[ she's not any less afraid of him when he takes the knife back, not even when he sits down on the ground, like -- like he's expecting -- what? to be treated like an animal, or some slave? sonia doesn't understand it, can't even begin to fathom it, but beyond that terrible, barely caged-up murderous something was someone who needed help. not the kind of man who looked like he needed any help at all at a glance, but barrayaran soldiers don't take antipsychotics for fun. at times he seemed almost to be as confused as she was.
and if nothing else, sonia can't leave her curiosity so unsatisfied.
she tries not to feel the way her skin crawls at the way he looks at her, and for a moment she considers flight, just bolting away to find armsman gavalas and use him like the shield she's supposed to, to report this man to her sister or count piotr and have them deal with him. but she senses that to betray this man's trust, however little she might have scraped out of him, would be a mistake with bigger consequences than mere offense. still barely breathing, sonia backs away step by step, until there are about twenty paces between them, and then she turns and hurries back to camp.
the chief medical officer is still burdened with the weighy task of taking inventory from the raid, and it's all still a mess, but sonia manages to use her Imperial Attitude to berate a harried med tech into giving her what she asks for, or close enough to it, without more questions than necessary to determine exactly what she does need.
she half-expects him to be gone when she gets back, but he's still there. sonia doesn't know how close she should even so much as dare to get to him, but she holds out the small, rough-hewn bag to him, a couple of bottles of pills, all stolen from the cetagandan drug banks. ]
Here. [ her voice is breathy, part from running both ways, part from lingering fear that's returned in full force now that she's back in his presence. ] They only had one of those drugs, but -- the medtech said that the others might do for compensation. As close as they could get.
POUNDS FISTS ON DESK
and if nothing else, sonia can't leave her curiosity so unsatisfied.
she tries not to feel the way her skin crawls at the way he looks at her, and for a moment she considers flight, just bolting away to find armsman gavalas and use him like the shield she's supposed to, to report this man to her sister or count piotr and have them deal with him. but she senses that to betray this man's trust, however little she might have scraped out of him, would be a mistake with bigger consequences than mere offense. still barely breathing, sonia backs away step by step, until there are about twenty paces between them, and then she turns and hurries back to camp.
the chief medical officer is still burdened with the weighy task of taking inventory from the raid, and it's all still a mess, but sonia manages to use her Imperial Attitude to berate a harried med tech into giving her what she asks for, or close enough to it, without more questions than necessary to determine exactly what she does need.
she half-expects him to be gone when she gets back, but he's still there. sonia doesn't know how close she should even so much as dare to get to him, but she holds out the small, rough-hewn bag to him, a couple of bottles of pills, all stolen from the cetagandan drug banks. ]
Here. [ her voice is breathy, part from running both ways, part from lingering fear that's returned in full force now that she's back in his presence. ] They only had one of those drugs, but -- the medtech said that the others might do for compensation. As close as they could get.