Immy spoke a gorgeous ring appeared on Lottie’s hand, shimmering and brilliant in contrast with her drab slave uniform.
“None of it means anything.”
Lottie looked down at the ring for a long moment, it was very pretty and she had never seen anything like it on her own finger. It didn’t really matter to her that it was fake. She smiled, but then it faded as she processed what Immy had said.
“Why doesn’t it, though?”
Immy’s face was sad, not because the conversation was unwelcome, but because it brought to mind the reality of her situation. She closed her eyes as tears welled up in them and flooded the dams of her life.
“Because you can’t keep them. They’re only here for fun..for as long as you want them here. And when you’re done, you throw them away like garbage.”
“But you can keep them and so can I.” Lottie said, taking the diamond ring off and holding it in her fingers toward Immy. “I might not be able to take this out with me, but you gave it to me and I can keep it… and I can wear it when I come back and visit you. Just because it is only in one place doesn’t mean it is less valuable.”
Immy’s tears poured out hot down her cheeks, but she refused to burst out or lose her composure. It was all she had left. She said nothing, however. She wasn’t sure she could speak.
“Oh Immy…” Lottie gave a sympathetic coo and wrapped her arms around the redhead, hugging her tight and holding her close. “It’s okay… it’s okay to cry… I’m here. It’s alright…”
On cue, Immy began to shake uncontrollably. No sooner had her lips parted than she let out an awful, haunting wail. It started low and deep and then rose slowly in a warbling melody like a mother at her child’s wake. She collapsed onto Lottie, but still maintained her own weight for the most part, not trusting the younger girl to hold her up. As she continued to cry, she dropped the ball of cookie dough in her hand back into the bowl. Her sticky hands moved in front of her face and she blocked her increasingly blotchy visage out of shame.
Lottie didn’t say anything, instead she coaxed Immy’s head down to her shoulder so she could cry there instead of into her messy hands. She gently stroked the woman’s beautiful red hair with one hand, the other remaining firmly around her and holding her close.
They stayed in that position for the next few minutes as Immy cried, drenching her gray mesh shirt with tears along with Lottie’s uniform. Fortunately, they were only holographic, and wouldn’t last. Gradually, the wailing died down to sniffling. Then, when that was done, Immy sat up straight. Her hair was ragged with strands rebelling under her hat and her face was red and wet. She looked and Lottie and gave a sad smile.
“There’s one upside to all this..” she said, her voice thick from the tears she had shed. Then, she blinked out of existence, only to return a split second later perfectly restored. She offered a more genuine smile now and spoke in a clear voice.
“I’ll never have a bad hair day again. I’ll never get fat or grow old.” She said, turning back to the tray and grabbing a ball of dough to roll again. “Those worries seem so stupid now.”
Lottie blinked her eyes once at the sudden shift but did her best to shake it off. This was how Immy lived now and she would need to get used to it. “Well… do you… want to have worries? Here?”
“Worries are a part of life.” Immy answered, rolling another ball. “Without them, life isn’t..life.”
Immy offered a giggle, though it didn’t totally replace the sadness. She was quiet for a few seconds, before she spoke to Lottie again over her shoulder.
“Hey, Lot. Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything, Immy.” Lottie replied with a smile and moved to lean on the counter next to Immy but out of her way. “What is it?”
“Has Jasper..talked about me at all? Like, has he mentioned me or..I need to know..” she trailed off, hoping that what she had already said spoke for what she was wondering. Her expression was measured, but only barely so.”
“Jasper?” Lottie questioned, confused, then realized and stood up again “Oh, Master Branson. He’s mentioned you a couple of times I think, how what happened to you was tragic.”
“Really?” Immy asked, allowing a small smile. “So he seemed sad?”
“Um… I don’t know about sad?” Lottie replied innocently. “Maybe a little? But he still seems a little mad too? I don’t know why… maybe he’s not mad. I don’t know.”
“What did he say?” Immy asked, the smile evaporating. “Just tell me everything, Lottie. No one ever tells me anything.”
“Mm… you know I try not to listen too hard to the masters’ conversations.” Lottie reminded the woman as a preface to what she was about to say. “The other day when I was working, Mistress King was taunting Master Branson about you, that you’re in love with him and always ask about him, and that it came from some person who thought he had a chance with you, whatever that means?”
Her face scrunched briefly and she continued, “He asked what Mistress King was talking about and she accused him of being jealous. He said there was no reason to be jealous because…” she hesitated a moment, obviously trying to remember, “you’d made your intentions clear?”
“What?” Immy asked, her curiosity mixing with the general frustration of feeling completely out of control. “What does that even mean? He hasn’t visited, so I don’t know how that could be good.”
She opened the oven and pushed the cookies in roughly. She then closed the oven and moved to the sink to wash her hands. There were some obvious signs of irritation, but she was mostly trying to keep it to herself.
