Chapter Four

Liberty, work-out room

Deep down in the ship's belly Kenzy had discovered a work-out room completely with a self-repairing dummy, treat mills and everything a pilot's mind desired. Shortly after the encounter with Mallan she decided that it she had worked up enough frustration to give the dummy a really thorough beating-up. After warming-up and doing some stretching she began with punches, went over to some kicks and finally got in the flow of motions. Her concentration on the dummy had been built up so high she didn't notice someone else coming in the room and watching her for quite a time. When she stopped to take a short break and drink a little, the someone finally said: "Quite impressive, Lieutenant. For a woman, that is." Slowly she turned around just to see a mocking grin spreading over Blenwell's face. "Say that again, Flight Officer." He snorted. "And get a kick in the ass from you? No way."

"You afraid of me, Flight Officer?" She rolled her head and fastened the strips on her hands. He threw away the towel he had brought with him and put away the water bottle he had been carrying. "Care for a little spar?" Now what was she waiting for? This was her chance to show this boy what stuff army women were made of. So she nodded. "I could use a little hand to hand combat practice." He just grinned and took his stance. So did she. When they were both settled they began circling each other, waiting for their respective opponent to strike.

With all her senses alert and in full combat mode Kenzy observed her opponent, searching for even the smallest sign telling her he'd strike. And luck was with her. She could see him shifting his weight a little and twitch his fingers oh so slightly and only microseconds later he aimed a kick at her head. Quick as an eel she dodged and lunged her right leg at his left foot. She draw away the foot but he quickly could regain his balance and now tried a punch with his right. Using the speed and his way as he was coming towards her she grabbed his arm and flung him down to the ground. Realizing he was very close to losing he switched to desperate measures. He grabbed her ankle to bring her down beside him but she did an almost too quick to notice and was suddenly sitting on top of him. She crossed her arms over his throat and let only so much place that he could barely breath. Her face only centimeters from his away she said in a very low, dangerous sounding voice: "Hand-to-hand combat rule number one: Never underestimate your opponent." Then she got up and offered him a hand. Idiot or not, she had been taught to be always fair in training exercises. But instead of taking it and just getting up, he grabbed it and – with a quick and surprisingly fluent move of his legs – pulled her legs away from under her body. With a thud she fell down beside him and for some moments only their heavy breathing could be heard. "Hand-to-hand combat rule number two: Never trust an opponent on the ground.", he finally managed to say. Her only answer was a snort.

After some more moments they both got up. While drinking they both shared an odd mutual silence and Marten got a completely new view of her body. He had to admit that the tight fitting top and legging she was wearing were doing a lot more for her appearance than her normal standard uniform or pressure suit. The sparse white light from the ceiling made her body shimmer with reflexes and let one half of her face lie in the shadows. When you don't see the scar it's actually not all that unattractive anymore… he mused and instantly reprimanded himself. Remember you're not into rancors.

She ran a hand through her tousled and sweat drenched hair and rubbed her face with the towel. Saron didn't miss Blenwell sizing her up in a matter she despised ever since her days at the slave trader's. "Don't you have something else to do than standing here and drooling over me?" Again that nasty look he seemed to have reserved only for her. "Whoever said I was?" Instead of answering she turned around, almost ready for another round of dummy-beating. Or Blenwell-beating, that is. But no, she wouldn't let herself be provoked this time. Unfortunately she could feel his eyes on her body again. If he would just stop it. I bet he's doing this because he full well knows how it's irritating me. Without saying another word, she took her things and headed towards the exit. Just before leaving she eventually found a way to annoy him just as much as he had annoyed her. She turned around and said: "Oh, and I want your report on the data analysis I sent you in two hours, XO." Then she was out of the room.

Predator, brig

Kesra awoke from unpleasant and almost feverish dreams when the door of her prison opened and the storm troopers threw in a lifeless Kat Deira. The woman landed on the ground with a loud thud and laid there motionless. From what Kesra could see from her position she was breathing and her face, although thin and emaciated, seemed quite flawless apart from some minor cuts and bruises. She wondered what they had done to her. Cayr must have noticed he wondering and answered her question. "Don't think she was like this when they were finished with her. They use a nice little tactic here. After having completed another round of torture they send us to sick bay where we're not healed but only made fit for the next round. Our technician there is under sedatives. She'll wake up in approximately one hour, I think."

Kesra narrowed her eyes a bit. "How come you always seem to know what time it is in here?" This was the first full sentence she had said since she was in here. It earned her an upraised eyebrow by Cayr. "They may have taken my digital chrono but they can't take away my biological one. Believe me, after some training you can fully rely on it. You should try it. Gives you something else to think about then what's still to come for you." If she just wouldn't speak in riddles all the time… Kesra thought and concentrated again on the still form of Kat Deira lying on the ground. She didn't seem to interest any other woman in the room but Kesra who was drilled to help any comrade in any situation got up and walked to the woman. This time her action earned her a snort from Cayr. "Why help her, kid?" This woman surely was annoying her more with every word. "Because she is a fellow rebel! She helped to maintain the fighters! Her people are the backbone of our movement!"

