Once More for Old Times Sake *HF*
By BobbiTodd
Once More, For Old Times’ Sake.
“God damn it, woman! Defend yourself!” Daemon, the Grey King snarled at Bobbi Todd as the woman limped through yet another dismal solo performance in the Danger Room at the Citadel. She slowly picked herself up off the floor and stood before him. Her shoulders slumped with defeat and weariness, she looked up at her King. Her eyes were a dull gray.
“Why?” she asked simply. “I’m of no use to the team this way.”
“You’re right. You are of no use to the team. In fact, you are a detriment to the team, and you will continue to be one until you can defend yourself!” Daemon was angry with the little woman. It was difficult enough to trust her since the episode with Creed. She’d been badly hurt, but the medics had declared her completely fit now. She just didn’t seem to be trying.
He rubbed his forehead with one hand, consciously relaxing the fist his other hand had formed. He had learned that yelling at CiCi didn’t do anything but make her cringe. He just couldn’t understand why she continued to refuse to try during training.
Echo had distanced herself somewhat from her assistant, and that distance hurt the younger woman terribly, even though she understood it. Samantha felt that her secretary, and her best friend, had betrayed her by keeping the relationship with Creed a secret. And while no one blamed her for Martin Blank’s death, she seemed determined to put the responsibility on herself. Daemon suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen CiCi smile, or heard her laugh since then. She wasn’t the most expressive member of the Grey Court, but this ran deeper than was normal, even for her.
He glared down at the exasperating little woman who still stood before him, staring at the floor. For the sake of her teammates, she had to be able to defend herself, yet she resisted even the slightest bit of training. She flatly refused to face off against any of the Grey Court members, especially since the death of Martin Blank, and her performance in opposition to the mechanical aspects of the Danger Room was abysmal. The Grey King had had enough of her defiance.
“I am ordering you,” he said. Her head came up, her eyes wide.
“To do your level best,” he continued. She shook her head slightly.
“No, please,” she begged, her voice barely audible.
“To defeat me. Now.” She gasped. And attacked him.
Surprised by the speed, agility, and absolute ruthlessness of his opponent, Daemon found himself flat on his back, the point of his own sword, Anubis, just breaking the skin over his larynx.
“Are you defeated?” CiCi demanded, her voice shrill as her body trembled, poised to thrust the sword into his throat.
“What the fuck…??”
“Are you defeated?!?” she screamed.
Strong, stubborn, and proud to a fault, yes, but no one had every accused Gabriel Strong of being stupid. He looked the woman in the eye, and was puzzled at the despair he saw therein. He knew he could simply send Anubis away, depriving her of the weapon, or take it from her and use it on her. But that wasn’t the point.
“Yeah,” he told her. “I’m defeated. Good job.”
With a cry, she threw the sword from her and ran from the training room. Daemon called the weapon to his hand as he got to his feet. He looked at Anubis, and the drop of blood on its tip, for a moment before returning it to its pocket dimension.
“Holy rusted metal, Batman!” Echo said from the doorway to the Control Booth for the Danger Room. Daemon, slumped in his chair and staring at the computer screen, dropped his foot to the floor from its resting place on the console, turned to Echo, and said,
“What the hell?”
“Exactly,” she responded, gesturing toward the computer screen, replaying the Danger Room sequence with CiCi and Daemon in slow motion. He turned back to the screen in time to see his image rock slightly, as if he’d been struck by something. His eyes rolled back in their sockets. CiCi crouched and spun, throwing one leg out in a kick which swept Daemon’s feet from beneath him. As he fell, she straightened gracefully, Anubis appearing in her hand as she continued to turn, fluid as a cat. She twirled the sword in her hand, as if she’d handled the weapon her entire life, when she shouldn’t have been able to touch it. Daemon hit the floor of the Danger Room without making any attempt to recover, apparently out cold. CiCi dropped the point of the sword toward his unprotected throat. She froze as the tip of the weapon, the whole blade shimmering slightly, broke his skin, a small drop of blood welling up from the wound. Her face wore a bleak expression. A moment later the supine King blinked, and his eyes cleared. Only one who knew him well would have recognized the expression on his face as surprise. CiCi spoke without moving. The slow motion replay was without sound, but Echo had long ago perfected the ability to read lips. She frowned at CiCi’s words.
“Are you defeated?” she said, looking away from the screen.
“Hmmm?” The Grey King was absorbed in watching the events that had transpired a few minutes earlier.
“Odd question,” Echo said.
“I’d challenged her to defeat me.”
“Challenged?”
“I still can’t see how she did it.” Daemon started the sequence over again, this time at normal speed.
“I am ordering you,” the recording said.
“Oh, God,” Echo said, almost to herself.
“What?” Daemon demanded.
“To do your level best,” the recording continued.