“He really didn’t seem jealous?”
“I don’t know, Immy. I don’t really know what that… looks like? I’d say no. Was he supposed to be?” She asked, sweet and innocent as ever.
“Yes, he was supposed to be.” Immy said, her brow furrowed. “I can’t believe that fucking asshole. I wish I had the power I had before; I’d jettison him out of an airlock.”
She avoided the urge to physicalize her anger and, instead, leaned against the counter next to Lottie. Rolling her eyes, she stood up straight again.
“You know what? We’re not waiting.”
She opened the door, grabbed an oven mitt, and pulled out perfectly browned peanut butter cookies. Putting them down on the stove top, she picked one up and took a bite. So much for realism.
“But… why?” Lottie asked, not touching the cookies yet and instead just looking at Immy, trying to figure out what was going on here.
“You know, Lottie. You walked in on it..” Immy said, lowering her head in a brief indication of shame. “So, because we did that and he clearly still doesn’t give a fuck about me. Men are pigs.”
This was all very confusing. She knew what Immy was talking about, but she wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. There certainly weren’t any feelings behind the act and Immy had wanted to do it, she had said so herself. She remembered the night Immy had come back to the slave quarters in the middle of the night after she had gone to be with Master Branson and she had been upset but refused to talk about why and Lottie of course hadn’t pressed.
“I don’t think it’s like that, Immy, but um… do you remember the night you came back to our room upset about something? Does it have anything to do with that? Because I know after you didn’t um… uh… yeah… anymore…”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Immy said, her mouth full of cookies. She spoke with her mouth full regardless, never having been one for fancy things or people. “We fought because he was showing me what he’s showing me now. That I was just a slave..that I’m disposable, and he doesn’t give a damn about me.”
“Umm… Immy?” Lottie frowned slightly. “I’m sorry… I really don’t know a lot of things about life, so maybe I’m wrong, but didn’t you really only know each other a few days…? Is that… long enough to be anything to another person?”
“It’s long enough to be anything, yes.” Immy said with a frown. “Why does everyone keep asking that? As if dozens of hours of bonding and crazy sex isn’t enough to bring people together and make them care about each other? It was enough for me. But, then again, sex isn’t something I just give away. And I…wanted to be loved and to try. How long does it take, exactly, before love begins? Would six months of degrading public fucking make him want to marry me?”
She was a romantic and always had been. All her life, she had wanted to be in love, but never had the chance to do so freely. Nothing was free. It was complicated by the fact she wanted to use Jasper to buy her freedom. Wanting his money, however, didn’t prevent her from wanting the rest of him as well. She had given him everything she had, and she was still nothing to him other than a good lay.
“I… I don’t know any of those answers, Immy. I’m sorry.” Lottie frowned, looking distressed again. “I don’t know how much time or what needs to be done to make someone love another person and I probably never will, so I’m sorry I can’t help… but I’m here to listen.”
Immy pouted then like a little girl, but it seemed like the time for tears were over. She turned and offered a grin at Lottie. She picked up the tray in one hand and grabbed Lottie’s insistently with the other. She pulled her friend over to the small two person table.
“I don’t want to talk about that anymore. I want to eat cookies with you.” She said, pulling out Lottie’s chair like a gentleman and looking insistently. “Come on, sit sit. Tell me about your day; about your life. Don’t be shy.”
Lottie blinked at the sudden change, but like with most things in the life of a slave, she adapted quickly. Taking the offered seat, she scooted in and picked up one of the cookies. “Okay well… hm… we’re in orbit above a planet called Sikaris. It is supposed to be some sort of pleasure planet - I don’t know too much other than that right now. Mistress Petrova had been talking about maybe going down there and bringing Ren and I along to do some shopping down at their markets. Apparently they have huge markets?”
“Oh I don’t think Ren likes working in the command office very much. At least not the days Mistress Cassiel comes in.”
“Oh, shopping. That sounds great.” Immy said with a smile. “I think you’ll have fun with that. But why don’t you think he likes it there? Is he crazy? It’s the best job we’ve got!”
“Well he had to leave when Mistress Cassiel came in and she and Master Petrov started um… doing what they enjoy when they are together. You remember I’m sure. He said the feelings were intense? Maybe he can sense them?” Lottie offered up.
“He’s half Betazoid, so normally they can sense the emotions of the people around them.” Immy said with a growing smile as she popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth. By the time she was done chewing, she had a full smile on her face. She let out a short, stunted giggle. “Did he leave holding anything in front of him?”
Lottie chewed on a bite of cookie while she considered Immy’s question and thought back to Ren. She had been busy working of course, but she’d maybe seen him do that? “I think so?”
She blinked then. “Why?”
