Chapter Six

The pain in her wrists and shoulders was the only thing strong enough to pierce the darkness in her mind. Her arms were stretched above her head and her feet dangled loosely below her. From the amount and quality of the pain, it quickly became obvious she was strung up by the cord wrapped tightly around her wrists, dangling over some treacherous pit, no doubt. Eyes firmly shut she tried to lift her head from her chest and found the task impossible. She took a deep breath, trying to silence the voice in her head that kept screaming, 'What the hell is going on?'

'All right, all right. Calm down and think, girl. Think!' She moved her feet and felt them swing effortlessly, coming in contact with nothing but air. With great effort she tentatively opened one eye. The light was either dim, or she was reeling from a concussion because she could only see as far as the toe of her boot. 'Uh… crap,' she groaned, the pain shooting down her arms and across her shoulders.

'All right, what the hell happened?' She succeeded in lifting her head, forcing herself to open both eyes. Searching her memory she tried to place the reason for her present situation. She remembered running from O'Connell and the forced landing on this damn planet. She had a glimpse of the town, the tavern and then eating some stew before making her way to her room. It all seemed a bit fuzzy at first, but then with a jarring suddenness she remembered a cloth pressed against her nose and mouth, hands dragging her down, and then nothing.

"Wonderful," she muttered. Using what limited strength and movement she had, she scanned the room. The dim light revealed little. The room was circular, holding only one obvious entrance located on the wall above her. A stone staircase began at the door and led down to the floor below her. If she moved her feet in a circular motion she could slowly rotate her body to see the entire room. Though the floor was cloaked in darkness, she could just make out the top of a table on one side. The table appeared to be covered with shiny instruments that Ashe decided not to dwell on. The only source of light was a single fixture near the door.

'What the hell is going on?' she stopped her circular motion and allowed the rope that held her to slowly rotate her back to her starting position. 'Slavers?' she pondered. Yet this seemed much too elaborate. Slavers would simply have tossed her unconscious body onto a ship and she'd be in transport by now. Hostage? Again not likely. No one knew her on this planet, she had no value! She was a woman, so prostitution seemed a motive, but again the position she found herself in strongly suggested torture. From the feeling that was returning to her bones she assumed it was torture yet to come.

She glanced at each thigh, not surprised to find her pulse lasers gone. She still had her boots on though, if she could lift her torso high enough, she might be able to activate the hidden knife in the toe of her boot, maybe cut the rope. Focusing all her strength on her midriff she tried to lift her legs up. She had pulled them almost to her waist, when she started to pass out. 'Crap,' she moaned as her head bobbed back to her chest, still reeling from whatever it was they had given her.

The scraping sound above her head could only mean one thing. The door to the room had opened, and someone was coming. She tensed, but tried to appear as if she was still passed out. If the guard was careless, if there weren't any camera's in here, if the floor wasn't too far away and if he came close enough, she might be able to wrap her legs around his neck and throttle the man.

'That's a lot of if's, girl,' she thought despondently. The scraping of footsteps on stone suddenly ended. She could hear the man breathing in the darkness. Trying to maintain the illusion of unconsciousness was difficult when she could sense he stood no more than fifteen feet away, staring at her. The sound of his breathing was almost deafening in the silent room.

He cleared his throat before he said, "Lights."

She flinched as the brightness assailed her eye lids.

"My, my," the distinctly male voice caressed her, "you are even more beautiful than my men described." There was a slight pause then he added, "How fortunate for me."

Ashe could hear the education in the speech, the arrogance in his tone. Even if she were not suspended in mid-air in what could only be described as his dungeon, waiting to be tortured, Ashe knew she would hate this man. She decided to give up the unconscious ruse, he wasn't buying it anyway. Lifting her head she slowly opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. Keeping her expression blank, she took in his appearance. Fine leather boots, dark wine colored silken trousers that neatly outlined his pride and joy, white silken shirt open at the collar, brown hair cascading across his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were piercing, intelligent and hungry. He had a day's growth of stubble on his face that she knew was affectation. It didn't matter. The man was gorgeous, and he knew how to play every taught, tanned muscle in his body. Even the quirky little lift to his mouth that made him appear to be at once both pleasantly amused and intensely sensual. What frightened her most though, was the intelligence in his eyes.

He made a tsk tsk sound which irritated the hell out of her. "You hanging here will simply not do." He turned from her and crossed the room to the table. She saw his fingers move across something, perhaps a panel? Then suddenly she was being lowered to the floor. When her feet hit solid ground she groaned with relief as her body weight came off her shoulders and wrists. Then her feet went out from under her and she slide to the floor.

