n a terrible blow to both him and his father when she was killed in an automobile accident, so much so that his father had resigned from the Air Force and taken a job as a flight instructor at a little airstrip in Auburn, so he could be there for his son. He still played, though he didn't have a piano now, only a little electronic keyboard that sat on the high shelf over his bed. But sometimes he felt the urge to _play_, and that required a real piano. There was one at a Catholic Church down Saint Charles, and they also had one up at the music shop on Claiborne. The week he arrived in New Orleans, he stumbled across the bar called Pat O'Brien's, or Patty O's to the locals. It was one in the afternoon on a Tuesday, so the place was pretty empty, and they had this room that they called the Piano Bar, which had two pianos on a stage to entertain the patrons. On weeknights and weekends, piano players would sit up there and play requests, which were written on napkins and passed up with a tip for the player. Playing Patty O's was _not_ an easy gig, for their players were expected to be able to play _any_ request. Most of their musicians had massive stacks of music books filled with sheet music for a huge number of songs. Well, he'd been feeling rather depressed because of being shipped to New Orleans, and after he bought a daiquiri, he asked if he could play. The piano bar was closed and the place was more or less empty, so the managers allowed it. They were _shocked_. Jason grew up with a mother who was a music appreciation teacher, and he had a _vast_ repertoire of songs he could play. Most didn't think that a six foot two inch guy built like a football player would be able to play the piano. Playing the piano always cheered him up, and after he felt better, he bought another daiquiri, and they offered him a job. They'd just lost a player to the three month random farm allotment lottery, and they were looking for a new one.

Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to work when he was in school. Then again, he wouldn't have had time for it anyway. He didn't work there, but sometimes when he went down, if they were short-handed that night, they allowed him to come up and play as a "guest musician." It wasn't _work_, but he was allowed to keep all the tips they sent up when he played requests. He did that every couple of weeks or so, earning a little extra money on top of the stipend he was paid as a full-time student in the Faey academy. That was how he could afford some of the parts in his little box, because he could buy them from campus workers looking to make a little extra money on the side.

"Let's go get cleaned up, and-" he started, then he trailed off quickly when six Faey filed into the gym. They wore the camouflage colors of the armor of regular Army, much like the Battle Dress that the American military wore before it was dissolved. They were all pattern Faey, with those pretty faces and sleek bodies, accented by that armor. One of them, he noticed, was carrying a length of chain.

"Well, if it's not the human making the Marines look like idiots," the tallest of them, a woman with raven black hair, announced loudly in English. "We're here to restore the honor of the Faey, since the Marines can't seem to manage it."

Jason looked her up and down coldly, steeling his mind against possible attack, starting the exercise that formed the wall of repetitive thought that would protect him from any attempt to invade his mind.

"We brought you a dog collar," she said with a vicious smirk, holding up a leather collar. "We're going to put you in it and drop you off at the Marine barracks with nothing but this on. After we have a little fun with you first," she said with a naked leer.

Jason brought himself up to his full height and stared at them. "Faey love games," he said in a quiet tone. "How about a little friendly challenge?"

"Really," she smirked.

"Whoever ends up with that dog collar around her neck has to wear it until Monday," he said. "The one collared becomes the property of the victor, and has to obey utterly until Monday. That means she does anything I say until Monday morning, when I go to school. Oh, and to make it fair, since the Marines aren't allowed to use their talent, neither are you. Think the six of you are enough to put that collar around my neck without using your power?"

"Six against one, and you think you have a chance?" she asked with a laugh.

"If you think it's a dead lock you'll win, then accept," he urged.

They looked among themselves for a second, obviously communicating with their telepathic gifts. "You have a deal," she said. "I'm going to enjoy having you as our personal squad mascot."

"I'm going to enjoy having a maid," he said, cracking his knuckles meaningfully.

Tim moved away and the floor cleared as the six camo-armored Army regulars moved to surround Jason, who spread his feet out a little and kept himself squarely in front of the one holding the collar. They all started taunting and calling to him, trying to distract and unnerve him, but his eyes remained solidly on the brunette and the collar in her hand.

