Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for
They'd dressed her. Or rather a new PsiCop had. She was younger, pretty a detached part of Natasha's mind told her. It had been two days, if she hadn't lost her sense of time. Two nights since they'd…
She jerked at a hand on her arm. Another new PsiCop was putting manacles n her. He had a cold face. Cold eyes. He took her arm and pulled her with him. The female PsiCop helped hold her up. The took her outside of the cold cell with it's dark red patches. She shivered. She felt as weak as a new born. The corridors were as cold and rigid as the two guards who walked on either side of her were. She was taken into a room with just one chair in a spotlight, the rest of the room in darkness. She sat perfectly still when they made her sit. They had chained each hand to the chair arms.
A man walked slowly towards the light. "Natalie Skyan" he said in a cold voice, with a veneer of sweetness that was cloying. He stepped into the light. "If that is your name," he added. She looked up into his cold smile.
"We have many questions for you, which I'm sorry to hear your not answering." He was walking a circle around her. She stopped herself from following him with her eyes. He sighed and moved in front of her. "I know my… Predecessor didn't treat you well but," he stopped in front of her. "I want to help you. I want you to talk to me." He had been smiling but now he turned serious. "After all I understand, I can-" she laughed. Her laughter echoed off the walls. It was high and cold.
"You understand me?" she asked incredulously, her voice was harsh and papery. "You can't possibly understand me." She spoke with all the hatred and disdain she could gather.
"Oh but I do." He said silkily. "You're a Telepath, and the only person who can really understand a Telepath, is another Telepath, other Telepaths are the only ones you can trust." He smiled, he leaned over her, making her tilt her head back to look up at him. "So as you can see you can trust me." She shook her head.
"You can't understand me, and I do not trust you. Or any of your little jackbooted Hitler's." She leaned forwards. "I serve. Serve. Do you even know what that word means? It means you can beat me, rape me," her throat closed for a second, "but what you can't do is break me." She leaned further towards him. "You can't make me tell you what you want, you can't break through my mental barriers, and you can't make me think that what I am is not worth fighting for, worth dying for." She looked into his cold eyes. He stood.
"Well, your welcome to your opinion." He smiled. "But I doubt you've ever faced dying before, and you will tell us what we want to know to make us stop." His smile was gone. "But it doesn't have to be that way…" he offered.
"With my last breath I'll fight you." He leaned over the chair. His hands resting on her arms.
"And you'll lose." He said softly. She smiled, and pulled her knee sharply up between his legs. With a strangled cry he stumbled away from her, in obvious agony, he turned back towards her and as he did she raised a finger from the side of the chair and pointed it at him. He grasped at his throat.
"That's a telekinetic barrier stopping airflow through your windpipe." Tears slowly made their way down her face. He fell to his knees. "Touch me again and I will kill you." She said quietly and fiercely. She lowered her finger. He staggered to his feet. She remained still, staring straight ahead. As he staggered away, face pale the light switched off when the door closed behind him.
She sat for hours, she may have dozed, though she didn't remember doing so. Different thoughts flowed through her. She wondered if Marcus had gotten her message, or whether anyone was coming for her, or maybe this time he wouldn't come, whether this time when she could not help herself, she would have no help from others., but finally they came back. She looked up at Bester, he had several large men with him. Goons, she thought.
"Afraid?" she asked, a smile pulling at her cut lip. He smiled coldly.
"I'm afraid Miss Skyan that you will be taken out of my hands if we don't get some results… And taken to Earth." He stepped close and a whisper entered her mind. 'We want to help, no more pain, no more torture…' Her jaw hardened.
"Stop it!" She ordered. "Get out of my head before I make good my promise!" she yelled. His smile was like a snake. "I won't listen to you, I won't break…" she shook her head. "I was brought up by the Minbari Warrior Caste. They are the best torturers in the galaxy. Do you think I've never been whipped, d you think I am afraid?" He smiled.
"No, but I do think that you are alone." He clicked his fingers. The three of them left her, and she was for the moment alone. And she was sorry, when he was there she was focused, angry when he left her doubts returned.
Marcus sat subdued in one corner of the freighter's cargo hold. He sat alone staring at an invisible point in space. Stephen sat across from him, and next to Stephen was a large supply case of medicines, bandages and drugs, pain suppressors, antidotes for anything they might give her. Marcus shuddered at what she must be going through. She must be pushing through sleepers to get to him.
"Marcus?" asked Stephen. He looked up and saw Stephen's worried gaze. "Mmm" was his only reply. "Are you feeling okay." Marcus finally looked at him, a bitter humor lit his eyes.
