by Abella Ward
I moved through the hangar bay wishing I had something else to wear. In my fancy toga, I wasn’t blending in very well. I needed a pair of coveralls or something. Above me, I could see several Dolcivs guards and engineers moving about in the control room. So far they hadn’t seen me. I stayed out of sight of the control room and hurried towards the back of the hangar.
I knew that Strath was powerful, but I hadn’t expected an armada of this size. He had what appeared to be dozens of fighter ships of all size with his insignia burned on the side. They lined the walls, looking well-maintained and ready for a fight. I passed underneath feeling naked and exposed underneath their brute strength.
There she was, my baby. Zephyr was her name. It was an ancient word that meant West Wind. The rebellion had captured it from some rogue Dolcivs smugglers and it had been given to me to carry out my missions.
She was a large ship with smooth flowing lines. I spent a lot of time and money making her shine. I loved that ship, warts and all. Compared to Strath’s sleek fighters the Zephyr looked especially dingy. There were dents on the side and scratches from the various dogfights she had been in throughout her long life. But I wouldn’t have traded her for anything.
I could see materials from the inside of my ship scattered about. There were my bed and sheets, there was my couch from the lounge. My pictures and the little treasures I had collected, a calcified bird’s egg, a plate made for me by stranded humans I had picked up on a run. I didn’t like seeing them scattered everywhere as if they were meaningless. They meant something to me. But I would have to leave them behind. There would be no time to gather any of it.
Every last inch of my ship had been ripped apart and searched thoroughly or so they thought. From the rubble, I guessed that they were still stuck on five hiding spots. Only five more to go, I thought with a wicked smile. They would never find them all.
Moving quickly and hunched over, I made my way to my ship. I used my own furniture as a shield moving from couch to chair, hiding behind each piece, slowly getting closer and closer.
There it was, only a few feet away, the door to my ship. I could make it. I would run onboard. They had no doubt disabled my computer, but I was ready for that. I had a backup computer installed on the ship. It didn’t have the functionality of the main computer, but it could activate engines, navigation and life support in an instant and that was all I needed to run.
I just needed to get on board and access the main panel. From there I could start the computer, lock the ship up and blast my way out of there. I paused, did I really want to blast my way out of here? I would make an enemy of Strath if I did. He was a powerful Lord. Wouldn’t it be better to have him on my side rather than as my enemy? He had been so kind to me, it felt wrong to reward his kindness with betrayal and destruction of his hangar bay.
I was hesitating, I had never hesitated before. I wasn’t the kind of girl to overthink my actions. I made a plan and then executed it. But I was learning all new sorts of things about myself on this ship.
I stared at the door, debating what to do. If only I had more time. But the truth was I didn’t and I knew it. The rebellion needed these plans. I didn’t have the time to try and turn Strath to our side as that could take weeks or even months. The rebellion needed these plans today. People were fighting and dying in the war and I had the ability to help them. I had to get the plans and go. I would do minimal damage to Strath’s ship on my way out. Once the plans were delivered, I would come back and try to find some way to make it up to him.
Taking a deep breath, I stared at the door and then decided this was it. I needed to run. I crouched down and just as I was about to rush forward a strong hand came down and grabbed my hair.
I screamed as my head was jerked back. I reached for the hand holding my hair, but it was a Dolcivs hand. I swatted and pulled at it, but it was like an ant fighting an elephant. The guard ignored the blows and scratches from my hand as if they were nothing. I struggled to turn my head and see who had me. I just managed to see a Dolcivs male glaring down at me. His hand tightened its grip on my hair as he pulled me back. I scrambled, struggling to get to my feet and get some control over my actions. But when I managed to get my feet below me, he kicked them and I was down again.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” I called out. “I was just checking on my ship. Let me go!”
But the Dolcivs guard didn’t care. His face remained a permanent grimace. He did not speak or even look me in the eye. He led me to a weapons locker and pulled out a pair of cuffs. He spun me around and pushed me against a wall, locking the cuffs tightly around my wrists. Saying nothing, he pushed me forward towards the elevator.
I shouldn’t have hesitated. That was my mistake. I should have run, but the thought of hurting Strath had stopped me. I held back tears and shook my head to clear them. I would not cry in front of this guard. I needed to be strong. Maybe there was some way I could talk my way out of this.
The elevator went on for a very long time. The guard and I rode in silence. I kept glancing up at him, but I never met his eye.
“Where are we going?” I asked him, but his only answer was silence.
The doors finally opened up revealing a dark and dank prison. A horrible smell hit my nose, the smell of sewage and sweat and misery. This wasn’t like the prison cell I had been in before, this was much, much worse.
It was freezing cold down here. The air was thick with moisture. We must have been near the ship’s coolants. Condensation ran down the walls and dripped into filthy puddles on the rough floor. Haggard looking people peered out from their dark cells. They were emaciated, their eyes sunk deep in their lined faces. They were dressed in rags, the men with thick, dirty beards that hung down to their chest.
