Chapter 9
By Mickey

Status: Completed 9/28/2010

Word Count: 1,650

The long shuttle ride had been uncomfortable to say the least -especially from his position on the floor- but much to Mal's relief, it had been uneventful. Reggie, while he occasionally shot glares Mal's way, had not used the hotshot again. Thank God for small miracles. Though he was feeling a right sight better, he still wasn't one hundred percent yet. Besides, regardless of how a person was feeling at any given time, that thing hurt like all hell. No wonder cattle herders had stopped using 'em long before they'd left Earth-that-was.

Not wanting to piss off Reggie anymore than he obviously already was -at least not for the time being- Mal had made the entire long trip in complete silence, suppressing even the urge to groan when he moved the wrong way and pulled at his still healing ribs. When they docked, he waited impatiently for someone to release the manacles that held him and Zoe to the floor. While he wasn't in any rush to get off the shuttle and on Tartarus' soil, his ribs and rear-end were mighty sore and he could do to stretch his legs.

Wordlessly, one of the guards -followed closely by a second- crouched beside them and released the manacles as the shuttle door slid open. Rifle at the ready, the other guard gave Mal a not so gentle prod with his foot.

"Get up."

Both hands bound together and his chest still sore, that was easier said than done.

The guard who'd unhooked them kicked Mal hard. Groaning, he resisted the urge to tell both the ruttin' bastards what he thought of them.

"Get up," guard one demanded and lifted his arm, ready to strike.

Biting his tongue, Mal managed to get his knees beneath them, and leaning against Zoe, who was already up, finally managed to get to his feet. Zoe, eyes a-blaze with anger, moved closer to him. "I'm okay," he assured her, but he noted her expression didn't change.

Motioning one of the Tartarus guards over, Reggie told her, "Take these two to prisoner processing. Get them their meds, show them the sleeping quarters and brief them on the regulations of this facility." Pointing to Mal with a malicious grin, he added, "And, Corporal, if either of them gives you any trouble at all, even so much as makes a wise crack, punish him."

Patron, Mal noted her name tag before looking her in the eye, looked like she'd be all too happy comply with that last part of the order. "Sir, yes, sir!" Her hand went down to her baton and withdrew it. The look the pair of them exchanged told Mal he was likely to get a taste of the baton at some point soon whether he behaved himself or not.

Reggie turned and left and Patron eyed him, noticed where his gaze was and slapped the baton across her open palm a few times. Oh, yeah. She'd definitely be looking for an opportunity to hurt him. Mal wondered if it was because he was a browncoat, or if she just didn't like men. Or, just maybe, she simply enjoyed hurting people. Whatever the case may be, he decided he'd just keep his mouth shut for the time being and go with the flow. Last thing he needed was more torture.

As the guard led them to the processing area -occasionally poking Mal with her baton as they went along- he wondered if Reggie had ordered him beaten if either of them acted up simply to keep Zoe in line, or because he was hoping for another reason to hurt him. Not that he really needed one. He seriously doubted prison mistreatment got reported to anyone. If it did, it probably didn't matter much to the higher ups anyways. After all, only the worst of the worst was sent here.

Supposedly. Mal had his doubts about that.

Several minutes later, they reached the mouth of one of the mines. To the left was a gray, metal structure. Prison processing, Mal guessed.

Patron guided them inside.

"Sit," she barked as they entered and pointed her baton towards a row of chairs. "Either one of you moves or I hear so much as a peep outta ya's, you will be sorry," she informed them, her eyes never leaving Mal's.

As they took their seats, Mal looked to Zoe and saw the same burning desire to do something, anything, but they both did as they were told. Now was not the time. Seeing as how they were still bound hand and foot, it'd be foolish to try anything at this point. Still, Mal didn't like it one bit. They didn't need words to know what each other was thinking. How the hell were they going to get themselves out of this fine mess?

A few minutes later, Patron approached them, two large bags in hand. Thrusting one at each of them, she ordered, "Get up."

