"You're not really expecting me to answer any of these questions are you?" Beka asked, her words slurred by a swollen lip and sore jaw.
A cruelly amused laugh answered her. "No, we really don't. The only point of the questions is for your refusal to give us an excuse." A Nietzschean wound his fingers in her short, matted hair and jerked her head back. He examined her injured features with a grin. Beka closed her eyes and let her mouth hang open. A facade of defeat. She had waited for over a week for this moment. Beka Valentine might not have much experience with captors and political kidnappings, but she had seen more than her share of dramatic holovids on the subject. This was the 'lure them into believing your spirit has been broken' part. The 'spring at them with teeth and nails' part came very soon.
He was gloating over her wounds as Beka counted down from three in her head. She couldn't tense up until the very... last... And then she leapt at him.
"Aaah, bloody son a.... aah, damn, stupid kludge!" Apparently, no one curse was sufficient to describe his feelings.
As the man was hunched over, fists pressed against his streaming eyes, Beka was able to loom over him for the first time during their acquaintance. "You know, I know your friend there is going to rush me in less than a minute... and I'm going to make that minute last." Fortunately for her, he wasn't bent over so far that she wasn't able to injure him in every Nietzschean's favorite place. An expert in kneeing men in the crotch, Beka pulled off one of her best performances. He was /yowling/ now.
"I might get knocked around tonight, but in the morning, I'll be slightly less sore. You'll still be sterile." She probably hadn't hit him that hard, but now he screamed, clutching himself. She stood up and spun, surprised that the other Nietzschean hadn't sent her sprawling on her ass yet. In her excitement, she hadn't heard the door creak open, and now she heard nothing besides a Nietzschean on the floor, wailing about about his wife and children. The second interrogator was frozen in place, staring at something she couldn't see.
An amused voice, full of admiration this time, floated through the door. "It seems you hardly needed rescuing after all."
A cruelly amused laugh answered her. "No, we really don't. The only point of the questions is for your refusal to give us an excuse." A Nietzschean wound his fingers in her short, matted hair and jerked her head back. He examined her injured features with a grin. Beka closed her eyes and let her mouth hang open. A facade of defeat. She had waited for over a week for this moment. Beka Valentine might not have much experience with captors and political kidnappings, but she had seen more than her share of dramatic holovids on the subject. This was the 'lure them into believing your spirit has been broken' part. The 'spring at them with teeth and nails' part came very soon.
He was gloating over her wounds as Beka counted down from three in her head. She couldn't tense up until the very... last... And then she leapt at him.
"Aaah, bloody son a.... aah, damn, stupid kludge!" Apparently, no one curse was sufficient to describe his feelings.
As the man was hunched over, fists pressed against his streaming eyes, Beka was able to loom over him for the first time during their acquaintance. "You know, I know your friend there is going to rush me in less than a minute... and I'm going to make that minute last." Fortunately for her, he wasn't bent over so far that she wasn't able to injure him in every Nietzschean's favorite place. An expert in kneeing men in the crotch, Beka pulled off one of her best performances. He was /yowling/ now.
"I might get knocked around tonight, but in the morning, I'll be slightly less sore. You'll still be sterile." She probably hadn't hit him that hard, but now he screamed, clutching himself. She stood up and spun, surprised that the other Nietzschean hadn't sent her sprawling on her ass yet. In her excitement, she hadn't heard the door creak open, and now she heard nothing besides a Nietzschean on the floor, wailing about about his wife and children. The second interrogator was frozen in place, staring at something she couldn't see.
An amused voice, full of admiration this time, floated through the door. "It seems you hardly needed rescuing after all."