Page 7 of Naga General's Mate

The corridor to the sleeping quarters stretched before Mila like an endless tunnel. Her footsteps echoed softly against the polished floor as she walked past the guards, keeping her eyes down.

“Haven’t finished the comm room yet,” she muttered to herself, just loudly enough for the nearest guard to hear. She turned around, clutching her cleaning supplies closer.

The guard barely spared her a glance. Perfect. Just another invisible slave doing menial work.

Mila’s heart pounded as she approached Kurg’s private communications room. She opened the door slowly, being careful not to make a sound. The room smelled of leather and wood with hints of Kurg’s cologne still lingering in the air.

She pulled out her cleaning rag and wiped down surfaces while making her way to the communication terminal. The screen’s soft blue glow illuminated her face as she pressed her palm against the console.

“Please don’t be biometric,” she whispered. The screen flickered to life. No security prompt appeared. Why would there be one? Slaves weren’t supposed to know how to read, let alone operate technology. But her mother had made sure she learned these skills, albeit in secret long ago.

Her fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, navigating through folders, and the terminal hummed softly as she worked.

“Come on… Where are you?”

A file caught her eye—dated communications with timestamps matching the conversation she’d overheard. Mila inserted a data chip she’d palmed from one of Kurg’s drunk associates during the dinner party. It was one of many various items she’d secretly collected over the years. She never knew when one of these items might come in handy.

The progress bar crawled across the screen. Every second felt like an eternity.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Mila held her breath. She grabbed her cleaning supplies and dropped to her knees, scrubbing the floor near the terminal.

The footsteps passed.

The transfer completed with a soft chime. Mila pocketed the chip and reset the terminal display. She gave the room one final wipe-down, ensuring everything looked exactly as she’d found it.

As she stepped into the hallway, a guard rounded the corner.

“Finished in there?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” Mila kept her voice steady despite her racing heart. “Just heading to quarters now.”

The guard nodded and continued his patrol. Mila walked away, the data chip burning a hole in her pocket. With each step, the weight of what she’d just done sat heavily on her shoulders. There was no going back now.

Mila’s bare feet padded across the cold stone floor of the sleeping quarters. The data chip pressed against her hip in her pocket. Her earlier triumph dissolved into a knot of dread in her stomach.

“What was I thinking?” The words escaped in a harsh whisper.

Priscilla’s familiar form curled up on the bottom bunk, her golden hair spilling across her thin pillow.

Mila climbed onto her top bunk, the metal frame creaking. The ceiling loomed close enough to touch as she lay down. The evidence sat useless in her pocket. Who would listen to a slave? The council members wouldn’t give her the time of day. Their assistants were all in Kurg’s pocket.

“Should have thought this through better.” She pressed her palms against her eyes.

The guard’s boots echoed down the hallway on his nightly rounds. Mila held her breath until the sound faded.

Her mind spun through scenarios. If she approached the wrong person, they’d turn her over to Kurg. If she tried to bypass the proper channels, she’d be dismissed as a lying slave. Either way ended badly.

“Mila?” Priscilla’s voice drifted up from below. “You’re thinking so loudly, I hear you tossing and turning.”

“Go back to sleep, Cilla.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking about tomorrow’s duties.”

The lie tasted bitter. Priscilla’s steady breathing eventually returned but sleep eluded Mila. She’d acted on impulse, drunk on the possibility of freedom. Now that possibility felt more like a noose around her neck.

Dawn would bring new problems. Could she keep hiding the chip unnoticed? How long before Kurg discovered the copied files? The questions chased each other through her mind as exhaustion finally pulled her under into uneasy dreams of chains and running without getting anywhere.

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