The other five came all at once, seeking to overwhelm him by force of numbers and pin him down long enough for the brunette to collar him. That actually wasn't a bad idea, but they weren't ready to face him like that. He grabbed the one that reached him first and spun her into two rushing from the other side, making them crash to the floor in a tumbled heap of arms and legs, squealing hurting everyone's ears as their armor screeched against other armor. He surrendered the defense back to use that move, and the one behind him, the smallest of them all, crashed into him to try to knock him to the ground. He totally ignored her weight as he slapped aside the reaching hand of the fifth, then grabbed her other hand by the wrist and yanked on it. She was jerked in the direction he wanted her to go. With the sixth regular clinging to his back, kicking at him with her armored shins to get him to go down, he wove the one he had a grip on from side to side, not allowing her to regain her footing, exactly what he did to Jyslin, then spun her and crashed her into the heap of other Faey who were still sprawled out on the floor. A few slapping grabs at his flank got him a handful of armored shin, and he tore her off his back with main force. She clanged to the floor with her leg still in his grasp, but she took his shirt with her, ripping it off his back. He snatched the shirt out of her hands and let go of her, then advanced on the brunette quickly, wrapping the ends of a long strip between his hands. She backed up in surprise and raised both hands to protect herself, then her face hardened, and she attacked him with her telepathic power.

He'd never been _attacked_ before, not like that, and it was something he never wanted to have happen again. The full force of her mind smashed against his own like a spear, trying to punch through the wall of repetitive thought he used to protect himself from probes. It was blindingly painful, like lights exploding behind his eyes, as he struggled with all his might to keep her out of his head, pushing back against that force with every fiber of his being. He'd been rushing forward when she struck at him with her power, and his momentum carried him right up to her. He could barely think, barely move, but he had enough presence of mind to lower his shoulder. She gaped in shock as he managed to resist her attempt to invade and take over his mind with her power just long enough to get close enough to her to do something about it. His shoulder slammed into her upper chest, and his weight sent her flying. That impact broke her concentration, and he felt the terrible weight of her mind lift off of him like pulling away a blanket.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs and the pain, he lunged down and snatched the collar out of her hands before she had the presence of mind to roll away from him. Her eyes looked a little glassy; maybe she hit the back of her head on the gym floor when she fell down. He was about to reach down and put the collar on her when two Faey jumped on him from behind, one grabbing the hand holding the collar as another wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and tried to tangle his legs up with her own.

She did pretty well, for he found himself unable to shift his feet. He yanked in the Faey holding his arm and then grabbed her, and they all fell down to the floor in a pile. There was a great deal of kicking, thrashing, even some biting taking place in that twisted mound of struggling bodies, but Jason was larger and much stronger than his opponents. He managed to grab the collar with both hands as the smaller Faey tried to cover his eyes with her hands and the larger one tried to wrest the collar out of his grip. He rolled over on the Faey on his back, got his weight on her, pinning her to the floor with his shoulders, then pulled the collar out of the other's hands with a fast snap of his arms. She tried to roll to her feet, but Jason used the Faey under him as a push-off to power himself up onto his feet in the blink of an eye. The Faey had her back to him as she tried to roll back and away to get distance, so it was a simple matter to whip that collar over her head, then pull it taut around her neck and close the ends.

There was a sudden eruption of cheering from the people watching this impromptu battle, after it became clear that the collar ended up snapped around a Faey's neck.

"Awww, _DAMN_!" the Faey snapped in frustration when her hands felt the collar around her neck. She stayed on her knees, and fixed the brunette with an impressively cold, murderous glare.

Jason panted, suddenly out of breath and keyed up from the adrenalin, then got himself under control. He gave that brunette his own icy stare. She had used her power against him, had cheated, and _she_ should have been the one in the collar. She was the one he wanted, but he couldn't risk her doing that again when the other Faey had a grip on him. If she did, they would have gotten the collar around _his_ neck.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," he hissed at her savagely as he regained his composure. The one he collared got to her feet and turned around, looking suitably ticked off. She was a cutie, with a heart-shaped face and pouting lips. Her hair was dark blond, almost brown, cut very short, and she had large blue eyes. She crossed her arms and gave him a flat look, then she chuckled.

"Well, looks like we lost, and I got stuck holding the stick," she announced in thickly accented English.