The guard opened a cell door and threw me inside. My arms were still trapped behind me and I had no way to catch myself. I fell with a thump, the wind knocked out of me as my jaw slammed painfully against the floor.
I fought my way back to my feet, the guard watching from the other side of the locked bars. Without my arms, it took a long time and I fell back down more than once. When I was finally up, I looked at him desperately and he motioned for me to come to him. Gratefully I walked to him and put my hands at the gate to my cell. He unlocked my cuffs and I quickly backed away massaging my wrists. He left without saying a word.
There was no bed in this cell. Just a pile of straw in the corner with a filthy blanket next to it. There was no toilet either, just an empty bucket. I looked around at the floor, there wasn't anywhere for me to sit without getting wet.
From another cell came the plaintive cry of a woman. She was wailing loudly, a wordless tirade for all of the ills she had suffered. Her wail was unending, a constant cry that stabbed my ears.
“Shut up!” A male voice screamed. “Stop crying. Just shut up!” His voice echoed up and down the hallway making it sound like there were hundreds of men screaming. The woman only grew louder in response.
How had this happened? Just yesterday I had been treated like a king. Dressed and brought to a festival where I ate and drank to my fill. Then I had returned to my own private room with my own soft bed. Now I was stuck down here, waiting for a punishment I knew was coming. Sadly, I piled the hay up in the corner until it made a dry seat. Sitting down, my head fell to my hands. What was I going to do now?
Chapter Six
I barely slept. The woman never stopped crying and I understood why everyone hated her. By morning, I hated her too. At least I thought it was morning. There was no sense of time in this prison. The light was always the same. It was always cold and wet. There was the ever-present sound of water dripping, making the filthy puddles bigger.
I was starving. No food or water had been brought to me and I wasn’t yet desperate enough to sip from the sullied puddles that surrounded me. Instead, I sat on my dry pile of hay with my grimy blanket wrapped around me as I went over every mistake I had ever made.
Footsteps echoed around me. The guar
ds were coming.
I followed them with my ears, ready for them when they presented themselves at the door to my cell. My stomach dropped. Strath wasn’t with them. What did that mean? Had he given up on me? Was he going to let his guards interrogate me? I had utterly ruined everything with him. He must hate me and I couldn’t blame him. He had been nothing but kind to me and at the first opportunity, I had betrayed him. He would never trust me again.
The guards entered my cell and roughly pulled me to my feet. They cuffed me and pushed me out of the cell and down the hallway. The tall Dolcivs guards loomed over me. The other prisoners craned their heads from inside their cells and watched my progress with interest. As we walked, I focused on turning all my emotions off. I couldn’t let myself experience fear or terror. Or tears. I had to be strong.
I didn’t know if I could be strong. I had been trained for this, of course. But I had never been captured before. I tried to recall my training and take some comfort in it. I had to hope that it would be enough. I had to hope that I lived to see the end of this or died before giving any secrets away.
They didn’t put me into the elevator. Instead, we walked past it to a set of heavy iron doors. The Dolcivs guard grinned at me as the door swung open and I was pushed inside, just barely managing to stay on my feet. The room was dark and I couldn't see anything. Then a harsh overhead light was turned on. I winced against the brightness, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted.
My stomach dropped. It was an interrogation room, a bad one. There were shackles hanging from the walls with red stains on the ground below them. On another wall, there were chains that ended in handcuffs. There were beds with straps to hold people down, chairs embedded with sharp spikes. Everywhere I looked there was some new instrument of torture. I struggled against the guards, trying to push my way to freedom, but my exertion was nothing to them.
They pushed me back. Their hands were all over me as they spun me around and cuffed my wrists to heavy chains bolted to the wall. There was about three feet of chain, I could take two steps, but that was it. The cuffs chafed against my wrists and the chains were heavy.
The guards took a step back and smirked at me before leaving. There were sharp knives in a case, what looked like dental equipment strung up along one wall, pincers, pliers, spikes, branding irons. Every horrible thing that could be used to cause pain was kept in this one small room.
I stared at each instrument imagining what it would do to my body. I could hear my own screams. I could hear myself telling my every secret as I begged for the pain to stop. Eventually, I would beg for death.
I pulled desperately at the chains, putting both of my feet against the wall for leverage. I pulled with all my strength, but nothing happened. The chains were welded to the wall. There was no way a human woman could pull them out. I stretched the length of my chains, struggling to reach the many tools on the walls around me. But they were tantalizingly just out of reach. There was nothing I could do, nothing. There was no escape. The chains were thick, sturdy and short and there was no way out of them.
I don’t know how long I waited. I tried to avoid looking at the instruments of torture around me. I wrestled with the heavy chains praying for some way to get out of this. I was hoping for some miracle that I knew would never come. Where was Strath? Maybe if I could see him I could explain everything. But no, if I did that he would know why I was here, he would know I was working with the rebellion. There was no telling what he might do with that information. He could use it as leverage against the Regime, offer me up in exchange for whatever he wanted.
When the doors opened again, Strath was on the other side. I had been hoping to see him, but when I finally did and opened my mouth to say something, nothing came out. Tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn’t lie to him. He would know immediately and he would take it as an insult. I couldn’t tell him the truth, there was too much at stake.
