The Rebellious Slave Ch. 02

"I didn't know it had a name!"

"You unassuming little liar!" Alyssa teased, not at all seeming to hear her. "Telling me you're a nobody when—"

"I am!" Kara very nearly screamed. "I didn't do anything!"

"You kinda did, though. You blew up a train."

"No, no...that's a misunderstanding," Kara protested. "Someone else got hold of the intel and the materials, then came up with a plan. Someone else transported the team into Pickling and then snuck us onto the train. When you think about all the work that went into that mission, I didn't really do anything."

"Except blow up a fucking train."

"I pressed a button!" Kara hissed. "That's it!"

"Uh-huh, and I've never killed anyone, I only ever pulled the trigger," Alyssa replied, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "What's your point, medic?"

"My point is that I'm not supposed to be here," Kara groaned, grabbing onto the chains above her to try and steady herself, just as a new wave of nausea hit. "I was supposed to be at a Captly's auction and I...I think I'm gonna puke."

"Shit...okay, deep breaths," Alyssa told her and her voice suddenly took on a commanding, but gentle tone. "Come on, give me a few deep breaths. You can do this."

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can. But you have to listen to me. Give me just five good, long deep breaths. Come on."

It was hard—her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, it hurt—but finally, Kara managed one deep breath and then another. Now three, and four, and then five. The room stopped spinning—her heart stopped pounding—and though she was far from being okay, Kara was good enough.

"Better now? I can call over a medic if you need more drugs?"

"No, no...I'm okay now. I think I'm okay."

"Look, this isn't going to be easy, but if you're interested in resisting Arlington, I can help you," Alyssa told her, her expression frighteningly serious for someone who had just spent half the night taunting their captors with an obnoxious grin on her face. "Are you ready to listen?"

"You say that like he's already bought me," Kara whispered, and she found that her voice had grown hoarse. "But that Belvodeil guy really wants me, don't you think...?"

"Oh, please," Alyssa groaned, rolling her eyes. "Belvodeil doesn't have the stones to try and outbid his Commanding General—let alone the Fourth Lord of Isleydor—so unless there's someone else out there who wants you, you belong to Arlington now."

"Do you have to say it like that?" Kara hissed, and in that instant, her fear had turned to anger. "You don't know that for sure!"

"Yes, I do," Alyssa hissed right back. "I know this is rough, and it'll only get worse. But if you want to make it out the same way you're going in, you should heed my advice. I've worked in intelligence a long, long time. I know how these guys work. I did a six month stint in Calphore and during that time, I was interrogated by a lot of fucked up people. I'm telling you, if Arlington's interrogation style is anything like his slave-breaking style, you ought to be worshiping my words right about now."

"Alright, alright!" Kara relented, finally letting resignation sweep over her. "I'm listening."

"Good, because you're gonna be on your own soon," Alyssa told her, glancing anxiously around the room. Martkorp was already setting up for the live auctions and a crowd had started to form around the stage. "First things first, Lord Arlington is the man they bring in when pain isn't an effective interrogation technique. He's a mind fucker; he fucks with minds. So, it'll be imperative that you learn to recognize when he's bluffing and when he isn't."

"I...I don't know what that means."

"Arlington will push you until he finds a line, and then he'll work on making you cross that line. When he's done, he'll push some more until he finds a second line to work with. The key is to try and prevent him from finding a line in the first place, so resist every dumbass little thing. Indiscriminately resist every question, every order, every punishment he doles out," Alyssa told her, and an eerie smile crossed her face. "And have fun with it, too. Get creative—make up some imaginary fears for yourself. I've heard Arlington wears these stupid little kitten slippers. I don't know if it's true, but if it were, that'd be hilarious. Anyway, you could feign a kitten phobia." Alyssa rattled her chains as if helpless, faking a terrified voice. "Oh god, master! Not the slippers! Don't make me kiss your kitten slippers!"

"This isn't funny!" Kara screeched defensively. "And what the hell is a line?"

