Chapter Five
Doctor Mengele
Commander Charles Tucker III strode into Engineering like a King entering his throne room. He was in a very good mood indeed, made so by the relief of tensions by dealing with the young Auran slave. Of all the slaves aboard, she was the most beauteous and he felt quite possessive of her, having been the one who had found her on that wrecked space ship. And it felt good to occasionally exercise that possession.
He sometimes wished, however, that she would put up a bit more resistance, but they'd trained that out of her months ago. In her first weeks Anlor had been a firebrand and raping her had been a challenge, these days it's hardly an effort, not that he ever intends to relent. She's only a slave, after all.
His slave.
Then again, he gets enough reluctance out of Terran women. It felt good sometimes to have a woman who didn't give him any trouble, but who knew her place and how to stay there. And on the days she worked up the never to forget, it was a pleasure to put her back.
As he's told Malcolm Reed more than once, he loved it when a woman begged.
x
Now he stopped just inside the door to his domain, looking about, his sharp eyes noting everything from the brisk efficiency of his crew to the gleam of the instrumentation. He had no doubt the former was a recent improvement – they probably hyped up the moment the doors had started to open – but a quick check of the latter would spot it out. All his 'subjects' had stopped and saluted as he entered before returning to their work. Now he would see if their assiduity was real or sham.
He strode over to the first readouts, checking them carefully. Beside him, the ensign assigned to the night shift grew cautiously still. Tucker looked from the board to the man and back again, not happy with what he found in either. He looked at the man again, his eyes probing discerningly. If possible, the ensign grew even tenser as Tucker stared.
He entertained the thought of screaming 'Boo'; imagining the younger man shrieking and dashing through the door - possibly without opening it.
x
Instead, after a few moments, he turned and went on to the next set of controls. Behind him, the ensign didn't dare relax. He knew that if the Commander turned and caught him….
Tucker continued his tour of inspection, a tour made even more disconcerting for its silence. Normally he was not reticent in his criticism, so to be quiet now was particularly unnerving to the men and women surrounding him. No one knew how to prepare for the first thing he said.
Actually, Tucker was concentrating on holding on to his good mood for as long as possible, concentrating on the memory of the young woman writhing helplessly under him, begging for mercy he'd never consider, but the satisfied feeling he had been enjoying before he'd entered was fading rapidly as it became clear that the efficient hype he'd observed was sham indeed.
x
At each station he inspected he left behind a feeling of mounting unease, which grew as he kept his thoughts to himself. Finally, satisfied he had seen everything there was to see, he walked over to Lt. Sam Domar, who led the night shift. He came right up to the man, closer, closer still, until they were practically chest to chest and nose to nose.
"Ninety two point seven?" His shout echoed through the room, causing everyone within to want to dive for cover. Domar didn't flinch, though his hair did seem to want to leap off his head and run. "When I went off we were at ninety four. What in Hell have you been doing all night?"
Actually this was an exaggeration and a lie; they had been at ninety one point eight percent just sixteen hours before, but Domar was neither stupid enough nor suicidal enough to call him on it.
"Sorry, sir! We'll do better, sir!"
"Damn right you will." He took a step back from Domar's nose so he could address the entire room. "You'll all remain on duty until I'm satisfied with your work. Who knows, maybe Alpha crew can teach you people something about being Engineers."
xxx
"She's not usually this late, even under the worst conditions," gray clad Kaspar observed, scanning E-deck not only with her eyes but her considerably more sensitive Andorian antennae as the two slaves backtracked their friend's usual path.
"There's her cart," Martek said. The El-Aurian man pointed down the curving corridor as the large wagon came into sight. "It's in front of the Captain's quarters."
"This does not look good."
"What does?" he asked dismally, the wave of his hand taking in the entire vessel and their lives aboard it. El-Aurians and Andorians fared as poorly as most other non-Terran races, at least those races that had survived the initial contacts, having something that the Imperials wanted or considered useful.
As they approached, while they were still more than twenty meters off, they saw the Captain's door open and Tia crawl out.
"Not this!" Kaspar exclaimed, answering his question. They hurried forward as Tia crawled to the cart, reaching up to it. But even as she reached the handle her strength gave out and she collapsed, face down, on the deck. Reaching her, the slaves were distressed by the sight of the trail of golden blood trailing from the now-closed door.
"What happened to her?" Martek asked.
"I doubt you want to know." Kaspar replied, feeling her morning meal threaten a bitter return. She forced it down, knelt and forced herself to turn Tia over, finding her covered with bruises, blood on her legs, face and torso. The most horrific aspect was the golden blood covering her crotch and upper thighs. She was no longer bleeding, but the wound... Kaspar didn't want to look.
The El-Aurian man carefully picked her up, her bloody gray 'dress' hanging off, while the Andorian woman surveyed the still quarter full cart, only half the dinners having been served to Gamma Shift. "I'll take care of her, get her to the Doctor," Martek told her.
"I'll take care of delivering… this," Kaspar said reluctantly, covering the young woman's body with the hanging garment.
"Will you be all right?" he asked.
