Delta 7 Pt 02 1

'You will not attack or hurt me, nor anybody else under the protection of the military.'

Delta did not protest as his supervisor released him from his bonds. The procedure was done. Fighting her wouldn't change anything.

No, wait, she had been the one ordering him not to fight.

The command hadn't hit him like he thought it would. It did not relax his clenched fists, or soften the tension on his face, but any thought of harming her? Gone. He could think about it, consider it, and know with every fiber of his being that he would not even pull a hair from her head. The idea alone felt so foreign to him now, it was almost sickening.

So the configuration had worked. Shit.

He still felt like the same person though, not meek and obedient like he'd expected a delta to be. But he also knew that soon, new commands would follow. Would he be able to remain himself, even then?

The supervisor unclasped him from him restraints, and Delta stood up from the padded framework. His hands were surprisingly steady as he reached for his pants. He didn't want to look down yet, but it already felt different. His dick settled against nothing, and the void was nauseating.

'Don't worry. The gel will keep you numb until your body has fully healed. And the chip takes care of any hormonal functions,' the supervisor assured him, her voice laced with artificial empathy.

He looked up at her face, his eyes burning with a renewed surge of anger and hatred.

The supervisor gave him a thin smile, and handed him a jacket.

'Here, you may wear this now.'

He took the jacket from her hands. His eyes glanced down, and he caught sight of his bare chest, still exposed from when she'd opened his jacket during the configuration.

In thick black ink, right below his left collarbone, the black triangle of a delta and the sharp angle of the number 7 had been branded into his flesh. Delta 7, his name and designation, etched into his skin like the markings on the bow of a spaceship.

He shrugged his old jacket off and drew his hands through the sleeves of his new uniform, the fabric cool against his flushed skin. He closed the zipper over the mark on his chest in an attempting to hide it. But his new identity was printed onto his suit in the same location, as if mocking his futile attempt at covering it up.

The uniform also had bands of bright yellow over his upper arms, vividly broadcasting his new status to anyone who saw him. Frustration defeated his self-control. He scratched at the fabric, but there was no give. The bands were seamlessly fused with the fabric itself.

'Stop that.' The supervisor warned, her voice cool and plain.

He dropped his hand.

'Follow me.' She instructed, not even bothering to look over her shoulder as she exited the small cubicle.

He trailed closely behind her, their footsteps echoing through the sterile hallway.

He couldn't even stop to hesitate or resist. The obedience was seamless. He'd thought it would feel different, more like a pressure, forcing him into obedience whether he wanted to or not. But it didn't feel like he was moving against his will. It was all so smooth.

It was fucking scary.

He followed her through the hallways for a while, until around him, a group of newly wired gammas joined them, all wearing the same gray uniform, but with bright bands of green wrapped around their own arms. Where were the other Delta's? He couldn't even see a trace of yellow during their walk through the hallways.

Finally, they arrived at the entrance to a large room. The supervisor stopped and motioned for him to enter. Without hesitation, he obeyed. He didn't even know if the chip forced him to obey non-verbal commands as well, but this was not the time to test its limits.

Green-banded gammas slowly spilled into the room, filling the space with a nervous energy. The supervisor's slender hand returned to his back, urging him forward. He had intended to blend into the background, but her touch forced him to the front of the gathering gammas.

In front of him, there were three pairs of betas waiting, fluorescent blue around their arms. They were with 6 in total, and their faces were turned away, focused on the gate at the opposite side of the room.

The supervisor's hand disappeared from his back. 'Stay still.' She whispered. And just like that, he couldn't even turn his head to watch her leave.

Motionless, he heard the gates behind him close, and whispers of anticipation disappeared into a disciplined silence.

Moments later, a young man with red bands around his arms made his entrance through the gate in front of them. He was slender, athletic, had honey blonde hair, rare if it was natural, and light brown eyes. His steps were deliberate and purposeful, commanding the full attention of the room.

The young alpha appeared barely older than Delta himself, but since alphas returned to the academy for 4 years of additional training, the newcomer must be at least 24, even if the guy stood almost a full head shorter than him. But he definitely couldn't be 28 yet. There was something innocent, something soft about his face that seemed out of place with their stringent surroundings.

