Planet of Pain (2 page)

She sat down and fastened her harness. Bel didn't argue the point. Even an alpha-class scout, one of the fastest ships ever built, couldn't escape missiles launched as close as this. Jo knew it was only a matter of time. Seconds, in fact.

‘Wiping the deck,' Bel said.

She keyed in the sequence that would erase the ship's memory. She did it to stop them getting the security codes, of course, but it was the final nail in the coffin. Even if the League ships aborted their missiles, turned around and went home,
Firefly
and her crew would never leave this place. With the core memory erased there was no way they could jump out.

Goodbye, world, Jo thought. It was good while it lasted.

There was a mighty clang and Jo tingled all over, as though needle jets of icy cold water were being blasted at her body. Every system in the cabin went dead, including the lights.

‘What the hell was that?' she yelled in the sudden blackness, forgetting all about the need to stay calm.

‘Disabler round,' Bel said. ‘They're trying to take us alive.'

Fear came flooding back in, clutching at Jo's gut. They'd all heard stories about the League's treatment of prisoners. The men were carted off to slave mines where life was brutal, painful, and very short. For female prisoners it was worse – much, much worse.

She heard Bel scrabbling in the locker under her seat, and knew she was after the gun. There was another clang and then a strange smell, almost pleasant. After that there was nothing.

 

 

 

 

‘Signal from
Dauntless
, sir,' Sam said, as he squeezed into the admiral's tiny day cabin. ‘They've taken a scout ship:
Firefly
, alpha-class. No luck with the target, unfortunately.'

Talmann was all attention. This was the second such vessel to be captured within the past ten minutes, and the admiral was not a man who believed in coincidence. Though they hadn't yet located Nielsen, the game was clearly afoot.

‘And the crew?' he enquired.

He was hoping for a woman. The first ship, disappointingly, had been crewed by two men.

‘They have them in custody, sir: two females.
Dauntless
is querying if they should detach one of the escorts to bring the prisoners to you immediately.'

For a moment Talmann was tempted – the thought of new flesh to torment was an extremely appealing one – but then he shook his head. Capturing Nielsen was the main priority here. Time enough for more pleasurable pursuits when that critical task had been accomplished.

‘No,' he said. ‘All ships to remain on station. Instruct
Dauntless
to interrogate the two women. I want specifics of their mission, and a full download of their ship's computer. It's possible they're here to rendezvous with Nielsen.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Stress to Colonel Hendricks
that, important as this information is, the prisoners are to suffer no permanent damage. Once our quarry is in the bag I want the two of them brought here; and I want them alive and kicking.'

‘I understand, sir.'

The young man left, and Admiral Talmann sat back in his chair, smiling at the thought of what was in store for the two Reiver crewwomen.

 

Gradually, painfully, consciousness returned. Jo groaned. Her throat was raw, she felt sick, and she had a splitting headache to boot. Close by someone was cursing; not loudly, but with considerable feeling.

‘Shit!
Shit
! Should have listened to you, dad, shouldn't I?'

‘Captain?' Jo muttered. ‘That you?'

‘Right here,' Bel said, ‘and wishing my head would just burst and have done with it. What the hell do they
put
in that stuff, for Christ's sake?'

Jo made a supreme effort and opened her eyes, to discover she was lying face down on a mattress pad. She rolled onto her back, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to engulf her, and saw that she was in a cell – a cage, in fact – the end one in a row of five. It was just a grey steel-mesh box, empty apart from the pad she was lying on. Bel was in the middle cell, sitting on her pad with her back against the cage side, legs drawn up, forehead resting on her knees. Her post-jump recovery was always quicker than Jo's, and the same was true, it seemed, with knockout gas.

‘Where do you think we are?' Jo asked. On board a League ship, obviously, but was it the cruiser or one of the destroyers?

‘Chances are we're being monitored,' Bel muttered. ‘Don't say anything you wouldn't want them to hear.'

Jo looked around her cell, then at the room beyond. She presumed this cheerless place was the ship's brig. It was as grey and minimalist as the cells themselves, containing nothing but a steel desk and two chairs, presently unoccupied. Illumination was courtesy of a row of recessed ceiling lights. On the wall by the door was a control panel of some sort. There was no sign of a sensor or pickup that she could see, but that didn't mean anything. There could be audio, visual, and half a dozen other scans on them right now, and they wouldn't know it.

‘Like they're a bunch of turds,' Bel added out loud, lifting her head defiantly, ‘who can go screw themselves!'

Jo envied her captain's assurance. She didn't sound afraid at all, just mad, whereas Jo was so frightened she couldn't stop shaking. ‘Aren't you scared?' she asked, hearing the tremor in her own voice.

‘Listen,' Bel said, ‘whatever's going to happen will happen. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you go to pieces. You're an Alliance officer and I expect you to behave like one. When they come for us keep your chin up, your eyes and ears open, and your mouth shut. Okay, lieutenant?'

‘Yes, ma'am.'

Bel's intentions were no doubt of the best, but her words offered precious little comfort.
When they come for us
had a dreadfully ominous ring to it.

 

They didn't come right away, however, and the waiting was almost more than Jo could bear. Finally the door hissed open and five men came into the room. It was Jo's first view of the enemy – in the flesh, at least – and it wasn't an encouraging sight. Their black uniforms, unadorned apart from silver rank flashes on the collar, gave the men a grim, forbidding air. No women, of course: the Solar League didn't allow females in combat roles. With Earth's huge population to draw upon they could afford such luxuries. The New Worlds Alliance, unfortunately for Jo and Bel, couldn't.