They look from the cart to Tia, laying motionless and bleeding in Martek's arms. "Probably not," Kaspar admitted, "but I can take care of myself. At least better than she can."
xxx
Phlox, the Denobulan physician assigned to Enterprise by the Empire, glanced up from his work as his 'assistant', if that word could be used to dignify a slave, entered. Elizabeth Cutler had reportedly been captured some months ago on a Centauri ship, and since she had some skill as a Medic, she had been assigned to him. Cutler had been serving aboard the Cruiser which had made the mistake of trying to outrun Enterprise when the Terrans tried to board and inspect her for contraband. At least this was what little he knew about her, or even cared to know. The history and concerns of a slave were none of his. His main concern was in keeping the Terran crew healthy. He was loyal to the Empire, the rest were superfluous.
He didn't mind her presence; however. She was a comely wench, Terran by nature if not by law or actuality, with light brown hair and an expression that spoke of openness. Though unfortunately not endowed with the open sensuality or free sexuality of a Denobulan woman, she was still pleasant to look at. A little short for his taste, but he'd found that short women had their pleasurable uses. Perhaps he would find out how Elizabeth Cutler fared in that regard. Perhaps soon?
She wore, as always, the drab gray garment of a slave. Though it was suitably short as it was for all the women, and sleeveless, it showed no imagination or appeal. Perhaps he would talk to the Captain about assigning garments with some aesthetic appeal, or at least less coverage like the two piece material Terran women wore.
x
"What are you doing?" she asked, indicating the corpse on the table before him. It was a Rigelian whose chest cavity had been opened wide, tacked open, and Phlox was busily probing about in the man's interior. He didn't bother answering, the dark man had no love of expressing the blatantly obvious. "Isn't he from the Rigelian ship we engaged last week? I thought the cause of death was obvious. The MACOs shot him."
"This isn't an autopsy. I had a few cadavers brought aboard. I'm just doing some recreational exploration."
Cutler carefully hid her thoughts about the Doctor's 'recreation'. It didn't do well to annoy the black clad alien, she never knew when she would have need of his 'services'. Though, the truth be told, she'd probably prefer to bleed to death before she let him get his hands on her.
In fact, considering the occasional look in his eyes when he looked at her, there were many levels indeed in which she didn't want him touching her.
In addition to a cold callousness toward those in his care, he had a tendency to go off on tangents whenever the mood to do some experimentation took him. She had no desire to become one of his experimental subjects. She doubted she could live with the result, nor did she want to know what he would do with her body after she was dead.
However, she did have to admit that she understood him. More than a love of experimentation, he had a real disregard for the comfort of his patients, and was as ready to kill as heal, depending upon his orders. He would heal his crew mates, if directed, but he had no consideration for those who ran afoul of the Empire.
Fortunately, their conversation, such as it was, was interrupted by the opening of the double doors. When they turned, they saw an El-Aurian male slave carrying an Auran. Elizabeth gasped, seeing the blood dripping from under her young companion slave.
x
Phlox would have turned them away, having little time for the concerns of slaves, especially such a chronic victim as the Auran who he had to patch up more times than he cared to consider, except for the trail of blood leading up to his door and dripping onto his floor. "Put her on the table," he directed ungraciously. 'Here we go again,' he thought, not bothering to mask his irritation. 'What trouble has she gotten herself into this time?'
Martek placed Tia on the bio-table and immediately the sensor panel over her head lit up, displaying readings that calibrated themselves instantly to the pre-programmed parameters of Auran physiology. Phlox pushed aside the remnants of the dress, noting the volume of golden blood upon it. Tia was barely conscious, seemingly unaware of where she was.
"We found her outside the Captain's quarters." Martek explained, cautiously seeming to speak to Phlox when in reality he was addressing Cutler. He doubted the Denobulan would even care, but at least the woman was a fellow sufferer of the Terran misery and would do what she could.
"Seems someone didn't care for their breakfast," Phlox remarked as he probed the intimate wound. Tia stiffened, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Phlox, looking up at Tia, addressed her with a small smile. "You really must choose something less sharp for your entertainment."
Cutler, brushing her brown hair back so she could help with Tia, looked at him in sharp outrage. "Doctor!"
"All right." The black clad Denobulan responded ungraciously. He reached down to either side of the table, selecting two straps which he positioned over Tia's hips, securing her to the table. "You," he directed the El-Aurian slave, whose name he didn't even know, "grab her knees and hold her wide, give me room to work." Reluctantly, the man obeyed, spreading Tia's thighs, wanting to be gentle but knowing there was no way to make the situation any better for his suffering friend. He winced as he saw the damage Hoshi's knife had done before Phlox's body blocked the horrible view.
As Phlox probed with his instruments, spreading her, Tia writhed in agony, trying not to cry out past her clamping hand but the pain breaking through her clamped mouth. "Not too bad. Deep, but reparable." The young woman cried out though her hand, unable to keep silent as he spread her further, looking within. She flung her arms about Cutler's hips, pulling her close, burying her face against the woman's hip as she wept. Elizabeth allowed herself to be clung to, knowing nothing more could be done to ease the young woman's torment.
"Doctor!" Elizabeth demanded Phlox's attention. He looked up at her with a 'what are you bothering me now for?' expression. "Anesthetize her!"
Phlox gave her a look as if to say 'why would I want to do that?' "She's consumed quite enough of this ship's medical resources. Always showing up here every few days…."
"At least give her a sedative. Something for the pain!"
"Nonsense. Perhaps this will give her an incentive to keep out of trouble." The Denobulan dismissed, picking up a long silver implement. "At any rate, I'll only need about twenty minutes or so."
As he started to work Tia, unable to fight Martek's strength, clung to Elizabeth, buried her face in the woman's hip and shrieked.