They did as they were told and accepted the bag they were handed. Neither bothered to look inside.

"There's pills in there, Aproxicolin, take two every day with breakfast and again at dinner. Don't miss so much as one dose. Take 'em with a least a small amount of food. It ain't pleasant if you take 'em on an empty stomach." Without an explanation as to what the pills did or why it was so important not to miss even one dose, she moved on. "There's your toiletries and five sets of uniforms and seven of underclothes in your bag. Laundry day is Monday. Don't miss it or you'll be wearing dirty uniforms for a week. Believe me," she added with a maliciously gleeful grin, "It ain't pleasant wearing a dirty one for that long. Or even for one day for that matter. Clean towels are kept in the showerin' area. You get one shower a day. Make sure you take it. Don't wanna go skipping that either or you'll regret it. Don't dawdle though. You get exactly seven minutes to get in, wash, and rinse off."

And that made Mal believe, more than anything he'd heard so far, that he and Zoe had been sent to hell. What could possibly be in the air or earth on this planet that could make not only the pills, but regular showering and laundering that damn important? He had a feeling, though she didn't seem inclined to mention it, that he knew what would happen if a person tried to take a longer shower than they were entitled to. Figured the pills kept you from dying a might sooner than if you didn't have 'em.

"You get new toilet supplies once every other week, so make 'em last. There's a lock in your bag to put on your trunk, which is at the end of your bed. Make sure you lock everything up. Anything gets stolen will not be replaced. Unless you wanna try to get it back yourself." She paused long enough to wave her baton in the direction of the door. "Move."

As they left the building and entered the mine, Mal noticed her slip a small breather unit from her pant pocket and put it on. It distorted her voice when she spoke again. "Men and women bunk together, no separate quarters here." With a pointed look, she added, "Don't mean you can get it into your head to share a bunk."

Yes, because that's exactly what they were plannin' on doing on this ruttin' hellhole!

After endless turns into the sparsely lit mine, they finally reached what was obviously the prisoner's quarters. Seeing that there were only about two dozen beds -if they could really be called that- in the room, Mal guessed that each section of the mine had its own living space.

Pointing to the only two unmade beds in the room, Patron informed them, "Your bedding is already at the foot of your bed. You got ten minutes to make it and get dressed before your shift leader arrives. Your area gets up at oh-five-hundred every morning and works from oh-five-thirty to nineteen hundred. You eat breakfast at oh-five-ten. Your shift leader will let you know when your rest breaks are. Dinner is at twenty-thirty hours. Lights out at twenty-two hundred. No exceptions. Miss a meal, you go hungry 'til the next one. Sergeant Franklin is your shift leader. He has little patience for slackers."

Which Mal took as a euphemism for, he really likes to hurt people who don't work to his liking.

As if reading his mind, Patron added, "He has his own... painful way of motivating them who need it."

"I'm thinking you need a demonstration." Before he could brace himself, Patron lashed out with the baton and caught Mal in the gut. As he sunk to his knees, she delivered a vicious blow to his still aching ribs. Turning to Zoe, she spat, "Try it, honey, and he'll get a lot worse than that."

Mal glanced at Zoe and caught her eye, gave a slight shake of his head. This ain't the time. She seemed to get the message and knelt by his side, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Grinning, Patron knelt beside them and undid their cuffs. "Don't even think about trying anything. There's two guards not fifty feet from here." Turning to Zoe, she added, "That goes for you too. Try anything, and he'll pay dearly." That said, she released Zoe's bonds and left the room, calling over her shoulder as she left, "You got five minutes."

As Mal gasped for breath, Zoe helped him to his feet. Glaring at the corporal's retreating back, he vowed that somehow he was gonna get him and Zoe offa this God forsaken rock. And when he did, he was going to make the Tyen-sah duh UH-muo who'd brought them here, and his twisted bitch lackey, pay dearly.

TBC

Tyen-sah duh UH-muo = Goddamn monsters