STARGÅTE SG-1—Sam & Janet (& Jennifer Hailey) in...
		A WORK OF BONDAGE FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2007
		Chapter 14

THAT NIGHT

---

Rather than heading back to the Dome of Learning, Kyna and Honna led Sam and Janet to Kyna's quarters in the War Tower.  The War-Captain's orderlies were either off-duty or were occupied elsewhere, but an elaborate meal had been laid out in the main apartment.  Hot items were in covered bowls on a heated metal plate at one end of the low table, and cold items were on a chilled plate at the other.  Carafes of pagesh and paga were nestled in bowls of ice.

Kyna and Honna removed their robes and bandeaus, then untied Sam and Janet's rope bonds and removed their gags.  Clad only in loincloths, in the case of the Pardesse, and their unattached wrist and ankle cuffs, in the case of the earthlings, hostesses and guests reclined on the cushions and began enjoying the meal.

Janet spoke first, between delicate bites of a slice of dark bread laden with something resembling a pesto of chopped vegetables and whole, tiny fish.  "So, what is it the Council wants you to tell us?"

Honna smiled.  "That will require some background information."

"Of course it will," Kyna sighed, winked at Sam and Janet, and used her hand to mimic a talking head.  "Blah, blah, blaaah, blah, blah, blah.  Scholars!"

Sam and Janet laughed, and Honna favored her friend with a less-than-amused expression.

"All right," Kyna laughed, "I suppose we do need to explain the motivations behind the proposal."

"If there are no further rude interruptions?" Honna drawled, and the others shook their smiling heads.  "Let me see... The Pardesse number a little more than one million individuals.  Most are on PelluciGor, but some are on small, carefully cloaked and shielded colonies and bases in this and neighboring systems.  We have abundant mineral and agricultural resources, so our extended economy is a closed loop.  However, generations ago, one of our greatest scholars developed what has come to be called the Quiescence Theory."

"Eventually, the Pardesse genetic reservoir will collapse," Kyna said in a dismissive tone.  "Of course, it is also true that eventually the suns will burn out, or that a neighboring star will explode."

"Wait," Janet interrupted.  "One million individuals, and you don't reproduce by cloning.  Granted, you're long-lived and have a low reproductive rate, but with anything approaching one-to-one replacement, there should be more than enough genetic mixing."

Sam paused in the act of sipping from her glass.  "No cloning.  So... where do the babies come from?"

Janet smiled, sweetly.  "Well, Sam, sometimes, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—"

"There are no daddies, wise-ass!" Sam responded, glaring at her friend in mock hostility.  "So what is it, parthenogenesis?"

"Actually," Honna said, "the procedure is simple.  It is relatively easy to persuade two eggs to exchange genetic material."

"They've been doing it for a very long time," Janet noted, smiling in the face of Sam's continuing glare.

"So," Sam said, shifting her attention to Honna, "what's the problem?"

"There is a mathematical possibility that our population could spiral into a state of insufficient diversity," Honna explained.

"That's the theory, anyway," Kyna added.

"The threat is vanishingly small," Honna said, "but the solution is simple."

"Broaden the gene pool." Janet suggested.

"Exactly," Honna nodded.

"We tried that, a few generations ago," Kyna said, "and were almost discovered by the System Lords."

"We sent ships to trade for slaves," Honna explained.  "Don't look at me like that," she added, noting Sam and Janet's negative reactions.  "Any women purchased would have been fully integrated into the Pardesse."

"Okay," Sam conceded, "so what happened?"

"The System Lords discovered that an unknown people with advanced weaponry had appeared," Kyna said.  "You can guess the rest."

"They descended on this part of the galaxy with a combined fleet," Sam suggested.

"Yes," Kyna nodded.  "Luckily, the actual location of PelluciGor remained unknown.  We engaged their fleet in a neighboring system and deceived them into thinking we had been destroyed.  The Wise Council decreed that there would be no further contact with non-Pardesse."

"But now that's changed," Janet suggested, "because we made first contact."

"Oh my god!" Sam laughed, "I get it!  It's like a bad 50's sci-fi movie: 'PelluciGor Wants Women'!"

"You can't seriously think we'd agree to sell you women," Sam continued, "at any price."

"They don't need women, Sam," Janet said, "only eggs."  She focused on Honna.  "Or would any nucleated cell do?"  Honna nodded.  "In any case," Janet continued, "there are... ethical considerations."

