Okay, so this chapter has nothing to do with the Doctor or Merlin, but it is important, I swear. It may not seem like it now, but it will be.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Katelyn kept her voice as neutral as possible. The act was one she had gotten very, very good at. Her voice was smooth and chilly, and infused with the utmost respect. Her loathing and fear was kept bottled up within as an acidic compound, the bound toxicity burning her insides and begging to be unleashed. Sometimes at night she allowed herself to indulge those emotions, imagining with sick delight ending Keeter's reign of terror in the most satisfying ways she could. Katelyn had never been delicate, or particularly reserved. She may look it, but she had grown up with a will of steel. Once she had been cornered by a group of creeps when the power was down. It was a rare occurrence, but the ship needed maintenance and the crew's safety had to be ensured. Four drunk thugs had attempted to assault her. She thoroughly beat the snot out of each and every one of them without a second thought, before calmly calling an ambulance. Her mother had taught her well, glowing with pride every time Katelyn snapped at bullies and creeps with that particular kind of vicious grace. Her father had reprimanded her, but his lips had twitched with amusement.

Her father… Katelin's insides felt warm, remembering him. He had been a human, but the best kind. Her mother had never meant to fall in love, but after the first time her parents had matched their rapier wit, Katelyn's mother had fallen head over heels for the dashing young man. She remembered them holding hands, staring at each other with nauseating adoration. Her father was a good man, but he was dead now. Katelyn's family had been intellectuals, fairly well known ones. Her father was one of the first to go, murdered in front of the whole ship. It wasn't quick, either. The gods knew what had become of her mother. After her father's execution Katelyn had been dragged away. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye. And that acidic rage was back. Hot and cold at the same time, it made her fingers itch to reach out and take revenge. Luarliniens were hunters. An ancient, proud race of warriors. She may be half human, but she still had a fight in her. If anything, her humanity made her even more dangerous. Keeter thought she and her kind were abominations. One day, she would prove him right. And she would enjoy every second of it.

But then those eyes landed on her. Cold, calculating, clever, and completely mad. They took her breath, stole it right from her lungs, and her defiance shriveled inside of her. Whenever he looked at her, she had the uncomfortable feeling of being torn apart. Broken down right in front of him, her insides and secrets bared to his cutting gaze. Analyzed. Dissected. Her strengths and weaknesses assessed, categorized, and planned for. It was almost as though Keeter knew her thoughts before she did. For all she knew, he did. It made her feel violated. Her thought were the only things she had left, and in his presence she wasn't sure even those were safe.

"Yes. Good." His voice sent shivers down her spine, and not the good kind. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself. Keeter was unsettling, and she hated him with everything she had, but he was undeniably attractive. That was part of what made him so dangerous. He would have made a good leader, had he not been completely insane. Katelyn was very, very glad he had lost the election to Adira. Adira has a conviction and honest passion that commanded respect, but Keeter had this energy about him. A charisma that drew people to him like bees to honey. No. No, that was too harmless. He drew people to him like moths to a flame. He was a snare plant, and they his prey. And when he had them, when they got too close, he consumed them.

Movement snapped her out of her thoughts. "I need you to do something for me, darling." He glided over to her, paying no mind to the shattered glass on the ground. Katelyn had to fight not to gag as approached, carrying the pleasant smell of smoke warped by rage and oily madness. He wrapped his absurdly muscular arm around her, towing her further into the room. She barely choked out the next sentence, thanking the gods when her voice remained smooth and pleasant. She had always been an excellent liar. "What can I help you with, sir?" She learned very quickly after the first vicious bruises that it would not do to forget to call Keeter 'sir'.

He smiled evilly at her, and Katelyn grimaced behind her smile. "This is what you're going to do…"