Three of the five, Jo saw – a sergeant and two troopers – carried holstered side arms, and it was the sergeant who spoke first.

‘Officer on deck!' he barked. ‘On your feet, ladies!'

Jo looked anxiously across at Bel, who climbed slowly to her feet. Jo followed suit, feeling a little light-headed. As the after-effects of the gas had pretty well worn off now, that could only be due to fear.

The two unarmed men were officers, and one now approached the cages and looked at each of them in turn.

‘I'm Colonel Hendricks, captain of the League starship
Dauntless,
' he said. ‘And you are?'

‘Isabel Franklin,' Bel said, ‘captain; NWA-749-JA-1678.'

‘Name, rank and serial number,' Hendricks said, with a faint smile. ‘How very by-the-book, captain.'

He turned to Jo.

‘Juh… Josephine O'Donnell,' she stammered, ‘lieutenant; NWA-862-JF-5388.'

‘Very well,' he said. ‘I won't beat about the bush. I need the unlock code for your ship's computer, and I need full details of your mission. Please believe me when I say things will go a great deal easier with you if you give me this information now.'

‘We have nothing to add, colonel,' Bel said.

‘And I have my orders. Cooperate or face the consequences.'

Bel remained stubbornly silent. Hendricks looked from one to the other, and then nodded gravely. ‘Major Tucker.'

The second officer took a step forward. ‘Sir?'

‘You know what to do.'

‘Yes, sir.'

The colonel turned and went out, clearly not a happy man. Tucker came closer and regarded the two young women with a scornful, mocking gaze.

‘Sergeant Clemens,' he said, ‘unlock the cells. These two have been lounging about
far
too long. Time they took a little… exercise.'

The sergeant went to the control panel and keyed in a sequence. The cage doors swung open.

‘Out, ladies,' the sergeant said.

Tucker gave a derisive snort. ‘I see no
ladies
, sergeant, just a pair of Reiver whores.'

Reivers: the League called them that, Jo knew. Pirates. It was true that League merchantmen had been attacked and robbed in the run-up to the war, but it wasn't all one-sided. Civilian Alliance craft had suffered predation too, at the hands of League privateers. This seemed hardly the time to start arguing over who fired the first shot, however, so Jo followed Bel's example and said not a word as she stepped out of her cell. On legs that felt decidedly weak she stood facing the four men in black, trying not to tremble.

‘Strip them,' Tucker said.

‘Sir.'

The sergeant nodded to the guards, who closed in on the two women.

‘Back off, Leaguer!' Bel snarled, and the man nearest to her stopped dead in his tracks, glancing at the sergeant uncertainly. Even Jo's guard, who a moment before had been fighting to suppress a grin, hesitated. For several seconds there was silence, then Bel's hands rose and she unzipped her uniform jacket, took it off, and dropped it to the floor. She began to unbutton her shirt, and as she did so her eyes met Jo's; and the message was unmistakable, so with hands that shook and seemed to belong to someone else, Jo began to undress too.

 

The bra was bad enough, but she hit a major problem with her panties, her last line of defence, as it were. Try as she might she simply couldn't take them off. She genuinely
wanted
to; she wished more than anything she could be like Bel, standing there naked and defiant, seemingly oblivious to the men's eyes all over her. But Jo's hands were refusing to obey her, and Major Tucker, it was clear, was rapidly running out of patience.

‘Well?' he snapped. ‘Do we get to see it sometime this
century
, O'Donnell?'

Jo winced, and tried again. And failed – again. So the guard beside her took matters into his own hands, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties and ripping them off, almost pulling her off her feet in the process.

‘Thank you, trooper,' Tucker said, with a heavy, theatrical sigh.

‘My pleasure, sir.'

The major now turned his attention to Bel. He proceeded to walk slowly around her, scrutinising her intently as if she were a squaddie on parade and he the inspecting officer. Bel, too, played her unwitting part, standing to attention and staring straight ahead, her face a rigid mask.

‘You've searched them, I take it?' Tucker said.

‘Yes, sir,' the sergeant replied. ‘Full body scan soon as we got them aboard. No weapons, no electronics, no suicide pills.'

Tucker nodded. He stopped behind Bel and lifted her hair, letting it fall through his fingers. Bel's chestnut brown hair, unusually for a pilot, was long. Most of the other women in the squadron wore theirs close-cropped for convenience – fewer hassles with flight helmets and so forth.

The major moved around in front of her and looked her up and down. He nodded as though impressed, which was hardly surprising. Bel possessed the sort of figure that had men drooling: all spectacular curves and creamy-smooth skin. ‘Clasp your hands behind your head,' he said. Bel complied, and the major cupped her breasts, bouncing them in his hands as if judging their weight.

‘What do you think of the tits, sergeant?' he asked.

‘Pretty goddam fine, sir,' came the reply.

‘Lord, no… they're
far
too big,' Tucker declared. ‘She reminds me of a cow ready for milking.'

One of the troopers laughed. Bel failed to react either to the insult or the groping, but simply stared past the League officer's shoulder at the blank wall.

‘Each to his own, sir,' the sergeant said.

Major Tucker relinquished Bel's breasts, his hand moving instead to her groin. He caressed her, his middle finger stroking up and down her slit. Jo was sure he would penetrate her, but he refrained. Was there a spark of decency in him after all? Probably not, she thought bitterly. It was more likely he was merely savouring the moment; making Bel wait for the inevitable whilst heightening his own anticipation.

He kept this up for a couple of minutes, then took hold of her pubic hair and tugged upwards, forcing her up onto her toes. He kept her there, a faint smile on his lips, till her legs began to quiver with the strain of holding the position. Finally he released her, and turned to Jo.