"You know, a fucking line," Alyssa told her, looking a tad annoyed, but not unsympathetic. "Let's see...we all have certain things we're willing to do under enough duress, right? Things we're willing to sacrifice for our comfort or our dignity. But then there are those things so totally abhorrent to us that even under extreme duress, we won't fucking do them. That's a line. The more lines an interrogator can push you past, the more information he can extract. Or, in your case, the more subservience he can demand." Just then, Alyssa scanned the room and stopped at a face she recognized. "Well, speak of the devil..."

Kara looked up just as an older gentleman began to head toward them, his eyes and hair a dark, foreboding gray. He wore the black military uniform of a man exclusively from intelligence and the corresponding sigil of his department—a sword, piercing through a book—as silver pin on the left side of his chest. Alyssa must have recognized him, for she grinned wickedly as he approached. People kept stopping him as he walked by and he would pause to chat with them, but eventually, he made his way over to their portion of the platform.

"Greenwood, my feelings are hurt," Alyssa complained, her smile never once wavering. "Have you been here this whole time, but have only now decided to visit?" The man paused in front of her, his serious eyes unamused, and Alyssa laughed. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that..."

"I assume you'll be going live in a little while," the man observed, stepping toward Alyssa and picking up the clipboard beside her. As he absentmindedly flipped through the bids, Kara realized that there were multiple pages worth and felt her eyes grow wide. "If that's the case, I suppose I shall see you on the floor in a moment. Still, I was hoping to get a closer look before I made any bids." Lifting his eyes from the clipboard, Greenwood considered Alyssa carefully, then gave a little cluck of disapproval. "God, you're even more scarred up than I remember, but I suppose you'll have to do."

"You sure you don't want to cop a feel?" Alyssa taunted, and she squashed her boobs together again. "You don't want to come over and get a free sample first?"

"I'd prefer to stay out of reach," Greenwood replied tersely, and he glanced at the chains holding her as if he were most unimpressed. "If you wanted to get out of—well, whatever the hell that's supposed to be—you could easily do so and we both know it."

"Ha! You scared?"

"I'm cautious," Greenwood clarified, seemingly oblivious to her provocations, and he started pawing through her clipboard again. "My god, look at this list...what the hell have you been up to?"

"What?" Alyssa scoffed, and Greenwood raised his eyebrows. "What?!"

"Both Ethan Telmer and Elizabeth Wylde are placing bids," Greenwood sighed, now looking a little less stoic and a little more frustrated. "What on earth did you do to piss them both off? You only got free a little over three months ago."

"I'm just a popular girl, I guess."

"You're obnoxious," Greenwood corrected. "Unfortunately for me, you seem to have turned that into a selling point."

"Ah, don't be angry, sweetie..."

"I'm going to have to outbid Wylde," Greenwood groaned. "There goes my budget."

"I promise you won't regret it," Alyssa purred, her eyes sparkling with something resembling madness, but also triumph. "I've really missed our little chats, Greenwood. I swore on my life that I'd only scream for you, and I kept that promise. Now it's time to finally reconcile our differences one-on-one, don't you think?" With that, Alyssa's persistent grin suddenly turned malicious. "But you better make sure you lock me up tight and even then, I'd sleep with one eye open."

"You just about done?" Greenwood asked, not the least bit phased by her scary little monologue. "I don't want to interrupt, but you're not the only item on my to-do list, so..."

"You're no fun, you know that?"

"Nonsense," Greenwood told her, his face utterly expressionless. "I'm loads of fun." Then he turned on his heel, and Alyssa watched him slink back into the crowd.

"You...you know that man?" Kara asked, unsettled by the exchange, but Alyssa only shrugged.

"We've been engaged in...how do I describe it? A sick, twisted love affair of sorts?"

"Thank you for your patience this evening!" the loudspeakers suddenly boomed, and Kara almost leapt out of her chains a third time. "We'll be starting the live auction in just a few minutes, so please head on over to the main stage." Turning toward the front of the room, Kara saw that the well-dressed man from earlier had taken to the podium to serve as the auctioneer and the seats laid out before him were absolutely packed with prospective buyers.

"Ugh, fucking finally," Alyssa growled. "I have shit to do."