"Strip," he commanded immediately. "All of it but the collar."

That got a roar of approval from the boys watching on.

She gave him a dark look, but did start taking off the armor.

He stalked over and snatched up the chain that was laying on the floor, and waited patiently as the Faey removed her armor, then stood there, her face turning purple in a blush-red blood flushing blue skin-as the boys in the gym whistled and clapped and generally embarrassed her half to death. He locked the chain to the collar with a smooth motion, then started towards the door, pulling her along. She followed, her head bowed and throwing dark looks at the brunette for getting her into this.

                                        * * *

She may have thought that he was going to be cruel to her, or abuse her, or take tremendous advantage of her, but she found out that she was wrong. He did parade her around the campus a little as the students cheered, since it made them feel good, then he went back to his room and took off the chain. She stood there by the door for a long moment as he sat at his desk. He felt her mind brush against his, but she pulled away when she found nothing there for her to grasp.

"Don't do that," he said gratingly. "I don't appreciate it."

"Sorry," she apologized. "Most humans don't even notice it." She gave him a long, steady look. "Well?" she asked in her accented English.

"Well what?" he asked in Faey. "Have a seat."

"Don't I have to clean?" she said in Faey, her face bright that she wouldn't have to chatter at him in English.

"It's already clean," he shrugged. "You'll be doing my laundry tomorrow, but for right now I don't have anything for you to do. So sit down and watch some TV or something."

"That's all? You're not going to humiliate me or make me do dirty jobs?"

"Do you want to?"

"Uh, no," she said quickly.

"Then sit down and watch TV," he said mildly.

"Where do I sleep?"

"That's your problem," he told her. "The bed's mine. You're on your own."

"I'm, I'm not sleeping with you?"

He gave her a direct stare.

"Isn't that part of my punishment?"

"I don't consider that much of a punishment," he said dryly.

"It is if you do it right," she winked with a naughty smile.

"_Faey_," he breathed, rolling his eyes. "Don't you ever think with your brains?"

"We're the dominant gender, human," she smiled. "We think with our brains as much as human men think with theirs. Imagine a human man's sex drive in a woman as happy to chase dick as human men are to chase pussy, and in a nutshell, you have a Faey."

Her forward, graphic language surprised him, but he made the connection quite easily, and she was right. Imagine a Faey more or less as a human man, and they made sense. "I wonder how either of us ever manage to get anything done," he chuckled ruefully.

"A question for the philosophers," she chuckled. "My name is Symone."

"Jason," he returned. "But don't take that to mean you're not going to _really_ hate me come Monday morning."

She chuckled. "I'll get over it," she promised. "So, what would you command of me, Master?" she said with a grin. "Wash your clothes? Reorganize your closet? Do the Moraki Dance of Forbidden Delights?"

"Keep talking, and you're going to be chained to the outside of my door," he said calmly as he turned on his panel.

"What, you're celibate?"

"On the contrary, I find Faey very beautiful and very sexy," he answered honestly. "But there's a principle here that I can't violate. If it weren't for that, you'd be pinned to the bed right now. You _are_ sexy, Symone, and I'm not dead. I'd be more than willing to give you that punishment you hinted about if not for that. I'd chain you outside the door to remove the temptation."

"Well, it's nice to be appreciated, and I do appreciate your candor," she said with an honest smile. "I'll leave you alone, since there's a matter of principle involved." Then she turned on the television.

He was quite grateful for that. And over the entire weekend, she was true to her word. She did not flirt with him or come on to him, not even once.

                                        * * *

Sunday was a very relaxing day, because he had himself a maid. And he worked her.

She didn't sleep very well, because she ended up sleeping in the chair at his desk, with her head and arms laid out on the desk. He woke her up early and got her to work. She did his laundry. She moved all the furniture out of his room and shampooed the thin, worn carpet, then moved it all back in while he and Tim sat on lounge chairs in the hallway and watched. She cleaned the window, inside and out. She stood behind his chair obediently as he and Tim sat out on the green lawn between the dorm and the main Tulane building as boys whistled and stared at her, though this didn't bother her as much as it might a human girl. Though Jason wasn't going to rub it in too much, Tim was more than willing to torment Symone by barking at her like a drill instructor, haranguing her whenever she didn't perform up to his exacting specifications, making her wait on them hand and foot, and once he slapped her on her bare butt as she fetched them beers.