"We would offer scientific and scholarly information, in exchange," Kyna explained.

"Information?" Sam asked.  "Could you be more precise?"

"Sam!" Janet scolded her friend.  "You can't seriously be considering—"

"They don't need us, Janet," Sam stated.  "We've already given them an update on recent history, via our 'probe-trance' interrogations.  The System Lords have fallen.  They can gather all the, uh, 'nucleated cells' they want.  This way we have influence, at the very least, and, hopefully, a new ally."

Janet nodded.  "Well... I suppose it isn't that different from a commercial sperm bank or a fertility clinic."

"There will be careful limits on what we will share," Kyna elaborated, "and we will screen the background and achievements of the donors of the cell samples you supply."

"What sort of limits?" Sam inquired.

"We will supply basic science texts and general surveys of technological principles," Kyna said.  "We will not provide any information that will lead to rapid advancement, especially with respect to weapons technology."

"Sounds like more than we get from the Tok'ra and the Asgard," Sam muttered.

"The Asgard gave us shields and transporters," Janet noted.

"They gave us sealed components and sub-assemblies that we can't reverse-engineer," Sam answered.  "We still have very little understanding of the underlying physics."

"Oh," Janet responded, then turned to Honna.  "What about medical technology?"

"We will be more forthcoming," the High-Polymath said, "in order to alleviate suffering.  We will provide design specifications and full explanations of our simplest healing devices.  Further advancement will require original research, building on the principles involved."

"This sounds generous and reasonable," Sam said.  "Of course, my superiors would like to be able to upgrade our ships' shields, cloaks, and beam weapons immediately, but I understand your reticence."

"There is an additional requirement we have not yet discussed," Kyna said.

"Yes?" Sam responded.

"The Pardesse will only deal with you, Sam," Kyna continued, "and with you, Healer Janet.  We shall give you technology that will allow you, and you alone, to access our... 'stargate'?"

"That is the term they use for the chap'ai," Honna confirmed.

"Can we bring others with us?" Sam asked.

"No men!" Kyna and Honna answered in unison, and all four laughed.

"Contact will be very limited," Kyna continued, "at least for now."

"You must understand that opposition to this plan still exists," Honna explained.  "Best we keep our direct dealings on a very low profile."

Sam and Janet exchanged a knowing look.  "Politics," they said, together.

The food was all but gone.  "We can solidify the details tomorrow," Honna suggested, stifling a yawn.

"What about Vala?" Sam asked.  "We'll be there when she lands, right?"

"Oh yes," Kyna answered, sipping a cup of paga.  "We have a plan for dealing with your 'rescuers'."

"Nothing harmful, of course," Honna added quickly.

"What plan?" Sam demanded.

Kyna smiled, but didn't answer.  She climbed to her feet, walked to Janet, and hauled her to her feet.

"Hey!" Janet protested.  "What are you doing?"

Kyna had produced steel clips from a carved box on a nearby shelf, and was in the process of locking Janet's wrist cuffs behind her back.

Janet glowered at the towering War-Captain.  "Is this really—Hey!"

Kyna had forced Janet to the floor and locked her ankle cuffs together with a second clip.

Sam and Honna exchanged a knowing glance, and rolled their eyes.

"I suppose you want me to assume the bara?" Sam asked.  "Or would you rather wrestle?"

Kyna pointed to Janet's prostrate, helpless, naked, and rather peeved form.  "I suppose I want you to pick up the Little Healer and take her to the kennel, before I find my whip and warm your bottom."

Sam and Honna rolled their eyes again, but Sam hurried to carry out the War-Captain's commands.

"In the cage," Kyna ordered, once they reached the apartment's kennel-chamber.

Sam sighed, opened the door of the meter-and-a-half cube of closely-spaced, steel bars, and deposited Janet on the mattress-like pallet covering the floor.

"Inside," Kyna ordered.

"She is inside," Sam answered.

"Don't be coy," Kyna purred.

Sam sighed, crawled inside, straddling her friend, and pulled the cage door closed.  Kyna tapped her pinkie ring to the lock mechanism and multiple bolts evenly spaced around the frame closed with an authoritative snap.

"Is she always such a bitch?" Janet asked.

"No, sometimes she's a mean bitch," Sam answered.

Honna laughed.  She was leaning on the kennel-chamber's door frame.  "Try to get some sleep," she said, then turned and strolled back into the main apartment.