* * *

Seven held his fist to his chest in a firm military salute, his stance projecting strength and confidence. With a clear voice and a calm expression, he addressed the gathered soldiers and officers. This was it--the moment he had worked tirelessly for. Crew 7, his crew, his responsibility.

'Welcome, Crew 7. I am your commanding officer, Alpha 7.'

In practiced synchrony, the assembled officers and soldiers slammed their fists to their chests in salute.

Seven began his speech, following the prepared script, while his eyes wandered over his beta officers. First impressions were important, and despite the security provided by the chips, establishing a natural hierarchy with his crew was essential for the smooth functioning of the ship.

It took all his strength not to be drawn to the glint of yellow, right behind the row of beta officers.

Him.

Even without the insignia and yellow bands, he would have known it was him. The delta. His delta.

The delta stood slightly taller than Seven. Broad shoulders, tapered to a lean waist. His skin was a rich tan, he had thick brown hair that curled slightly, but it were his intense, misty gray eyes that held Seven's gaze.

He was gorgeous.

Seven swallowed. Could the delta feel it too? This pulling sensation? Seven wondered how much of it was caused by their chip calibration and how much of it was his own reaction to the gravity of this man standing before him.

Quickly, he shifted his attention back to the rest of his crew and continued his speech. Carefully added to the prescribed restrictions on violence and the communication protocols, he introduced his own ethical guidelines; lying, stealing, or sabotage would not be tolerated on his ship. With this decree, the lower-ranking betas, gammas and delta would be powerless to disobey, their actions forever bound by his words.

It was a responsibility he would not take lightly. Being too strict with his crew could be a problem. His training had taught him that adaptability and flexibility were just as important to warfare as obedience and regulations. Pinning his crew down with too much could drastically temper the crew's creative thinking. Rules against lying and stealing though, those were reasonable commands to add to the prescribed list of rules he'd lay upon his subordinates.

'Now, gammas, delta, disband to your new sleeping quarters on the ship. Prepare yourself for tomorrow and rest. The war needs you at your best. Move out!'

Satisfied, Seven watched as the gammas hurriedly left the room. The delta following close behind after shaking himself into action.

His back was as beautiful as his front.

But no, it wasn't time yet. Shaking off the distraction, Seven refocused his attention on his betas. They exuded a sense of calm assurance. Each of the three couples carried responsibility over their own squadron. Yet, it was up to Seven to provide instruction. They relied on him, each and every one of them.

He would start with personal introductions and then dive into the first debriefing. He would do this job, and he would do it well. He'd prove them all that they hadn't been wrong by appointing him.

'You'll address me as Alpha, officers,' he started. It was important to remind them of the hierarchy.

* * *

It was well past midnight when Seven boarded Valor 7, the ship that would be his life from now on.

It was a ship similar to all other standard issue warships, and just like any soldier, he'd been familiarized with its workings during his training.

Finding the alpha quarters was easy. Crossing the doorstep? Not so much.

He had debated how to 'break in' his delta, as their first night together was colloquially called among the alphas. Some alphas liked to break in their delta's quickly, but Seven wasn't sure that breaking his delta, or anybody for that matter, would be very effective for the development of their bond. And he didn't like using the chip as a crutch to force their bond either. Commands didn't work on emotions like that.

Forcing his own need to the side, he popped two quick-acting suppressants to keep himself in check. He had to stay in control of himself tonight.

Seven stepped through the door. The delta was there, waiting for him. He had tugged the sleeves of his suit up to his elbows, and stood with strong arms folded over each other, holding onto the comm device on his forearm with a tight grip.

As Seven approached, the tension in the air became palpable. The delta straightened, and raised his hand to his chest in a slow salute, his pale grey eyes observant, as if still trying to determine what to think of him.

It was a good thing he'd taken the suppressants. Deltas were supposed to swoon for their alphas. He'd seen it before-- delta's accompanying their alphas, submissive and eager to please. However, this particular delta appeared neither subservient nor weak. There was an air of defiance about him.