"Gather 'round again, gather 'round!" the loudspeakers continued, and those patrons still mingling on the outskirts of the auction hall began to head toward the stage. There was an excited, almost sinister little undercurrent of chatter and Kara could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears all over again. "We are running out of seats, ladies and gentlemen, but there is still plenty of standing room. If you have a disability and need any specialty accommodations, please let the host know. And now, let's get started! Typical rules will hold for the live auction. The minimum bidding increment will be fifty thousand qualid, and we ask that you please don't harass the merchandise. We'll begin with the most highly contested pieces and work our way down from there. First up is...ah, yes! General Benjamin Karrington, head of the White Horse Rebel Alliance. Or, at least, he was." At that, the crowd erupted into laughter and dozens of heads turned as Callihistra's famed First General was hauled toward the stage. "Give him a wide berth, ladies and gentlemen. We've been having a little trouble with this one."

It took four fully grown men to drag Karrington toward the stage and despite the auctioneer's warning, the crowd did not give him a wide berth. As the general and his escorts made their way through a veritable sea of prospective buyers, the patrons laughed and jeered and spit in his face. Some of them tried to reach out and snag a handful of his clothing or rip out a chunk of his hair, but the handlers had been prepared for this and did an excellent job of fending them off. Even so, Kara couldn't stop biting her nails or, at least, the psychological equivalent. The mob was incredibly zealous and she was desperately afraid that the handlers would be overwhelmed. If this was indeed a "spectacle" and a "show," then the main event had just begun and everyone wanted to be involved.

"Please, please don't harass the merchandise!" the auctioneer begged. "Please, let him through!" But no one was listening.

Finally, the Martkorp handlers managed to pull their charge onto the stage, but it was a struggle to secure him to the leather-padded "X" at its center. The general had no intention of making their jobs easy and fought them every step of the way. Two men had to hold him down while the others frantically tried to affix his cuffs to their corresponding clasps, racing to finish up before being shaken off. At one point, Karrington miraculously broke free, but the handlers quickly grabbed hold of him and dragged him back. He turned around and swung at one of them, but he missed and the room immediately broke into applause. Then eventually, he lost altogether. Chained spread-eagle upon the stage, Karrington looked a lot more like a wet, beaten dog than a person. His body sagged with exhaustion and his hair was positively soaked through with perspiration, but the hatred in his eyes never once wavered. Defiance was written in every line of his face, even as drool dribbled down his chin from the gag in his mouth.

Looking at him like that—with rage, and desperation, and grief seeping from every square inch of his skin—it suddenly occurred to Kara that he had been responsible for the harsh, male scream earlier that evening. The look in his eyes told Kara that if he hadn't been gagged, he would still be screaming his lungs hoarse, until they either gave out or he lost his tongue altogether.

"We'll begin the bidding at six hundred thousand qualid..."

From then on, it was utter chaos. Kara suspected that the semi-open bar in the back was largely to blame. She could barely hear the auctioneer over all the din and was amazed that he was able to keep track of all the distressed bidding and shouting. Someone came close to being involved in a fistfight and security had to be called over. But finally, Benjamin Karrington was sold to a mousy-looking woman wearing thick rimmed glasses and a beige dress suit. As her competitors sighed or otherwise groaned in defeat, the auctioneer banged his gavel three times and accepted her bid. At over three million qualid in total, it would likely be the highest that evening. The woman pushed back her glasses and Kara could see that her eyes had been dyed to match her long, maroon hair.

"Hey, Alyssa...," Kara whispered, because she seemed to know damn near everyone there, probably a side effect of working in intelligence. "Who is that woman?"

"Honestly?" Alyssa shrugged. "I don't know. She must be above my pay grade."

"And now, an especially tasty treat," the auctioneer continued, and as Karrington was taken away, a gentle chuckle rippled through the crowd. "Ah, and now I see that some of you are getting ahead of me. Very well. Without further ado, may I present the lovely Tamius Sue!" Glancing toward the back of the hall, Kara watched as her general was led toward the stage, looking solemn, but strangely complaint. "And there she is, ladies and gentlemen—the very last of the White Horse rebel scum to finally fall." The crowd laughed, and Kara saw that the auctioneer was positively grinning from ear to ear. "Don't let her shy away, folks! Let's get some applause going and congratulate the general on her stunning victory!"

