Renegades Part 2
"Hello, perhaps you can help me. I’m looking for information," Marcus
stepped up beside a rather well-dressed man. Since he was in a somewhat
dingy bar, it was obvious that he either dealt with information, or weaponry.
"I’m pretty pricy. I only deal with the really good stuff. You
might want to talk with him," the dealer pointed towards another man sitting
alone in a corner booth.
"I’m willing to pay quite well. I’m here to talk to you," Marcus’
voice was firm as he spoke. He played with a small credit chit as he spoke,
throwing it up, and catching it sharply when he finished.
"Well then come with me," the light-haired dealer led him into a room
in the back of the bar.
"Thank you."
As they sat down the dealer pulled out a small hand held viewer, and
placed Marcus’ credit chit in it before speaking. "Good, now what do you want
to know?"
"I’m looking for a very good friend of mine. She disappeared
yesterday."
"A lady friend?"
"No, though I wish she was. We are just very good friends."
"Where did she disappear from?"
"Babylon 5."
"I’ve heard of this, incident. The renegade, yeah. Don’t worry as
long as she tells them what they want to know she’ll be fine. They won’t
touch her unless she gets on their bad side."
"She *will* remain silent. I guarantee that, and getting on their
bad side, for her that’s quite easy. There is a reason they call her the
‘iron lady’ you know. Now where is she?"
"It’ll cost."
"I’ll give you half of that. Tell me who it is, and why they have
her, and you might even get a little more."
"You’ll find her on a small gray planetoid in Sector twenty-nine.
It’s part of a binary star system, and is near to another star system with
five planets, one of which is a gas giant. She’s in a small base, not known
to many so security there isn’t too tight unless they know that someone is
there."
"Thank you. Now who has her, and why?"
"His name is Peter Jones. He used to be one of Clark’s right hand
men. Your friend is a renegade, she’s in for conspiracy, and insubordination.
Clark wants to know what her boss is planning. He’s too well guarded for
them to catch, so they had to settle for his second."
"Is there anything else you know about this?" Marcus questioned,
starting to worry about her even more. He fallen in love with her shortly
after they had met. It hadn’t been hard, she was his ideal mate. So
independent, strong-willed, and full life, yet under her rugged exterior she
was tender, and passionate. He loved all of her, he could see the beauty
which lied in her heart and wanted to claim it as his own, and now unless he
found her they might never get the chance to be together.
"The man who transported her to Jones is known for the way he treats
women, especially captive women. She will be nothing like the person she
left as."
"Fine. I’ll give you three quarters of the credits on that chit.
That should be more than enough. Don’t you agree?"
"You’re a good one. I hope to see you again sometime," the dealer
gave Marcus a coy smile as he transferred the credits into his own account
before walking back into the main bar.
"I hope I never have reason to."
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"Commander, you’ve been here for two days now. Aren’t you getting
tired of this?" the interrogator asked. "I here you had quite an experience
with Davis. He does it to almost everyone, at least all the women he brings
here. Don’t worry, that was nothing like what you’ll see here. Here it’s
worse."
Ivanova sat there, her back as straight as possible, at rigid
attention. For the past eighteen hours she had been here, but they hadn’t
really pulled anything yet. They had mostly just left her there, tied to the
chair.
"Well, I think it’s high time we got started," the woman commented
before signaling for the two guards who followed her around the complex.
"Untie her. Get her ready in room twelve. I’ll be there in ten minutes."
"Yes ma’am," the larger of the two snapped. The treatment was rough,
but she was glad to be able to move her arms again, even if her wrists were
still bound together tightly. "C’mon," they pulled her into a dark hallway.
Room twelve wasn’t that far away, but when they got inside she froze.
There was a cabinet in one corner, and several ropes hanging from the
ceiling in the middle of the room, those didn’t scare her. What did was the
object lying on the floor.
"Let’s get busy," the guard stated to his smaller coworker, handing
over a short knife.
After they attached her to the ropes, they shortened them till they
were taut, but she could still touch the floor. She was as stretched out as
possible, and quite uncomfortable, but she remained silent.
The smaller, knife yielding guard approached her, and in a soft feminine
voice instructed, "Now stay still and this won’t hurt a bit."
Susan watched as the sharp blade of the knife cut through the fabric
of her shirt easily, and then spoke for the first time since her arrival,
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Preparing you," the clothing fell almost soundlessly to the floor.
"Just tell them they ask you to, and no harm will come to you."
"Okay, what do you want to know?" she asked hesitantly as the rest
of the clothes covering her upper portion were removed.
"You’ll find out soon enough."
They left quietly, leaving the room dark, and her alone, though not for too
long. A bright light entered the room, very focused, and acting as a spotlight
against her. A dark figure followed, walking through the shadows, and
stopping in front of her just outside the edge of the light.
As the person stepped forward into the illuminated area the face was revealed
to Ivanova. It was the woman who had been talking to her before. "Who are
you?" she asked holding a long black whip in one hand, her other hand
resting on her hip.
"I am Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5."
"Good. That’s a start. Now what do you people want with EarthGov?"
"We want Clark gone."
"What are you planning?" The only answer was silence. "Answer me!"
still the captive would not speak. The whip whined as it slapped through the
air, cracking as the tip of it met Ivanova’s bare flesh, but she still remained
silent.
The cries of the whip, and the battered woman echoed through the
halls, the pitch of her pain changing as her interrogator changed instruments.
Still she would never speak.
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"Jones! She won’t budge! I’ve tried everything, the whip, the knives,
hell I’ve even burnt her back. For crying out loud we’ve tried everything
short of having a teep go through her mind, but we all agreed not to get the
Corps involved. I’ll go back in morning, but if she still won’t speak I’ll
put her in a shuttle and let her drift outside Babylon 5. Maybe all that has
happened to her will prove to be a good warning against any would be
conspirators."
"Fine."
End Part 2
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