"Oh yes Stephen I'm wonderful, so is Natasha tha-" he paused as something happened in Natasha's dream. He concentrated as a small whisper of an image floated through his head. The floor, dizzy, laughter, he was crying. He tried to pull away. He felt a hand on his arm. Stephen was calling his name over and over while he shook Marcus' arm.
"She's having a nightmare." Was all he said, Stephen's eyes lowered in comprehension, "Are they getting stronger?" Marcus nodded as he controlled his emotions, if he fell apart she wouldn't get out, he had to remind himself, he had to fight to bring her back, he couldn't fight this battle for her..
"Want to play 'I spy'?" asked Marcus.
"What?" replied Stephen. His expression similar to the 'your insane' expression that Natasha had a patent on somewhere.
"Come on, it'll be fun…" he said with an artful expression of artlessness. Stephen looked at him as though he was sure that Marcus was pulling the proverbial wool over his eyes but then so did anyone else when he said crazy things. "Come on Stephen… Please" he let a whine creep into his voice, it was working the images had disappeared.
"Alright…" said Stephen slowly.
"Me first!" said Marcus, summoning humor from somewhere.
"I spy with my little eye, something starting with B." He said with a slight smile, Stephen rolled his eyes.
"Boxes." He said with little enthusiasm. Marcus smiled
"Right, I spy with my little eye, something starting with M." He grinned as he looked around, their were boxes and…
"More boxes." Said Stephen
"Two in a row." He said enthusiastically.
"And that's when I shot him your honor." Said Stephen
"I spy with my little eye, something starting with E." he grinned.
"I give up..." said Stephen, now possibly annoyed, no a smile was pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, come on." Said Marcus, teasing.
"This better not be what..." warned Stephen. Marcus raised an eyebrow. Then both together.
"Even more boxes." They smiled at each other.
Natasha woke slowly. Mixtures of laughter and the terrible night two nights before mingled in her. She felt her empty stomach rebel. She retched, her stomach emptying it's remaining contents, some acidic tasting fluid, onto the floor in front of her. She dropped her face between her knees, her eyes stung, no more tears would come, she ached all over, from the abuse and from sitting in the hard steel chair. And the clothing had stuck to her cuts and was stuck in place.
She shivered, cold wind blew over her as Bester entered, with him was a small PsiCop with short hair, more interesting was Bester's face, he looked… Angry. Angry with the woman beside him. The blonde PsiCop who had overseen her first few days of torture accompanied the woman. "Give her the Drugs Ms. Winters." ordered the woman.
"Talia Winters." A memory floated through her head of her first visit to Babylon 5, She had been very young. The first human Ranger, she was carrying a message for Delenn from Sinclair, she had spent part of her time being careful to go nowhere near Ms. Winters during her visit, just to be on the safe side. The Talia Winters she had seen at a distance had seemed a nice person. This … Creature was ruthless and heartless.
The woman smiled, her lips curving not nicely but cruellly as she jabbed the needle in. Needle and woman went flying. The other woman stepped in and slapped her. Hard. She let her head roll with the blow. Blood flowed into her mouth. She let it pool in her mouth and then with careful aim, she spat.
Blood and spit hit the PsiCops cheek. She seemed to grow angrier, though she did not wipe it away. She slapped with her right glove rather than the left. Her head cracked the other way. It was then that she realised that the right glove had tiny little steel points on it. Pinpricks of pain every time she was struck.
Bester had killed, but this torture was different. The beating and wipping and worst the raping. Telepaths usually went mad when raped. He had only seen a few studies as it had not occurred often and only to very low level Telepaths, he was surprised she was functioning. He guessed that if she lived, she would be partially catatonic, and very likely unable t have normal relations. And it was so much safer when it was a genetically matched pair having normal relations then a lab creation.
He watched the methodical beating of the girl and felt a twinge of disgust. The girl could have been salvaged… But soon she would be dead. What a waste of such amazing talent. She was easily the strongest, most controlled Telekinetic he'd seen, and she seemed to have a resistance to the Sleeper drugs that kept Telepaths from using their abilities as well.
It was a waste. The glove struck again and again until the gloves print even elicited pricks of blood. He let out a soundless sigh. This one was beyond him, this time he could not divert her too a farm for rogues. She finally slumped into insensibility, then they gave her drugs. He watched the needles and stood by while she screamed and screamed as she relived the rape of three nights before. But she still didn't break.
Thanks for reading now please use special button on left and review!