"I'm going to hurt him," Symone growled under her breath as Jason sat at his desk, studying for tomorrow's classes, after Tim went to the bathroom.

"He likes you," Jason told her absently. "He's been sporting a woody since he got here this morning."

"I don't understand."

"English slang," he said mildly. "He's had an erection. He finds you extremely sexy."

"Oh, I noticed that almost immediately," she winked. "Why do you think I've been sticking my tits in his face every time I serve him? I have to get back at him _somehow_."

Jason glanced at her, then chuckled. "He's actually a pretty good guy, and a good friend. He's just enjoying the moment, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot of humans resent the subjugation, I'm sure you've noticed."

"Of course."

"Well, this is his chance to boss _you_ around."

"Ohhh," she breathed, then she chuckled. "Well, I guess I can't fault him for that," she said with a wink just as he got back. "Does he speak Faey?"

"Yes," Tim answered in Faey, but not pronounced very well. Tim was still mastering the motor skills required to speak the language.

"Well then, with your permission, I'm going to the bathroom, Jason," she asked.

"Fine."

"We'll see how brave you are on Monday afternoon, Tim," she said with a taunting smile. He jumped in shock when she put the palm of her hand against his shirt and pushed her hand down inside the band of his sweat pants. Tim's face instantly flushed, and he put his back against the door as the bulge of her hand in his sweatpants moved around. "Or even better, how brave you are tonight," she added in a husky tone, brushing up against him as she slid past. She flicked her tongue out and licked the lobe of his ear as she passed, then disappeared out the door.

"Oh, shit," Tim said in a wobbly kind of voice, sitting down at his desk rather hard.

"She won't get back at you, Tim. This is all part of the game for her," Jason chuckled. "Being bossed around is part of it."

"No, I think she wants me," he said.

"Whatever gave you that idea? Her putting her hand down your pants, or sticking her tongue in your ear?" he asked archly.

"Man," he said in a panting tone. "Was she playing with me, or was she serious?"

Jason suppressed a smile. Symone was getting her measure of revenge against Tim already. She was going to put him into a fever pitch for the rest of the day, he knew she would. It was what she did tonight that would tell the tale.

"Probably playing with you," he answered honestly. "I wouldn't take her too seriously. That, or you'd better go back to your room."

"She grabs hold of my dick, and you tell me not to take her seriously?" he asked hotly in reply.

"It's your call," he shrugged.

He was right about that. For the entire afternoon, Symone absolutely _tortured_ Tim by flirting with him, flaunting her assets in front of him, and taking all sorts of liberties with him. It seemed that every time he turned around, she had her hand down his pants, whispering mind-blowing obscenities in his ear. She got him back in spades for the bossing around he'd done to her earlier in the day, that was for certain. Tim couldn't look at her without his face flushing, and eventually, Jason had to take pity on him by kicking Tim out. Symone looked utterly smug with herself after Tim was banished to his room upstairs, but her smug look vanished when he had her stand outside his door with the chain locked to her collar, wrapped around his doorknob while he took a shower.

He got back, towel around his waist, and she was still standing there. "Um, Jason, you think I might go, upstairs?" she asked in a hesitant manner.

"What's upstairs?"

"Tim."

"Why don't you give that poor boy some peace?" he asked.

"Well, I was kind of going to go up there and keep all those promises I made to him," she said with a sultry wink. "You think a girl can do that to a sexy guy all day and not get horny? There were a couple of times there when I was about to pull his pants down and fuck him right on your floor."

He looked at her, then chuckled. "You would have had to clean it," he told her. "I need to study, so do what you want. Just remember that you're not done until tomorrow morning."

"When do you want me to come back?"

"Tomorrow morning. You're going to help me take care of tomorrow's Marines."

"Oh. I don't have a problem with that," she winked. "I get to have a hot night with a sexy guy, and I get to rub some Marines' faces in the dirt. Thanks. For a human, you're not a bad guy."