'Join the bed with me.'

Seven undid the laces of his boots, and slipped off his jackets and jeans as he watched the delta do the same.

Undressing himself had not been part of his direct command, but he was glad to see the delta had some common sense in the way he obeyed his orders.

He kept his underwear on. The delta still looked defiant. He didn't want to force this.

He wordlessly guided the delta against him on the bed.

There was tension in the delta's muscles, but he did not actively resist when Seven positioned him against his chest.

'Try to sleep,' he encouraged.

The delta slowed down his breathing, but Seven could still feel the tension all over the delta's body.

Maybe "try to sleep" had been too indirect.

'Close your eyes,' he added. 'Relax.'

The beta's head slumped down against Seven's chest. It felt good to have this warm weight against him.

'Good.'

A small shudder went through the delta's body, then a thin exhale.

Seven smiled. Obedience was guaranteed, of course, but true submission had to be taught, and words of praise were good motivators for a delta in development.

* * *

When Seven woke, the morning's urges remained muted, still held in check by the suppressors he'd taken the previous evening.

The Delta stirred, warm and large against him. The lazy embrace was comforting, until it brought an unsettling thought. Had the delta been awake while for long, unable to open his eyes or resist Seven's last words while he'd been asleep? The strength of the chips left Seven with a mix of awe and concern.

'You can wake now.' He gently brushed the hair away from the delta's forehead, curious to see his reaction.

Bronze cheeks flushed as the delta slowly blinked his sleep away, but he remained motionless.

'What is your name?' Seven asked. He probably should have started with that yesterday.

'It's- I'm just Delta, alpha,' came the response, tinged with hesitation.

So that was his voice. Wow.

'You didn't choose a name for yourself?' Seven frowned. As an alpha, he understood the sense of pride that came with being nameless. He hadn't wanted a name for himself either. His rank and designation were more than enough to set himself apart from the others. But he did not see pride in Delta's eyes as he averted them from Seven's gaze. There was a flicker of emotion, something that he was trying to hide.

'What's wrong?' Seven asked, gently brushing his finger over the delta's cheek. The soldier's silence and reluctance to open up intrigued him.

'Answer me.'

'I'm not supposed to be here,' The delta admitted. He shrugged as if it didn't matter.

He also stubbornly refused to expand.

'Why?'

'I'm supposed to be an alpha.' The delta blurted the words through clenched teeth.

Seven sighed, finally understanding. He continued to stroke the delta's hair. Had he really believed that his physique would automatically qualify him for alpha status? It was true that deltas were normally smaller, more refined than this one, but strength was appreciated in every rank. The delta had to have known that there was more to becoming an alpha officer than having a commanding presence.

'It's okay, I'm sure you'll be a good delta for me.'

This time, although he'd meant for it to be comforting, the words of praise failed to ease the tension in the delta's muscles. He seemed haunted by the false belief of his own failure, as if the role of a delta was any less important than the role of any other soldier on the ship.

'What will you do to me?' The delta's voice took on a deeper tone.

'Nothing you don't want me to,' Seven replied, keeping his voice soft and calm. 'I would never hurt you.'

The delta's forehead sagged against Seven's chest, and he let the silence linger as he brushed his fingers through the Delta's short dark hair. 'I want you to join me in the shower,' he eventually said, taking care to avoid phrasing it like a direct command. He still wanted to see the delta's natural reaction.

The Delta tensed again, and attempted to pull away from under Seven's touch.

Oh, not good.

Seven bit the disappointment away, stood, and offered his hand to the delta, hoping to bridge the gap between them.

For a delta, pleasuring their calibrated alpha was akin to pleasuring themselves. They lived to serve. That was how it was supposed to be. Their natural subservience was what soldiers like him had been selected for.

Then why was this one so different?

The delta didn't take his hand as he followed him. He even hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly following Seven's into their bathroom. Seven relaxed his fingers. It was saddening that the delta would feel so defiant towards him. Now that he'd met him, it was clear how much the delta needed to be shown how important his new role was. Seven didn't want him to merely serve him as a superior. They were meant to love each other. After all the empty, uncommitted sex he'd had with his alpha women on the base, Seven wanted that bond of trust, respect and love more than anything he physically desired from his mate.