The auction hall was suddenly filled with enthusiastic clapping and cheers, but Kara only had eyes for her general. It was surprisingly difficult to see her captive like this, being flanked on either side by a pair of Martkorp handlers and marched toward a hostile crowd hungry for her anger and her tears. But Tamius gave them nothing—not a whisper, not a glare—and stepped toward the stage with cool, almost regal confidence. Once there, she allowed the Martkorp handlers to secure her to the leather-padded "X" without so much as a word of protest. Kara thought she'd never seen someone so brave and it almost hurt to look at her.

"Do I hear three hundred thousand qualid? Three fifty? Four?"

There was chaos again and more jeering, but Tamius didn't acknowledge any of it. She stared down at the patrons as if they were less than dirt and just as filthy. At least two dozen of them were fervently placing bids and two women on the outskirts of the hall got into an argument, but eventually, Tamius was sold to Lord Arlington for one and a quarter million qualid. From all the way across the room, Kara couldn't see the man who had bought her general and who would undoubtedly buy her, but she could hear several hearty voices congratulating him and cursed under her breath. No one was really paying attention as Tamius was taken down from the leather-padded "X." It all happened so abruptly, Kara could hardly believe it had happened at all, but it did. One moment, the handlers were on their feet and the next minute they were on the ground.

The second her wrists and ankles were free, Tamius lunged at the nearest handler and dropped him with a single blow. Kara recognized that move. It was a brachial stun, delivered at the neck just below and slightly in front of the ear. Done right, it'd compress the carotid artery, jugular vein, and vagus nerve all at once and the result was instant unconsciousness. The handler fell and he fell hard, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. But the second handler was a lot more cautious and jumped back just in time. He grabbed the taser on his belt and charged Tamius, but she was quick as lightening and maybe even quicker. She expertly dodged every attempt to make contact, dropping her weight with unnerving fluidity and then slipping carefully from side to side. The next time he tried to shock her, she grabbed his outstretched arm, turned sideways, and then threw him to the ground, knocking the wind clean out of him.

"Haha! Reverse wrist throw!" Alyssa grinned. "Fucking beautiful!"

While the handler on the ground was still too stunned to move, Tamius twisted his arm back and shocked him unconscious with his own taser. Kara heard a bloodcurdling scream pierce through the air and then suddenly, there was silence. Two other handlers rushed the stage, and now the stairs on either side were blocked off. But Tamius was hardly finished. Kara could see the gears spinning behind her eyes as they darted from one handler to the other, then finally grew still. Her feet lifted off from the ground and not a second later, Tamius was hurtling across the stage. She rushed upon the third handler with her fists raised, then tucked in her elbows and immediately began throwing punches. Her attacks were so fast, they existed only as flesh-colored blurs.

But this handler was better prepared than the first two had been. As Tamius continued her barrage, he slipped in and out of reach, blocked a few blows, and then almost landed one of his own. Unfortunately, he was so focused on her upper body that when she crouched down and swept his leg, he was completely unprepared for it. He went down, but the fourth handler had been running toward them the whole time and he was now less than a yard away. Thinking quickly, Tamius leapt backward and over the floor, performing three successive handsprings. Her feet hit the ground and she used her momentum to slip to the side. Now she was behind the handler and it honestly looked like she'd teleported there. Before he had a chance to reorient himself, she delivered a spinning wheel kick to the back of his head and he was knocked out cold.

Holy shit! Kara thought.

"Haha, holy fucking shit!" Alyssa cried.

But Tamius wasn't going to escape, not from a Martkorp auction hall somewhere deep inside Isleydor. Kara watched as four handlers ran past her on their way to the stage, loading their tranq guns as they went and disengaging the safeties. Soon, Tamius was surrounded on all sides and Kara held her breath, waiting for the inevitable to unfold and holding back tears. But Tamius had known all along that it would come to this. As the Martkorp handlers rushed the stage to subdue her, Tamius complacently spread her legs shoulder width apart and positioned her hands behind her head with her fingers interlocking. Then with cold eyes, she looked down at Lord Arlington and though she didn't shout, Kara could hear her in the dead quiet of the auction hall.

"That was your only warning, Arlington," Tamius said, her voice frighteningly serious. "If you intend to bury me, you had better bury me deep."