Kyna grinned, picked up a large coil of rope, and exited the kennel-chamber.  The door slid closed and locked.

Sam sighed, dragged Janet a few inches to the side, until she was oriented on the cage floor's diagonal, then lay next to her.  "We can stretch out this way," she explained, "you especially."

"Very funny," Janet huffed.

Sam smiled.  "I'm sorry," she said, and kissed Janet's lips.  "You know the short jokes don't mean anything."

"Not from you, anyway," Janet conceded, "but the frustrating part is I can't zing you back.  Take that, blond, gorgeous, genius!"

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Sam cooed, then reached out and gave Janet's left breast a gentle squeeze.  "That's so sweet."

Just then, they were interrupted by noise from the main apartment.  It was Honna's voice, muffled by the thick, solid door, but still intelligible.

"Kyna!  Ow!  Not so tight!  I can't bend any further!  M'mmpfh!!"

"Bitch!" Sam and Janet said in unison, then laughed.

"Now..." Sam gave Janet's breast another squeeze.  "Where were we?"

"Uh, Sam," Janet said, "I'm not in 'Need' any more, remember?"

"But I haven't thanked you for satisfying my Need, back in Honna's kennel," Sam whispered, and gave her nipple a playful tweak.

"Ow!" Janet complained, even though the tweak hadn't really been painful.  Both her nipples were now fully erect... as were Sam's.  Janet's nostrils flared.  "Honna claims that eventually we'll gain some measure of control over the pheromonal aspect of the Gift."

Sam's sniffed the musk-laden air, and her smile broadened.  "But obviously... not yet."

Janet shook her head.  "Months, maybe—as much as a year.  Young girls who can't control themselves are something of a comic icon in Pardesse culture."

"Yeah, Kyna told me a few 'warrior-student' jokes." Sam said.

"Funny stuff?" Janet asked, squirming under Sam's continuing caress.

"I laughed," Sam admitted.  She didn't mention that at the time she had been bound to Kyna's pleasure-rack and was being ruthlessly tickled.

Janet shivered, then smiled and gazed into Sam's eyes.  "Have you heard the one about the two 'alien invaders' locked in the kennel-cage?"

Sam's right hand slid down to cup Janet's sex.  "Haven't heard it..."  She slowly, gently eased her middle finger between Janet's labia, and brushed the tip of the nail against her clitoris.  "...but I can guess the punchline."

THE NEXT MORNING
THE PARAMOUNT TOWER

---

Hailey opened her eyes, then stretched.  The memories of the previous night came flooding back:  Bound and helpless, she had serviced Zanta, several times—then Zanta had serviced her—then she had serviced Zanta—lather-rinse-repeat...  She remembered being released from her bonds... and then they cuddled.  It was wonderful!  She stretched again and looked up.  Her eyes focused on the steel ring and its web of chains—and she sat bolt-upright in the tangle of teal and violet sheets.

Charis was gone!  The ring and its web of chains was still there, supporting the silk panels of the bed's canopy, but there was no sign of Charis' perfect body, spread-eagled and mummified or otherwise!  I must have really been out of it, Hailey mused.  They took her away and I slept right through it.

Hailey looked around.  Zanta was gone as well, but that was no surprise.  The "PardaUbar of Pan-PelluciGor" probably had several places to be at once, at any hour of the day or night.  Lingering in bed to toy with her exotic, alien sex-toy was probably low on the list.

Near the desk area Hailey could see an open door she didn't remember being there before, and beyond was a brightly lit space.  She went to investigate, and found a luxuriously appointed bath.  Should she wait for permission to use the facilities?  Her bladder urgently voted NO!  The punishment for piddling on the PardaUbar's floor has to be worse than the punishment for initiative, she reasoned, then padded into the bathroom and relieved herself.

There was also a shower, with a stack of towels in a nearby niche.  In for a penny...  She activated the controls, quickly wet, soaped, and rinsed her body, then toweled herself dry.  She was working on her hair when she realized—her collar was gone!  What does it mean? she wondered.  Zanta freed me—already?

"Would Mistress like assistance dressing?" a familiar voice inquired.

"Charis!" Hailey squealed, and rushed to embrace her slave-teacher.  The naked slave had been holding a stack of folded cloth and leather items, but they were now scattered on the black marble floor.