She lay there in a crouched position, her blonde hair covering her face. Ashe knew she would only have one chance to lunge, while he thought she was incapacitated. She gathered her strength and decided a slight whimper might be the only way to get him close enough to her so that she would have enough loose rope to maneuver.

She tightened her muscles, preparing to spring, allowing a soft moan to escape her lips.

"Hmmm," he purred like a hungry animal, "what a lovely sound. Though," he began to chuckle under his breathe, "you may want to stand. The confinement field will reach a height of five feet in ten seconds. I suggest you don't find yourself below that mark. I am so very much looking forward to speaking with you."

Ashe growled. Confinement field? Crap! She quickly gathered her strength, already feeling the increased gravity pulling on her feet. Roiling with anger she pushed herself into a standing position as she felt the additional gravity pull on her feet, her legs, then her arms as they lay, still tied, against her belly. The density of the air increased until all movement below her shoulders was impossible. The only part of her she could move was her head, as it was past the edge of the field. It also left her able to speak.

"There now, pet. Was that so difficult?" His grin was salacious as he lounged against the table, watching her.

She kept her face expressionless, waiting.

He took his time, working his way up her body with his eyes. He held something in his hand, she couldn't tell what it was, but it was about a half meter long, cylindrical and he kept tapping himself on the cheek with it as he gazed at her. "Where to start? Where to start… hmmm…" He moved toward her, graceful, sensual, coming to a stop less than a foot from her.

His proximity to her and his continued movement amazed her. 'The gravity field has to be very tight. Damn good technology,' she admitted grudgingly.

The smile he offered her was filled with both fire and ice. "I know you are angry with me. Which makes this… well, only slightly more difficult. However, I find myself wishing we had met under different circumstances. That your, how shall I say, association with that leather bound cretin hadn't forced me to accelerate things."

Ashe kept her expression blank but her mind was reeling. O'Connell? Did this have something to do with O'Connell? What the hell had he gotten her into now? And what things was he talking about?

"So I will begin with an apology. I am truly sorry," he said as he pointed to her feet with the short staff he held, "for this. I would have preferred to convince you to dine with me. Served you the best I have to offer. Dishes to tempt your palette and wines to dazzle your senses. I would have taken the time to seduce you properly." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I would have reveled in every moment in your exquisite company," his voice was warm and dark, like chocolate. His breathe was hot against her skin and sent shivers down her neck. She found herself staring forward, forcing herself to not pull away.

"However," he said as he leaned back again and she returned her gaze to his face, "your association with the barbarian complicates things. If he is your protector, as it appears, then I admit he is not without skills and must therefore be eliminated."

Anger caused her to respond. "Protector? Ha!" She tried to gesture with her hands and was reminded of her complete paralyzation, opting instead to growl in frustration.

A languid, eager smile crossed his lips at her response. He bowed his head to her, his eyes never leaving her face. "I apologize, my lady. I assume too much."

She immediately regretted her outburst. No response at all would have been more dignified. But, as she has already blown dignified, she decided to throw caution to the wind.

"What do you want?" Directness was her favorite approach when it came to business. As he obviously wanted her alive and he thought she was valuable enough to have a protector, then this was no slavery heist. Ransom maybe? Perhaps he thought she had titular value? No… this wasn't an arbitrary assault. This was business.

He grinned. "That is a difficult question to answer. You see I know so much about you already. And yet, I need to understand so much more…"

When her eyes narrowed as if to contest his lie, he laughed. "All right. Let's see. You arrived separately from your… sorry, the leather bound goon. You entered the town and immediately befriended the locals. You then set up a perimeter which I can only assume was to avoid contact with," he shook his head as if trying to find the right word, "the barbarian. You took a moment to shop, and then relaxed at T'afrins. Fed a local ruffian. Then enjoyed a passable meal yourself." He paced as he spoke, each step allowing his silken clothing to shimmer in the light, accentuating his taught body. Ashe new he was aware of the effect.

"As I have been so far unsuccessful in locating your ship, this suggests technology superior to my own." He turned towards her, his hands open, his expression appealing. "All of this is interesting, however I believe you asked me what I want. At this moment, what I want is to know more. I find myself wanting to trust you. I find myself believing that that cleverness, that intellect I see in your eyes might just be a twin to my own." He began to circle her, never touching her. Still, she could feel his gaze all over her body. He stopped and from behind, whispered in her ear, his tone almost pleading, "I want you to get to know me, understand me, and then perhaps you will help me acquire what I need."

'Help him?' Ashe thought, 'What the hell is he talking about?'

He continued forward until he stood directly in front of her. His voice was contemplative when he spoke. "So many men use pain to motivate."

Ashe felt the blood rush from her face.