“Samantha?”
“To defeat me. Now,” the recording concluded. A moment later, Daemon was on his back, Anubis at his throat.
“You’re lucky she didn’t kill you.” He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to explain. He could have returned Anubis to its pocket dimension before CiCi could have injured him. In the moments he’d been unconscious, however… He frowned at the screen.
“CiCi was…,” Echo struggled with the explanation, “in my brother’s … employ for fifteen years.” Daemon continued to wait. He knew Echo couldn’t be rushed, especially with a subject as hard for her to discuss as her late brother. “He didn’t like people to tell him no. So he … arranged it so that she couldn’t. She will carry out any order she receives.”
“Interesting,” Daemon mused. “And dangerous. If someone told her to go jump in the lake…”
“Close. Has to be an order.”
“A direct order, not implied?”
Echo nodded.
“Must have ‘I am ordering you’ first.”
“A trigger phrase,” Daemon murmured, setting the slow motion replay to automatically loop the sequence. “Any other safeguards?”
“Superior. Me, you, Jean.”
“In that order?” Echo just shrugged. Daemon grunted. He didn’t care for the implication that his orders could be countermanded. “What about the rest of the Grey Court Inner Circle?” Echo shrugged again. CiCi had odd ideas about how things were run, and who was over whom.
“Damn it, how did she do that?” Daemon muttered, watching the display once again. Echo tapped one delicate fingernail against the image as Daemon rocked back in slow motion, before CiCi swept his feet from under him.
“She didn’t hit you.”
“No. It felt like a Psi attack.”
“No Psi powers.”
“Mmmm, no measurable Psi powers. Let’s take a look at what those sensors show.” The display on the screen changed to include data on what many people referred to as the “Aura”. As the playback began, CiCi’s aura was an unpleasant mustard yellow, with flecks of gray throughout. Daemon’s aura was a healthy dark blue, with swirls of red. The red grew stronger as the sequence progressed. CiCi’s turned almost completely gray. As Daemon triggered the compulsion to obey, CiCi’s aura flashed white. Almost too quickly for the sensors to record, an orange streamer reached out and tapped Daemon. His aura all but disappeared. As she crouched and turned, CiCi was quickly surrounded by a blue field identical to Daemon’s. Daemon’s blue returned to strength when he recovered from the stunning blow.
“I’ll be damned. The little spike Psi slammed me, and mimicked my life force! Makes sense, really. There’s no other way she could have touched Anubis. But how did she do it?”
“Ask her.” Daemon nodded, then chuckled.
“To think of all the time and grief I could have saved if I’d simply ordered her to do her best during training.”
“Gabriel,” Echo said quietly. “Do you like rape?” Daemon, his temper always quick to flare, snarled at his Advisor. His normally rich complexion darkened dangerously and his eyes flashed with anger. He might be brutal, even vicious at times, but he considered himself to be an honorable man. Such a question, especially asked by one whose opinion he valued, struck him to the quick.
“Explain.”
“You are accustomed to having your orders obeyed,” Echo began, her eyes never leaving his. “But, ultimately, it is the recipient’s choice to obey or disobey.” She shook her head and Daemon interrupted, completing her thought.
“It’s not the same with her, though. A direct order would be obeyed, regardless of its cost to her. Hell, I could order her to kill Creed, and she’d find a way to do it.”
“But it would destroy her.” Daemon rubbed his forehead.
“Sure would make things easier, though.” He watched the playback one more time. “All right. We know what she did. Let’s see if she can tell us how.” He keyed CiCi’s call ID on his GCU.
“Chercheur,” he said into the unit. “At your convenience, would you please report to the Danger Room.”
Twenty minutes later the surprising secretary slipped into the Danger Room. Daemon, practicing Karate moves straightened and bowed slightly to her. She looked ready to bolt.
“CiCi, I’d like to go over your last drill with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Computer, replay sequence Chercheur eight seven.” He glanced as her, his eyes narrowed, and added “sound level zero.” He didn’t want to accidentally trigger her compulsion. CiCi paled as she watched herself effortlessly take down her King.
“Do you know how you did that?” he asked calmly. She nodded after a moment. “Could you do it again?” Already pale, her face went completely white.
“I nearly killed you,” she whispered, unable to look away from him.
“But you didn’t.” He pointed at the image. “You waited until I came to. It probably would have been easier just to kill me, wouldn’t it?” Reluctantly she agreed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“You said ‘defeat’, not ‘kill’. I didn’t want to kill you.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to kill me, either.” He smiled at her, using every bit of his considerable charm on her. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards just a little, and some of the color returned to her face. “Now, do you think you can show me what you did? Slowly, if you please.”
Echo watched from the control booth as the Grey King soothed and cajoled his jumpy Scribe. She smiled.