Octavia wakes with a heavy head and the sensation of being on a boat. She's unsure of when she lost consciousness and fears to open her eyes when she's able to. Memories from last night cycle through her head like a dream. She dearly hopes they were just dreams. If they weren't, maybe Squad has recovered her and the rest of the hostages already.
After a while, the world stops sloshing and she realizes she's not on a boat but steady on the ground. As the ocean sensations die down, she feels the sharp pain from a knot in her head, the ache from a bruise on her arm, and sore feet. There's also something on her ankle, aggravating it's already painful state.
Moaning and shifting around, she hears the clatter of metal against metal. Her eyes flutter open as they adjust to the light. A long, thick, slightly rusted chain on her ankle attaching her to a bed, if the metal slab sticking out of the wall could be called one, makes her queasy. Her heart jumps to her throat as she struggles against her increasingly aching muscles to check her clothes. They are all still intact and undisturbed, including her shoes and stockings.
A small sigh slightly slows her heart. This was only a small relief. She wouldn't feel the rest of the relief until she was under the silk sheets of her plush bed and not on this uncomfortable metal sheet cramping up her muscles.
As she stretches and pops her muscles, she notices another metal slab of a bed above her. A table, welded to the floor, is within reach of the bunk. Two chairs adjacent from the bunk and across from each other are bolted to the floor.
A peculiar object hangs in the corner: a plastic cube with a glass front and wires coming out the back of it. Something about it is familiar but Octavia can't place what it is.
A person shifts outside the cell. Octavia notices two Chromies outside her cell, one on each end of the bar wall. The rounds of ammo and large guns strapped to them sends quivers down her spine.
"Where am I?" Octavia surprises herself that she spoke. Her voice is tired. Her tiredness is what probably contributes to her courage. The more tired she is, the less she cares about anything. "Where am I?" she asks louder but just as tired.
With these words, she feels the sandpaper-like film forming in her mouth.
Neither Chromy replies to her.
She grates her teeth. Are they ignoring her? "I know you heard me." The anger she tries conveying is subdued by her stomach growling. She doesn't feel the hunger, but her body makes it evident she is.
A guard either scoffs or lets out a quiet chuckle.
"Is this your plan? To starve and dehydrate me until my parents pay your ransom?"
The Chromies remain silent.
Octavia shakily gets to her feet and makes her way to the bars. Walking feels like she's in a dream. Her head is somewhere else but her body is there, slinking its way towards Chromies. The chain barely reaches. She grips the bars to steady herself.
Looking at the guard to her left, Octavia stares at the guard for a moment to make sure she's seeing correctly. The Chromy is a woman. She has never seen a female rebel from the Chromies. No one ever has. All the feeds showing Chromy activity only ever showed men geared up and attacking.
The woman shoots a deathly glare at Octavia. Octavia shuffles away a little and looks at the man on the opposite end. He keeps his eyes ahead.
Octavia squeezes the bars in her hands. "Why won't either of you speak to me?"
"Because they're ordered not to."
Octavia snaps around. She suppresses a startled scream with a gasp and pins herself against the bars.
Shard chuckles. The corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile hidden under his mask. He lacks his chrome jacket, replaced with a denim one ripped at the elbows.
"For the daughter of a female general you're certainly jumpy and poorly trained," he says. "I mean...What was that retreat and attack tactic last night? And now you're pinned when I simply talk to you? Do ya take more after your father?"
Octavia dumbly looks at him while he talks.
"Anyway," Shard says, "I hope you don't mind I used your bathroom." He points his thumb towards a door in the cell Octavia was unaware of. "You took for-ev-er to wake up, and when a guy's gotta leak, he's gonna leak."
Octavia's eye winces in disgust. The thought of Shard pissing that close to her...
"Anyway, again," Shard says, "How 'bout some eats? And unless ya swallowed a live lion while I was in there, I know you're hungry."
Shard makes a swinging motion with his hand. A guard opens the door Octavia was leaning against. She begins to fall back, but Shard catches her arm before she can hit the floor. Octavia yanks her arm from him and tries to back away. The chain on her ankle keeps her from doing so. She looks at him through narrowed eyes. Her arm tingles like someone dumped garbage on it.
"What?" Shard says. "I can't have ya busting your head if I'm to get my ransom from ya. And don't worry. I washed my hands. I'm not a heathen."
Octavia steps out of his way and goes to sit on her bunk. The guards lock her back in.
Within some quiet, nerve-wracking minutes, Shard returns.
He leaves a covered plate outside the cell but drops a bundle of clothes in Octavia's lap.
"Your attire isn't exactly acceptable," Shard explains. "It's a little too..." His eyes, crinkled in a mischievous smile, scan Octavia. "Distracting," Shard finishes. "And we're all quite busy around here, and we don't need that kind of distraction. So, I brought you some clothes. If any are too big or small I can get better fitting ones. Ya can go ahead and get dressed in the bathroom."
Octavia glares at him with glances at the chain on her ankle.
"You're gonna have to use words, sweetheart," Shard says.
After gritting her teeth, she says, "How can I get dressed with this chain on?"
"The chain can fit under the space in the door. Ya go in. I lock you in and slide you the key to the ankle chain, and ya take your ankle out, get dressed, lock the chain back on your ankle, and slide the key back," Shard explains. "And don't think that there's a way out of there other than the door. Also, I'll know if ya have the chain because I'll look. And even if ya figure somethin' out to bolt with that chain off, remember how vastly out-numbered ya are."
Octavia huffs as she gathers the clothes in her arms. She keeps a skeptical eye on Shard while making her way over to the bathroom door. But she stops right outside of it.
"If you are able to tell that I am wearing the chain from the space under the door, you will be able to watch me dress, won't you?"
"Indeed-y," Shard says with a hidden smirk. "But tell me what I would see under that door that ain't showin' now."
Octavia uses the clothes bundle to cover her chest. She takes an indignant breath and presses her back against the door.
Shard laughs, then lets out an over-dramatic sigh.
"I won't look until you tell me you're done," he says with a pout. "Unless ya want me to." His eyes smile.
Octavia scoffs and stomps into the bathroom. The door slams behind her.
"You break that door, you're doing all your doody for everyone to see," Shard says.
Octavia holds back her irritated screams with a tight jaw. She could never handle how Shard spoke. Many times she's heard him on NetNews and only tolerated his uncouth, childish speech because she knew how important it is to stay informed – especially on the biggest anarchist leader in the country.
But the irritation built in her chest changes to a quaking fear fluttering her stomach as she hears the bathroom lock click and a key slide on the floor. This is real. She is a hostage. She is in danger. She can't escape. There is no way for her to escape through the bathroom unless she could fit through the quarter-sized drains of the sink or shower or fist-sized drain of the toilet. There was not an air vent either, which worries Octavia for various reasons.
She leans against the door and looks at her reflection in the chrome wall across from her. Her pale skin and dark eyes redden as she resists tears. She will not show weakness. She hugs herself. She will not and cannot be weak after she cries these angry, silent, scared tears for only her reflection to see.