* * *

In the bathroom, Delta couldn't help but feel vulnerable as he stood under the steaming water, his back to the alpha. He tried to focus on the warmth of the water cascading over his skin, but his mind kept spiraling over everything that was happening to him.

Fucking genetic deficiency. He still couldn't believe it. How was he supposed to serve, to submit to this alpha, when he was supposed to have become an alpha himself?

'Delta, turn around,' The alpha's voice brought him back to the present. He easily turned to face his commanding officer, only then realizing that he'd followed yet another order. If only he could feel the pressure, some kind of force. This immediate obedience was fucking terrifying.

The bathroom was spacious, considering that they'd be the only two making use of it. Alpha 7 stood by the sink, his gaze sliding from Delta's chest, where the delta symbol and the number 7 were branded into his skin, down to his groin.

Delta felt a surge of panic as he stood there. He couldn't turn away, and trying to hide behind his hands would look pathetic. The scar would be hidden behind his flaccid dick, because at least the situation had destroyed any arousal he might have felt for the sight of the alpha's naked body. But the void was there, like a physical thing, impossible to ignore.

The Alpha's expression softened with concern, and he picked up a healing gel from the nearby shelf. It was packaged in a similar tube that his calibration supervisor had used.

'Don't move.'

The alpha stepped forwards, coming intimately close, and reached behind Delta to turn the shower off. Without touching him, he knelt down between Delta's legs. He began applying the gel to the scar tissue. It was raw and red, and it hurt, but the alpha's touch was so soft and careful. The numbing cream settled fast, until all he could feel was a soft, soothing pressure. It was intimate, and the back of the alpha's hand brushed against Delta's dick, but strangely enough, it didn't feel possessive. This wasn't the kind of treatment Delta had expected from a newly graduated alpha, who were supposedly raging with hormones. How was this one controlling his urges? Was this how they were taught to treat their Delta's? Or was this a glimpse into Alpha 7 himself?

The intimate caressing of numbing cream to his scar tissue brought a mix of emotions to the surface-- gratitude, panic, confusion, and a tinge of hope. Delta swallowed, trying to push away the embarrassment and shame that threatened to pacify him. He was a soldier, strong and resilient.

He had to try.

'I'm not supposed to be a delta. I was going to be an alpha,' he started. 'They made a mistake. Ask after my scores. They will show you, they'll-'

Alpha 7 sighed, sounding more frustrated now than he'd been when they'd still been in bed. He looked up from his kneeling position with a sad expression on his face.

'I know this is difficult for you, Delta. I can only imagine the turmoil you're going through right now, but I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to help you adjust.'

Fuck, he didn't want to adjust. He didn't want this. The alpha sounded like he cared, but he also hadn't hesitated to use his commands on him. He could still feel the powerless frustration of last night when he'd laid paralyzed against the alpha's chest, when he hadn't even been able to open his eyes of his own free will. He couldn't stay here. But maybe, if he could just prevent more commands from taking his freedom away, he'd find a way out of here.

'If you care, then don't use your commands on me. Treat me like an equal, not like some broken soldier. I don't need your guidance, and I don't need your pity. I've been trained. I can help you.'

'And you will. 'You're my mate.' The alpha stood up. He took one of Delta's hands and moved it into his own. Delta could only let him. The order to stay still was still in place. 'And I don't see you as broken,' the alpha continued. You're a valuable member of my crew, and I will treat you with the respect you deserve. But I want you to know that the chip isn't to be feared.'

Stepping even closer, the alpha reached out and placed his free hand on Delta's waist. This time, the touch was filled with electricity.

'I will support you, guide you, and help you find your place on this ship. But you are a delta. I'm your alpha. We can never be equals.'

Shit. This wasn't going in the direction Delta had wanted it to go.

'I never asked for this.' Delta snapped. 'You can't just-.'

'You will not talk about your disagreements with your ranking again. You will not complain about my orders or your chip again.'