"For a Faey, you're not a bad girl."

"I'm about to be," she purred as she unhooked the chain from the collar.

Jason chuckled as she sauntered towards the stairs. Symone actually was a pretty OK girl. Faey, but other than that, she was alright. She had a sense of humor, she was quite candid with him, she'd respected his position, which really impressed him, she had a lot of patience, and she'd been a good sport. And her torturing of Tim showed that she certainly knew how to play the game. She was the kind of girl he certainly wouldn't mind calling _friend_.

But then again, she was Faey. He shouldn't get too cozy with her. After all, he liked Jyslin just as much, if not more, but his position wouldn't allow him to be friends with her either.

                                        * * *

Symone came lilting back to his room at about six in the morning, knocking on his door without considering that she might be waking him up. He was already up, however, for he was in the habit of rising early. He was lucky in the fact that he didn't sleep very much, and didn't seem to need much sleep.

She came in behind him as he opened the door for her, then leaned against it sensually and fanned her face with her hand, her eyes bright. "Where have you humans been all my life?" she said in a thoroughly satisfied tone. "Your friend Tim is-_wow_," she related. "No Faey man ever made me mewl like one of your _cat_ animals."

"I'm glad you had fun," he said dryly.

"Fun? That was more than _fun_," she said with a grin. "I had to take two showers afterward."

"Two?"

"I took one, then when I came back, Tim mussed me. I had to take another."

He chuckled, but said nothing.

"We're going out tomorrow night. I have a few friends in my unit who are free. Want to double?"

"No thanks," he said mildly.

"It's going to be weird having clothes on around him. It's kinda fun for me when he stares at my tits while we're talking. It makes me feel wanted and _very_ sexy."

"You'll get used to it."

"Trust me, I can get _used_ to feeling sexy all the time," she said with a throaty chuckle.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," she laughed. "So, what do you need me to do to get the Marines?"

"You'll find out." He paused a moment. "What makes Tim so much different?"

"Faey men are always so standoffish," she complained. "They make you bend over backwards to get a date with them, then they never tell you where you stand. They're always hinting, teasing, leading you on, and just when you think it's going to get serious, they dump you like yesterday's garbage. Tim was honest with me right off, and he really, really wants me, likes me, despite me being Faey. You have no idea how much I liked that, how much it made me feel _wanted_."

Strange that she'd say something like that to him, but then again, he had the feeling that she'd be much more forthcoming with him, someone she promised not to flirt with, than a Faey man, or maybe even a Faey woman. "Don't hurt him," he warned.

"I won't," she said in a dreamy manner. "Trust me, Jason. I'll be on his arm as long as he wants me."

"Be careful. He might take some heat because he's going out with a Faey."

"Nobody's going to bother him," she promised. "I know how to be discrete."

"Is he still asleep?"

She nodded, then grinned in a dirty manner. "I wore him out. But he seemed to take it fairly well."

"Take what?"

"Faey can make love with more than just their bodies," she told him. "Faey can join in telepathic communion while making love. It makes it ten times better. Sometimes it's just physical, since both people have to drop their defenses, you know, let the other into their minds, so that takes some trust. First time lovers, people just having casual sex, they don't usually do that. But Tim was alright with letting me join our minds. He said it gave him a little bit of a headache, but it was the most intense sex he'd ever had," she said with a bright smile. "Sex is more fun when you can feel your partner's pleasure," she winked.

"I'll remember that."

"Well, all in all, I'm glad you collared me now," she laughed. "I didn't like the cleaning, but I have a new boyfriend. That's a fair tradeoff."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't mind it all that much."

"Not at all," she said with a smile. "Since I'm going to be going out with your friend, I hope that means we can hang out together, Jason. I like you."

"I like you too, Symone, but I can't do that," he said seriously. "I'm one of those people who object to your presence here. My principles won't let me socialize with people I consider to be the enemy."

She laughed. "You're sitting there talking to a girl who's been with you for two days, naked as the day she was born, who just screwed your best friend until he was a quivering mass of jelly. That's not _socializing_?"

He chuckled. "Well, it does sort of sound like it, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I started hanging out with Faey."

"You object to the Imperium, or the people?"

"The Imperium."