Hailey noted the brown leather boots and harness and the camouflage bandeau and loincloth at her feet, but her main attention was on Charis.

"Mistress!" Charis objected.  "What are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry, Slave-Teacher," Hailey said, dropped to the floor, and assumed the position of obesience.

"Mistress!" Charis gasped, again, this time in a very scandalized tone.  She pulled Hailey to her feet, and knelt, herself.  "Mistress is no longer a slave," she said.  "Mistress must behave with the proper decorum."

"Oh, sorry," Hailey responded, again... then smiled.  "Wait a minute.  If I'm a 'Mistress', why are you being so bossy?"

"Sorry, Mistress," Charis whispered, and pressed her forehead to the floor.  "Forgive me, Mistress."

"Oh, don't get all...  Wait, look at me."

Charis lifted her chin.  The suppressed smile tugging at her full, perfect lips was unmistakable.

"Get up here," Hailey ordered.  Charis stood, and they embraced.  "Are you okay?" Hailey asked.

"I am well," Charis answered.

Hailey wasn't so sure.  Charis' skin was glistening with sweat, and her eyes had a slightly haunted, slightly fevered look.  "Zanta... uh, relieved your tension?"

"No, Mistress," Charis said.

"Then, why... She left you up there for hours!  Aren't you... hot?"

"I am a pleasure slave of the first rank.  I am in control—ahh!  That's not helping, Mistress."

Hailey's right hand was between Charis' legs, gently stroking her sex.

"Please, Mistress," Charis whispered, shivering in Hailey's embrace.

"Hold, slave," Hailey ordered, and nuzzled Charis' throat.

"Ahh!  I have orders, Mistress.  I am to help you dress, then see to your needs as you eat breakfast."

"How much time do we have?" Hailey asked, continuing to caress Charis' labia.

"Th-three hours, Mistress."

"Three hours," Hailey repeated.  Clearly, this was a gift, from Zanta.  "More than enough time," she purred.

"But Mistress—"

"Silence, slave!" Hailey barked.  "Lesha!"

Charis spun on her heels in a graceful half-turn—tossing her head so that her hair fanned—and crossed her wrists at the small of her back.

Hailey looked around for something with which to bind her slave.  She could try ripping up a sheet, but that would be pushing Zanta's hospitality beyond reasonable limits.

Charis cleared her throat, and nodded towards a shallow alcove on the far side of the desk area.

Hailey could see hairline, rectangular lines in the marble, and surmised the alcove was a built-in cabinet.  "Follow me," she ordered, and padded to the alcove, with Charis close behind.  She opened a drawer and discovered neatly coiled hanks of rope and cord, all in black.

Hailey selected a meter of thin cord and used it to bind Charis' wrists.  "I believe you taught me that resistance heightens the pleasure of release, does it not?"

Charis nodded.  "Yes, Mistress," she whispered.  She was still quaking from the effects of Hailey's teasing caress.

Hailey reached up, grabbed a handful of Charis' hair, and pulled her close, until their faces were less than an inch apart.  "I want you to crawl to the center of the bed, get on your back, and spread your legs.  I'm going to use every trick you taught me, everything that class of slave-students taught me, and everything Zanta taught me last night.  You are not to cum until I give you permission."

"I... I'll try, Mistress," Charis answered.  Her lips curled in a sly smile.  "Mistress is most cruel," she purred.

Hailey kissed Charis' lips.  Their lips smacked and tongues entwined, and the kiss lasted several long seconds.  Finally, Hailey broke contact.  "I've had excellent teachers," she whispered, and released Charis' hair.  "On your belly," she ordered.

Charis dropped to her knees, then onto her stomach, and began slithering across the smooth, black marble, towards the waiting bed.

Hailey followed, slowly padding in her wake.  "Uh... I'm not being too mean, am I?" she asked quietly.

"Quiet, Little Flower," Charis responded.  "You'll ruin things."

"Oh, sorry," Hailey answered.  Her smile broadened.  It's fun being on top, she decided,  "Pick up the pace, slave!" she snarled.  "We're on a schedule."

"Yes, Mistress," Charis sighed, and surged forward, dragging her breasts, stomach, and thighs across the cool marble.

DOUBLE-MIDDAY
PARLEY MESA

---

As she made her approach, Vala noted the flat, teardrop-shape of the top of the mesa.  A large, grassy ring with a stone border was obviously the landing site, and the point of the teardrop was occupied by a stone platform with a stone arch.  About a dozen women were present, all clad in skimpy gray or green costumes, and several were armed with bronze rifles of some sort.