“He probably found it ‘hard’ to concentrate is all.” Immy said smoothly as she grabbed another cookie. “You’ve had basic biology lessons at least, right? I know you didn’t exactly learn it on the street; what happens to men when they’re aroused.”
“U-um…” Lottie stuttered a bit. “Yes but I was taught men needed… help… with that. Does it just… happen?” She asked shyly.
“Gods.” Immy said, her smile increasing. “Yes, it happens on its own. The men who told you that were just trying to get something they wanted from you.”
“Why? They were getting what they wanted anyways…?” Lottie just shook her head and sighed, finishing off the cookie. “So he got that way because he could feel what Master Petrov was feeling?”
“Probably both of them. It sounds like a wild ride.” Immy said, her grin taking on a slightly mischievous tone. “Maybe you should ask him about it. Maybe he wants to talk. You know…about his feelings.”
“Both? Why would it be both?” She picked up another cookie and broke it in half. “Do you think he would want to? I didn’t think men liked to talk about their feelings and he seemed really uncomfortable in the office.”
“Ren is the sensitive type. You never know until you try. I’m sure he could tell you all about it..” Immy said, knowing she was on her worst behavior. “Do you like the cookies?”
“I guess I could ask him about it.” Lottie replied, sweet and innocent as ever and having no idea what Immy was potentially getting her into. She looked at the halves of cookie in her hands and then smiled. “They are really good.”
She then popped half of one in her mouth to drive home the point.
“Good. Since they’re replicated, you can take them back to your room with you. You might have to sneak them, but you won’t get caught unless you encounter a dog on your way back to the slave quarters.” Immy said with a giggle, enjoying the cuteness of the idea quite a lot.
“I don’t think we have dogs on the ship… unless you were talking about the men again.” Lottie’s lips shifted into an uncertain smile at her own attempt at humor. She’d never been particularly funny, but she tried.
Immy didn’t laugh, but she did smile at the attempt as a bit of confirmation that she both liked Lottie and understood that it was a joke.
“Well, if I were you, I’d try not to let those dog men smell you between here and your room.” She said in return. “I can only assume you don’t normally have a problem with that.”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Realistically though, Lottie was a pretty young thing and had likely earned her fair share of attention that had only been staved off by her Mistress’ hand. She ate the other half of her cookie, obviously in thought, and once she had cleared her mouth she spoke again.
“Immy… would you like me to just ask Master Branson to come visit you?”
“He shouldn’t need to be asked. He should just want to.” Immy responded, her voice gaining an immediate ice. “If he doesn’t want to see me, then I don’t want to see him. I don’t need to be told twice.”
“But you do want to see him.” Lottie pointed out, perhaps naively. “Maybe he doesn’t really know you want that. Like I said, when you came up it was because Mistress King was teasing him… men don’t like that so he was probably just mad and thinks she was lying or exaggerating.”
Immy’s first instinct was to blow off what Lottie was saying, but there was an unmistakable logic to it. She paused, and her eyes went down to the table as she considered it. Eventually, she looked back up at Lottie and shrugged.
“He’s free to show up if he wants to.” she said, trying more to protect herself from actually wanting him to do so anymore than voicing disinterest. “Other than that, I don’t really know what to say.”
Lottie made a slight face at Immy’s response, but seemed to know she shouldn’t push it anymore. She picked up another cookie to eat and reached out to touch Immy’s wrist. “I really am glad to see you. I hope Mistress will let me come visit often.”
Immy reached over, her smooth and delicate hand resting on Lottie’s. She smiled a pretty smile, her face now free from all the hardness of a slave’s life.
“I hope you visit a lot. Next time, we can do something fun!”
“Yeah! That sounds great. Though I really did enjoy the cookies.” Lottie opened her mouth to speak again when something in her pocket beeped three times. Immediately, she wilted slightly and sighed. “I have to go now and get back to work. I promise I’ll come back though.
“Wait!” Immy exclaimed, her expression falling to signal that she was hurrying. She jumped up and jogged quickly into the kitchen. When she returned, she had eight peanut-butter cookies in a plastic baggie. She smiled and gave them to Lottie. “Enjoy, and don’t give them away to everyone.”
Lottie took the offering happily. Her eyes met Immy’s, full of that sweet and warm innocence. “Thank you, Immy. I’ll see you again soon. Computer, arch.”
She turned to the arch but right before she walked through, she turned and gave one smile and parting wave to her friend. The next moment, she disappeared through the doors.
As Immy waved goodbye, her heart sank. It had been so nice to see Lottie, but there was no telling when the slave girl would be free to visit again. Silently, she hoped she would at least call. Immy’s hands were tied when it came to reaching out first. In that moment, as she tried to stave off feeling bad for herself again, the program was deactivated and she faded again into her own private fantasy world.
END