He sighed dramatically. "Such a waste I feel. Pain is… counterproductive. I want us to be friends," he practically cooed and the smile he gave her was filled with confidence and hunger, as if her cooperation was a forgone conclusion and his anticipation of it almost unbearable. He leaned forward and whispered against her cheek, "Very, very good friends."

She began to feel annoyed, which brought some of the color back to her face. 'Just fraggin' do something already!' she thought, this time however she said nothing.

"First an introduction," as he spoke he breached the slight distance between them with his hand. She could feel the short staff he held press against her right thigh but could not move to push him away. She also noted that he seemed impervious to the dampening field. This suggested he had a disruptor somewhere on his body, if only she could figure out what or where, and take it. "My name is Marcus K'rier."

Ashe sucked in her breath as she felt a tingle of heat and vibration touch her skin. It was not altogether unpleasant. She glanced down and could just make out the staff he held move a little higher on her thigh.

"I am a Privateer… of sorts." He bowed his head for a moment. "A successful businessman, with holdings on and off-world. A traveler, an investor, and a bit of an archeologist. A man of some means." He smiled at her, that arrogant, knowing smile, his eyes caressing her. Then suddenly she felt it again. That same burst of heat and vibration and tingling; like a thousand small volts cursing along her skin. She gulped in a breath.

His grin deepened, if possible his eyes grew even darker. "I don't say this to impress you. I can tell wealth alone would not be the means to accomplish that. I simply wish you to know everything there is to know about me." The staff rose higher, tracing a path of sparks and pleasure along her arm. "I so desperately want you to understand me." The staff reached her upper arm and he grabbed both ends and pressed it across her chest. The staff continued to emit small blue pulses that raced across her skin like lightening. Even through the leather she wore she could feel her body responding to the sensations. Her breathing quickened.

Marcus stepped toward her, leaning against the staff, its width and her bound hands the only things separating them now. He caused it to pulse, slowly, like a patient lover wanting to bring her body to its peak of excitement.

"Tell me your name," he whispered in a voice like honey and dark wine.

Ashe fought the urge to respond. Her body was screaming at her, pulsing with desire in time with the rod, aching for release. Marcus leaned in as if to kiss her and she turned her head violently to the side. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done; refuse him, while her entire body was screaming at her to respond.

"What harm is in a name, my beauty?" He leaned in and began to nibble the side of her throat working his way up toward her chin and her mouth. With each bite he sparked the staff until she was gasping. She made a defiant, growling sound. She had lost the ability to form words.

He paused, his lips playing with the corner of her mouth. "So defiant. So strong. I will call you Digladior. It means 'fierce one' on this world. Will this please you?" As she turned her head, fully intent on telling him to shove it, he dropped the staff lower. He held it between them; it connected their bodies in the most intimate manner. She could feel her eyes grow wide in fear, as his chocolate brown ones caught and held hers. His pupils were dilated, his gaze barely able to lift from her mouth.

"All is want to do is pleasure you," he whispered against her lips. Then he sparked the staff, an intense burst that sent her reeling as he caught her mouth with his own. He kissed her passionately, sensually, pulsing the staff in time with his mouth and tongue. She tried to remain stoic but she found herself responding with increasing vigor with every pulse of the staff.

'Crapohcrapohcrapohgod….' was all she could think. She moaned, for one second glad of the stupid dampening field as she was sure her legs would no longer hold her.

Ashe never even heard the sound that distracted him. She only felt him pull away from her, heard his curse. Turning her head away from him she tried to gasp for breath, tried to calm the beating of her heart.

He crossed to the table and hit something on it violently. "What?" he yelled.

She couldn't hear the response to his question, only saw his shoulders slump and watch as he nodded his head. "Yes, yes fine. I will be there shortly. No! You idiot! See her into the library. Wait with her there. Do not leave her side. Do you hear me?"

He reached out and hit something again. Then ran his hand through his brown hair and sighing, straightened his shoulders and turned to her. "I am sorry, Digladior," he said the name with a caress. "Tonight is no longer ours."

She could feel her senses returning and she tried to pull away from him. She ached for the freedom to kick him in the groin. The way his silken trousers fell, it was obvious that it would hurt a great deal.

His eyes scanned her body again, lingering on her lips and he growled softly, impatiently. "When I return we will finish… getting to know one another and you will perhaps tell me where it is?"

Ashe couldn't help the look of confusion that crossed her face.

"For now," he murmured sensually, "I will not leave you so unsatisfied." In one quick movement he crossed the space between then, captured her lips with his and shoving the staff against her thighs, pulsed it to an intensity that made her eyes roll back in her head. A deep moan escaped her lips and she could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he whispered in her ear. "Sleep now, my beauty. Sleep until I return." She could feel his lips on hers again and then the darkness enveloped her.