Vala deployed the landing struts, eased the ship to the ground, then tapped the console, triggering the software routine that locked the controls.  Now, the ship's systems would only respond to her password.  Of course, given the advanced technology of her new "trading partners", the actual level of security this provided was questionable, but she had to try.

She walked back to the cargo area, and smiled.  "We've landed, ladies," she announced.

Laura and Galina were standing against a bulkhead, held in place by a cargo net, a precaution Vala had taken in case there was turbulence during the descent from orbit.

Both had been stripped to their boots, but Vala had given each a silk loincloth that matched the color of their footwear, rust-brown in the case of Laura, and saddle-brown for Galina.  The garments were little more than broad silk ribbons, encircling their waists, passing between their legs, barely covering their crotches, and providing no coverage at all for their buttocks.  Quick-release bows were tied on their right hips, in case the Cat Women wanted to examine the merchandise.

Steel shackles with hobbling chains were locked around their booted ankles.  Their arms were raised and their wrists and throats locked in rigid steel stocks, enforcing a permanent, surrender-like pose, with their useless hands a foot to either side of their glowering faces.  Rubber ball-gags with black leather straps stifled any complaints, and taut, clear rubber panels stretched over the gags and covering their mouths controlled the inevitable drool.  Their hair was combed back and held in tight ponytails by silk ribbons that matched their loincloths.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Vala chided, as she released the cargo net.  "I've pulled this scam many times before, and it always works."  She attached leather leashes to rings dangling from the collar portions of the prisoners' yokes, and pulled them towards the cargo loading doors.  "Well... it works half the time, anyway... almost."  She punched the sequence that overrode the airlock, and both the outer and inner doors began to open.  "Remember," she said, in a conspiratorial whisper, "your yokes are set to automatically unlock in three hours, and the keys to your shackles are in hidden compartments inside the collars, along with lock-picks and a few other useful things.  Once they put you away, get free, find the others, and... well... Samantha will know what to do, if she hasn't done it already.  If things don't go well, I'll get you out.  I promise."

The doors finished opening, and waiting some distance from the ship's deploying ramp they could see a group of armed Cat Women.  "All right then, it's show time!  Chins up, breasts out, eyes full of betrayal and resentment—Perfect!—and off we go!"

Vala led her "merchandise" down the ramp, and was met by a woman clad in a gray bikini, black leather knee-boots, and a black leather harness.  A bronze pistol was holstered on her right hip and a maroon ribbon was wrapped and tied around her left wrist.

"Greetings!" Vala said, smiling brightly.  "I am—"

The woman raised her right hand.  "Please wait until my superiors arrive."

Just then, there was a blue flash across the clearing.  The arch at the stone platform was rippling with tendrils of blue lightning, and female figures were appearing in the arch, walking into the clearing as if from out of thin air.

"How very clever," Vala purred.  "You have a transport system."  The woman warrior with the maroon ribbon was busy eying Laura and Galina.  Vala turned back to the arch.  The new arrivals included more warriors clad in green, a woman in white, and—Vala's heart skipped a beat.

In the middle of the group were Samantha Carter and Janet Fraiser!  Both were naked, with steel shackles on their ankles, steel collars around their throats, and ball-gags strapped in their mouths.  Their hands were behind their backs, and Vala surmised they were not there by choice.  As they came closer, Vala could see light chains that seemed to be linking their hobble chains with the back of their collars.

Despite their captivity, they looked good—tan and fit.  In fact, they looked better than Vala remembered.  The two of them had always been easy on the eyes—physically fit, nice figures, even features, etc., etc.  Granted, the doctor was rather short, but she had quite a pair of knockers, as the earthlings called them, and that adorably cute, pixie face.  And Samantha... well, Samantha was Samantha.

Their expressions were—difficult to read, ball-gags not withstanding.  There didn't seem to be any fear, even carefully controlled fear; but they weren't exactly at ease, either.

As they came closer, Vala could see that the green uniforms were actually a mottled mish-mash of jungle colors, predominately green.  Their boots and harnesses were brown suede.  The lead woman was a brown-eyed brunette, and a bronze pistol rode her right hip.  In fact, all the natives were brown-eyed brunettes, and very beautiful.  Limited gene pool, Vala mused, but certainly high quality!

