The only sound in the jungle was the groaning of metal bearing too much weight and the pop of arcing electricity. Though the letters "ANTIOCH" could still be made out on the hull beneath the cockpit, the twisted hulk no longer even remotely resembled its former self. The aft quarter of the ship was gone, likely still in orbit. The cockpit was torn off just aft of the navigator's post on impact, and was now lodged between two enormous trees at the end of the shallow trench it dug. Half way up to trench, the rest of the craft lay on its side. The bottom two decks, and the eight men stationed on them, were now crushed against the floor of the command deck.
Scattered in and around the wreck lay fifteen hard-sealed combat suits. Each was emblazoned with the insignia of the Galactic Federation on the left breast, and each containing the body of one of the Antioch's crew. Most were either slumped at their posts or laying on what was left of the bridge. A handful lay scattered around the craft. One lay separate from the others, near the start of the trench.
Emerald green eyes slowly opened inside the suit.
******
The first thing Second Lieutenant Tara Clarke felt was pain. Her head was throbbing, and her body ached. She tried to breathe, but winced as searing pain shot through the right side of her torso. All she could see was dark red, and she had a metallic taste in her mouth. Her left hand grasped at the back of her helmet, searching for the release. When she found it, Tara used the last of her strength to pull it off and push it away. Exhausted, she collapsed, letting her head hit the soil. Her eyes closed again.
She was jolted back by the sound of limbs cracking. Instinctively, her head came up, and she tried to look around, but again all she could see was red. She wiped her eyes clean with her hand. Looking at her hand, she saw that the glove was stained by a dark, crimson fluid. She had her first coherent thought since the crash.
Blood
.
I'm bleeding.
In the distance, she heard the sound of footsteps on hollow metal. She had heard it constantly since she came aboard the Antioch a month earlier, but it sounded different this time. She could hear the familiar dull sound of a foot hitting the deck, but it was accompanied by a series of sharp clicks, almost simultaneous with each other. After a moment, she realized what it was: Pirates.
She froze, trying to think. Her right hand slowly slid to her hip, trying to find her sidearm. It found nothing.
Put distance between yourself and the crash site
. Her training began to kick in.
I have to get up
.
She brought her hands up and pushed, trying to get to her feet. But as soon as she tried to exert force, pain again tore through her flank, and she collapsed. Before she could catch herself, she cried out. The footsteps stopped.
Shit.
She lay motionless, listening. After a few seconds, she heard a low, scratchy growl come from the crash, followed by the sound of feet moving quickly over dirt. Tara closed her eyes and held her breath.
I'm dead. Please think I'm dead.
The footsteps drew closer and closer. Suddenly, she felt something take hold of her shoulder. She was lifted from the ground and tossed onto her back, crying out again when she landed. When she opened her eyes, she was face to face with a pirate. It turned and called out in a sharp growl. The pirate then turned back to her, bringing one clawed hand to her throat. It started to squeeze, crushing her throat.
Tara fought to breathe, clawing at the creature's powerful arm. Her vision began to fade, and her arms fell to her side. Then, the hand was gone. Coughing, she looked up. Another pirate, this one larger, had arrived. It stood over the first, its back turned to her. Slowly, she began to push herself away. As soon as she moved, though, the pirate turned and looked at her. It walked slowly up next to her and, with a low, growling laugh, kicked her head.
Once again, Tara lost consciousness.
******
She awoke to the sensation of cold metal on her back. Her feet were raised, and she was held by the ankles. Tara raised her head and looked at her feet. She was being dragged down a dark corridor by two pirates, each holding one leg.
Oh God, no
. She had heard stories of what the Pirates did to prisoners, and none of them end well
.
"No, please no!" she begged. Her right hand felt a pipe and latched on instinctively, but as soon as she tried to hold herself in place, the pain in her side forced her to let go. She cried out in agony, and her eyes filled with tears. Her left hand went to the pain, and she held her side as she was dragged on. Tara struggled to calm herself.
They stopped at a door. One of the pirates pressed his hand to a panel, and the door opened. She was pulled into the room. She held her eyes shut, hoping it was a nightmare, willing the pirates away. When the doors closed, she felt the pirates drop her legs. Almost before her feet hit the ground, she felt her wrists being pulled together over her head, and metal lock around them. She tried to pull them apart, but they wouldn't separate. The doors opened again as the pirates walked out. When they shut, Tara was in total darkness.
I am going to die. They are going to torture me, and I am going to die .
She waited in the dark, preparing for what she knew was to come.
After a few minutes, the doors again opened and a pirate entered. She recognized it as the one that had kicked her. Behind him came two others, both armed with plasma rifles. The leader crossed the room and activated a control panel. A light came on above her head, blinding her. She felt a tug on her wrists, and they were pulled towards the ceiling. She could see metal cuffs around her wrists, holding them together. They were connected to a chain that ran up to the ceiling. The chain continued to pull, dragging her up. As it did so, more and more weight was placed on her injury. She screamed in agony as she was pulled to her feet. The lead pirate motioned to the guards, who nodded and moved towards her.
The pirates grabbed her and began removing her hard-suit. As Tara struggled helplessly, they removed her gloves, bracers, and wrist computer. Next, they removed the shoulder pieces and chest plate, letting them fall to the floor. The plating covering her groin and thighs were ripped from the suit and tossed aside. She was then raised off her feet. As she cried out in pain, the guards pulled the leg protection past her feet. Finally, she was lowered until she rested on her knees, her hands between her legs. The only clothing she still had on was the thin sleeveless shirt and knee length briefs containing the sensors for the suits vital signs monitoring system.
Tara gasped for air, dizzy from the agony. A hand gipped her red hair and pulled her head up. She stared into the face of her captor blankly, oblivious to anything but the slowly receding pain. As her mind came back to her, the pirate turned to the interrogator and nodded. The interrogator typed commands into the panel, and a small screen was lowered from the ceiling in front of her. Bold red letters appeared on the black screen.