"Yeah, sure… do you believe every word they drill into you? You have to learn so much more, kid…"

"But not from you, you cynical…" Cayr just raised an eyebrow. "You… you have completely detached yourself from any feeling. You may think that this is the best way to cope with this all but in reality you are the first one where the Empire succeeded. You have let yourself being turned into a heartless bitch that could be an Imperial officer as well." By now not only Cayr's gaze was lying on her but the other's as well suddenly took some interest in her. Kesra felt very uneasy. "Believe it or not, I'm the only one who's gonna make it out of here alive."

"Yes, because you let the other ones die because you think they are weak, don't you?" Cayr was silent, not even her eyes moved. Satisfied that she had finally landed a blow on the indestructible Kesra raised her chin defiantly. Then, slowly the other woman said: "You may think that this is cynical and heartless but the truth is: It's the only way to go. Just look at the others…" Kesra did and she saw pain, sorrow and fear in their eyes, if there was anything left at all. She considered everything she and Cayr had exchanged and then said: "Not, it's not. We can only make it out of here if we work together…" A glare from Cayr silenced her. Then the woman mouthed something. Kesra's ears were the ears of a huntress and she understood the word "surveillance". And then realization dawned on her. Maybe that had made plans to escape but because of the observance they were all discovered and surely the women had been punished for this. No wonder they were all passive like this. She looked around again and mumbled only: "I see."

And then something very surprising happened. H'sishi Istr, the Ishi Tip councilor, lifted her head and spoke in a low raspy voice: "The young one is right, Flight Officer. We should hold together. This is what makes us strong. And we need strength, even you." Her large eyes traveled back and forth between Cayr and Kesra. The first one to answer her was not one of the both but Lance Corporal Mijiyo Anasu, a small, almost petite, woman with oblique eyes and short cropped opaque shimmering black hair. "The Ishi Tip's got a point, Cayr. If we want to make it out here alive we have to help each other. You don't have to befriend us if you don't think us worthy enough but you need our help. Before… before the ambush I had a Captain who was a bit like you… a loner, sometimes a cynic, but she always stood up for us, helped us where we needed it…"

"And why wasn't she there when you were ambushed, huh?"

This time it was the Lieutenant from control who answered Cayr. "You're still missing the point. Stop being selfish and forbidding yourself any feeling. We may be only few and we may have no weapons, no support, no contact to our troops, no whatsoever but we have us…" At the same moment a groan interrupted their discussion. The bundle that was Kat Deira stirred and tried to sit up. Kesra crouched down and helped her. When she had adjusted her eyes to the room's light she looked at Kesra and made a sound that was half sob, half wail. Then she collapsed into Kesra's arms. Confused Kesra engulfed her and held her while the other woman seemed to cry out her soul. Now, Ganna Dsa'Osra, a feline-like looking Cath, came towards her with elegant strides and crouched down. Her fur-covered hands glided over Deira's back an her words came out like in a purr. "Do not worry. We will help you. You are not alone." Cayr, in the back of the room, just snorted, but Kesra had the feeling that it was just out of habit, not out of real contempt.

Liberty, briefing room

"So you think, someone in this battle group likes female prisoners?" Kenzy nodded. "Well, I never thought I'd say this but you obviously are cleverer than you look. Or have someone who is able to read my notes to you." Blenwell expressed his scorn in one of his nasty looks but didn't say anything. "You have a suspicion already?" She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "Well, I made some check-ups and the like and the only one with enough power to select the prisoners and their location is Admiral Arvin Chesfer, commander of the battle group. His HQ is on board the VSD Predator. I looked up his profile and it corresponded to what I was expecting. Unusually "efficient" in "interviewing" prisoners, which means that he knows an enormous amount of torturing methods and so on. In the records I found they stated that he uses the standard technique to sew victims together after each torture so they can be tortured and questioned quite literally forever."

"Barbaric.", was the only word Blenwell had to offer. She nodded and leaned back, rolling her head from left to right and massaging her neck. "Yeah, right. So… what do we do about this?"

"I thought this was your job, oh fierce and mighty leader." She propped her feet up on the rail in the briefing room. "May I remind you that an XO has the duty to help and support his CO by and with any means and is responsible for the well-being and comfort of his CO?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you flirting, Lieutenant?" As an answer she moved further away from him and said: "Are you day-dreaming, Flight Officer?" To her surprise he moved after her until he was mere millimeters away from her. "I think not, Lieutenant." Overwhelmed with his boldness and impertinence she was speechless, just starred at him. Then she suddenly jumped up. "I think we should end this meeting now. Don't call me until I give you the permission. And don't get in my way for the same amount of time." Then she just turned around and stormed out of the room. Blenwell just laid back and let out a dramatic sigh.