He took a pair of pliers off the wall and held them in his hand as he walked towards me. I shrunk back away from him, pressing against the wall. I stared at a puddle on the floor wondering how long I would last.
“Did I not treat you well?” He asked me laying the pliers down on a table just out of my reach. “Was I not kind to you? I offered you protection and a comfortable life on my ship and you repay me with theft?”
His voice was low and dangerous. I wished that he was yelling or screaming, I could deal with that. Instead, his voice was vibrating with a barely-controlled anger. Every time he looked at me it was with a furious glare. His playful flirting was gone. His interest in my humanity was gone. There was only anger left in him. I was forced to be aware of his strength, of the power he held over me.
He went back to the wall of weapons and pulled the branding iron off the wall and put it down next to the pliers.
“Do you think I want these used on you?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Didn’t I tell you how to refer to me?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I replied, but it came out a sob. He stopped in his tracks and looked at me. Was it possible I could see a glimmer of pity there?
“What were you doing?” he asked me.
“Going to my ship,” I answered, my voice a hoarse whisper.
He walked over to me, his footsteps loud and angry. He clamped his hand around my throat and pushed me back against the wall. He wasn’t choking me, but he could if he wanted to. His giant hand could have crushed my windpipe with a simple flex.
“Why?” he demanded, his bright blue eyes were searching mine, scanning my face for any hint of a lie.
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell him. I owed it to my people to last as long as I could. I wasn’t ready to betray the rebellion. I shook my head and looked down to avoid the harsh glare coming from his beautiful eyes. His hand tightened around my throat.
“Tell me,” he answered.
I shook my head again. A sob escaped my lips. Tears were falling down my cheek. One fell and landed on his wrist. He looked down at it and then pulled his hand away.
“How long do you imagine you’ll last?” he asked me. “Nothing has happened and already you’re in tears. A pretty thing like you should never have involved herself in a business like smuggling.”
He walked over to me, but instead of wrapping his hand around my throat he brought his hand up and softly caressed my cheek. “You are soft, Andromeda Nus.”
“Do you know the life I could have given you?” he asked. “The pleasures you could have experienced with me? Now look where you are. Look what you have forced me to do.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, my head hanging low, my tears falling and adding their liquid to the puddle below me.
He tilted my chin until I was looking at him. “Say it again,” he said his eyes locked on mine.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated looking deep into his eyes. I was sorry. I hadn’t meant to hurt him. He was caught up in this war the same way that I was. He hadn’t known my real purpose for taking the job or being in this system. He wanted to protect his people from smugglers, from people like me.
He had made a genuine offer to me, but I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t leave the rebellion. The Regime was crushing humanity. They were destroying Earth, killing and enslaving my people. Strath had left the Regime, he wanted no part in the war against humanity. But I did. I couldn’t just walk away. I couldn’t live on his ship and ignore the suffering of my people. I was a fighter and I was going to die fighting.
He nodded once at me. It was the truth and he could recognize that. He said nothing else. He looked at me and shook his head.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” he said over his shoulder.
Then he was gone. He walked out and the door closed behind him.
Straining against my chains I tried to reach for the tray of tools, but it was useless. They had been put just past my reach to taunt me. Finally, I gave up and let the chains go slack. I fell back against the wall, falling down to the wet f
loor. I didn’t care anymore. I was going to die in this room. Wet or dry, none of it mattered.
Somewhere below me, in the spinning mass of gasses of the red planet, were the plans the rebellion so desperately needed. Would someone else come to get them? Would the plans make it into the right hands? I had no way to know. But I wouldn’t tell Strath about them. I would manage to keep this secret. No matter what they did to me, I would never tell.
I repeated this to myself. It was a mantra I said over and over again until it was true. I would die before I talked.
Chapter Seven
I didn’t know how long it took, but eventually Strath returned. I don’t know if I really slept, or if I just thought I did. I was hungry. The hunger had turned from pain to nausea to a general unending ache. I was also terribly thirsty. My mouth was dry, my lips chapped.
“Stand, inmate,” a guard ordered. I glared at him and stumbled to my feet. My limbs were numb, my wrists were red and raw from the shackles. My arms ached from being tied to the heavy chains. I had to lean against the wall when I stood, my legs couldn’t hold me.
Strath walked in. He looked fantastic. His dark toga hung from his strong frame, his dark hair was shining and neat, his face was clean-shaven. He nodded at the guard who left and closed the door.
He walked wordlessly through the room, touching the chains on the walls and the torture instruments. But I was immune to that now. I had spent hours meticulously going over each and every tool in here. I knew them intimately now. I wasn’t afraid of them anymore.
I was waiting for Strath to speak. Why had he, himself, come down here? Why hadn’t he sent his guards to break the truth out of me? Maybe he was the kind of leader who liked to do this type of thing himself. The thought horrified me.
Finally, he turned to look at me, appraising me from head to toe. I stared back, unafraid, into his bright blue eyes.