"Well, I'm not the Imperium," she declared. "I'm Symone Zabelle. I'm not even Imperial. I'm a soldier for House Trillane. I serve a noble, not the Imperium. I'm what you'd call a private soldier, or a mercenary."

"Does your noble obey the Empress?"

"Of course."

"Then you're a part of the Imperium," he said bluntly.

"Well, what would it take for you to hang out with me?" she asked.

"For the Imperium to leave, put everything back the way it was, then come back and _ask_ us to join," he answered seriously. "If they'd have _asked_, we might have agreed."

"Well, you certainly don't want too much," she laughed. "Just give it time, Jason. You've seen how the Imperium works. You're not a conquered race, you're a part of the Imperium. As soon as you get used to it, you'll be just like everyone else. You'll be the equal of a Faey. You're not the _only_ alien race that's a part of the Imperium, you know. The Menoda have been part of the Imperium for over two hundred years. They have noble houses and everything."

He gave her a serious look. "We'll never be the _equal_ of the Faey," he said grimly.

She bit her lip, but said nothing.

"I like you Symone, honestly," he told her. "But you're a Faey, and I'm a human. It doesn't matter that you might agree with me. It doesn't matter that I like you, or you like me. The only thing that matters is that your Imperium conquered my world. Did you think we'd welcome you in? Did you think that you dissolving all our nations and moving entire populations around and putting half of us on farms wouldn't matter to us? Do you think that just because we can't rebel, it means we all simply accept your order like weak-minded sheep? Well, it doesn't.

"I can't do anything about the Imperium. I admit that, and in a way, I accept it. But it doesn't mean that I'll embrace your Imperium, your customs, or even your people. I'll go to your school and work for you, but I'll never enjoy it. Whether I'm in a lab or a factory or a farm field, it doesn't matter, because I'll end up working for you one way or the other. I can accept that, so I'll find the place that makes me happiest and stay there. I can't fight, but I can resist in my own way, just to show you that we humans are _not_ just conquered slaves. And I'll do so until the day I die. It means absolutely nothing to the Imperium, but it means everything to _me_.

"It's not personal, Symone. I like you, and you're not the only Faey I like. The little war I'm having with the Marines is based on the same issue. The Marine likes me, and I admit, I like her. But I won't go out with her, and I won't be friends with her, because she represents the government that took my life away from me and made me nothing more than a slave. I'm sorry if that offends you or hurts your feelings, but it's the truth. If circumstances were different, I'd be dating her right now, and you and me would be going out, getting drunk, and having a blast every weekend. But they're not that way. You're a Faey, I'm a human, and that's all that it takes in my mind to forever put us on opposite sides of a line. I'm sorry."

She was silent a long moment. "I can understand that," she told him sincerely. "And I respect it. I'd try to sound impressive and wise, but that's not very easy when a girl's standing here naked."

He chuckled, and gave her a gentle smile. "Your jiggling notwithstanding, I'm glad you understand."

"I don't jiggle," she said primly. "I undulate."

He gave her a surprised look, then burst into laughter.

                                        * * *

Symone was alright. Too bad she was Faey.

She did her part against the two Marines that showed up at dawn, who immediately piled out of their patrol hovercar and set up an observation post out in Audubon Park, out in the open, where there was no way he could get at them without being seen. Her mission was to distract them, and she undertook her mission with great enthusiasm. The Army hated the Marines, the Marines hated the Navy (what the Faey called their starship military service), and the Navy hated _everyone_. That was how the inter-service rivalries worked in the Faey structure. The Marines were an elite form of combat troop who also served on starships as ship to ship combat troops and ground assault, so the Army resented them. The Navy looked down their noses at the other two branches of the Faey military, even though they were more than happy to have Marines on board their starships as security. Private soldiers, like Symone, who served a house instead of the Imperium directly, were considered part of the Army, but more like the old National Guard or Reserves of America's dissolved army. They were here because their house was the one who had been given possession of Earth. Since the Imperium didn't have enough space available in the Navy, Marines, and the Imperial Army for all the women who served their involuntary conscription, most of them ended up in the private armies of noble houses.

Symone's help proved invaluable in getting the two Marines who showed up today. H