"I am Kyna, War-Captain of the Pardesse," the leader announced, then indicated the white-clad woman at her side.  "This is Honna.  She... reads books."  Honna glared at Kyna, and the War-Captain smiled.  "All right, she is one of our greatest scholars and thinkers."

Honna smiled, then turned to Vala.  "And you are...?"

"I am Vala of the Klingons," Vala answered, "a peaceful but well-armed consortium of traders specializing in fine female slaves and breeding stock."  She indicated Laura and Galina.  "Here are two of our average specimens, to give you an idea of the quality of our inventory."

"Remarkable," Honna said, gazing at Laura.  She turned to Janet.  "I thought your hair was red, Little Healer, but this one is... red."

Kyna laughed.  "I believe you know these two," she said, nodding towards Sam and Janet.

"Uh... I do indeed," Vala responded.  "I see they are your prisoners.  Good!  They are Samantha Carter and Janet Fraiser, well-known enemies of the Klingon Empire, and I would very much like to negotiate for their purchase."

"I see," Kyna said.  Then, in one swift motion, she drew her pistol and shot Vala squarely in the chest.  The blue beam enveloped the startled "Klingon" in an azure glow, and she collapsed to the grass.

Laura and Galina watched this development with wide-eyed alarm—which turned to confusion when Janet stepped forward and delivered a business-like kick to the calf of Kyna's left boot; as business-like as her hobbling chain would allow, anyway.  She then knelt and gazed at the unconscious Vala with concern.  Honna took her by the shoulders, gently lifted her to her feet, and pulled her back.

"Not to worry, Little Healer," Kyna laughed, holstering her pistol.  "It's on its lowest setting."  She indicated Vala and her two "average specimens", then turned to one of her aides.  "An Air-Armada vessel will be arriving within the hour with probe-trance equipment," she said.  "These three will be taken on board and back to Pardé.  They will be interrogated and Gifted, en route... and I want the Guard-Leader to understand that this time the Air-Crew will take the lead in the Gifting.  The Jungle-Cats had their turn.  The Cloud-Cats get first shot at this lot, understand?"

"Yes, War-Captain," the aide responded, then motioned to the warriors in the immediate area.  Two of them lifted Vala's limp form and carried her away.  Two others took hold of Laura and Galina's leashes and followed in their wake.

"Thank you, War-Captain," one of the gray-clad warriors said.

"Very generous, War-Captain," another "Cloud-Cat" added, and Kyna nodded.

As they were being dragged away, Laura and Galina made eye contact with Sam and Janet.  They forced well-muffled complaints past their gags and tried to resist, but it was pointless.

Once the newcomers were at some distance, Kyna loosened Sam's ball-gag and plucked the rubber sphere from her mouth.  Honna did the same for Janet.

"That was mean!" Janet complained.

"And unnecessary," Sam added.  "If you'd allowed me to speak, I could have ordered them to cooperate."

"And what would be the fun in that?" Kyna purred.

"They'll be all right," Honna added, and kissed Janet's forehead.  "We'll head back to the city right away.  Saba is hosting a party tonight, and you are the guests-of-honor."

"I've been meaning to ask," Sam said to Kyna.  "Why do you use slow-moving airships for transport when you have the arch-transport system?"

"Phased quantum gravity lift technology is highly efficient," Kyna explained, "and once their drag-shields and inertial dampeners are engaged, our airships aren't so slow-moving."

"I see," Sam responded, turning with Kyna and heading back towards the arch platform.  "I'd very much like an explanation of the basic principles."

"I'm sure you would," Kyna answered with a sly smile.

Janet was watching Laura and Galina's now very distant figures.  Vala had been deposited on the ground, and the warriors who had been carrying her were now busy stripping off her costume.  "They are going to be all right, aren't they?" she asked.

Honna favored Janet with an amused pout.  "I believe I am somewhat insulted that you continue to express concern," she intoned.

Janet sighed, turned, and allowed herself to be led after Sam and Kyna.  "I'm sorry, she muttered, "but after we get home, Galina and that redhead, whoever she is, probably won't speak to Sam and me for months... if ever."

"And what of the deceiver, Vala?"

Janet shrugged.  "None of us will speak to her."

"I fear that even now you underestimate the ameliorative value of Bashasti's Gift," Honna purred.