Part 41
Starbuck was on the weapons range. She was alone, because it was two in the morning, and even Crossroads Facility was quiet as the tomb at this hour of the night. But she couldn't sleep, and Starbuck really knew only two things you could do alone to blow off steam: drink, or blow things up.
She'd stop drinking last week; she was afraid she would never stop otherwise, and if that happened, then she'd lose her edge. She knew, as unpleasant as the thought was, that she was at the bottom among this little group. Mara had a talent she'd never really understood that was simply part of her. Seven's cybernetics put her beyond any normal human. Samus had those special enhancements as well, lending her an incredible edge. And Lara had been given a lifetime of training to hone mind and body as far as any normal human being could be pushed.
And then there was her. Growing up in the slums of Caprica, the only training in how to endure pain from her abusive mother. She had a raw talent, and that was her only edge. On Galactica, that had made her stand out; here, she was just the mouthiest, and she knew it.
And yet, Ms. Danoob had approached her, of all of them. She was the one who'd agreed to do her dirty work, to work behind the backs of the others when the boss didn't want them knowing the entire picture. Why pick her, and not one of the others? Or was it Kara's desperation that had convinced her, the extra leverage that Ms. Danoob needed to overcome the loyalty to each other.
Starbuck put three shots at the center of the target. She rolled it out another twenty feet and repeated the gesture.
She didn't actually betray Seven. Lara had gotten the shot off, purely for her own interests. But if she hadn't... if she hadn't, Starbuck would have pulled the trigger, stunned Mara, and dragged her off leaving Seven behind. The only reason she hadn't actually done it was because she had been beaten to the punch, but that changed nothing. They were a team, and on orders, she left a teammate behind.
She put three more shots into the center of the target again, then rolled it out still further. In her earpiece the rhythmic music began to play. She'd found out that a similar tune to the old classic was known on Earth. She'd picked up an instrumental version immediately as a little reminder of home. As she usually did, she sang along, remembering the place that had been a hell throughout childhood, and still the place she wished she could be.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven had entered a timeless environment now; even her Borg nature couldn't tell one moment from the next, just the perpetual now. The truth was that weeks had passed, but there had been no possible way to measure their comings and goings. Even sleep had been removed as a primitive measure; the chemicals pumped into her body somehow made the entire process unnecessary, so that Seven was exposed to their brainwashing constantly, without a moment's respite, even to escape into unconsciousness.
The computer was tickling her armpits now, running its tendrils up and down her hollows, or drawing little circles within them. As always, she was positioned for maximum exposure, so that she felt every ticklish touch, further intensified by the chemicals that flooded her senses. They went through their circuit again, and the love-hate relationship she had with tickling continued. And below that, the constant sense of pleasure went through her, so that her emotions were a confused jumble. When the words were whispered to her, she couldn't help but listen.
--------------------------------------------------------------
" I hear the drums echoing tonight," Starbuck sang, "but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.
"She's coming in twelve-thirty flight. Her moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven's ribs were experiencing what was probably the worst tickling ever. She was prodded all over each individual rib, so much so that it seemed the whole area was covered with them. Of course, there was no worry; the computer had total control and was making sure there was adequate space so that the tickling tips didn't interfere with each other. Seven laughed madly, unable to avoid the attacks because of the way her back arched. That just made it even worse, as it left the helpless, ticklish ribs right up against her tight skin, and giving extra room for the tendrils to do their work.
All the while, the words were whispered, and Seven couldn't ignore them. They mentioned the undeniable truth, of how Seven really felt like this. Yes, it was maddening, overwhelming even. And yet, she was in paradise, with each horrible tickle like a kiss on her soft skin. She was laughing like crazy, but there was no denying part of that was from sheer enjoyment.
But, of course, there was no real thought there, only the sensations that passed through her mind as tickling filled her world.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Starbuck put three more shots into the center of the target. "I stopped an old man along the way, Hoping to find some old forgotten words, or ancient melodies.
"He turned to me as if to say - 'Hurry, girl, it's waiting there for you..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven shuddered and shook as the computer gently ran its tickling tools over her breasts. She could feel them stroking even after the moment had gone, as if there was a tactile afterimage from each one, so that her poor flesh felt like two white hot orbs of ticklishness. They teased around her nipples and stroked the sides. They scratched lightly, horribly, underneath them. They lightly pinched and prodded all over. They ran feathery touches across her delicate skin.
She'd identified these as her worst spot during her awful interrogation. Now, it was definitely the most sensitive... but "worst" was a word hard to use. The more it tickled, the more she wanted them to continue. The tickling was driving her wild with enjoyment, and even if she were not restrained, at this point she knew she'd be positioning herself to give them the best position to tickle her boobs until she passed out from enjoyment and exhaustion.
In time, the computer assured her, you'll have this whenever you want.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.
"There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.
"I bless the rains down in Caprica.
"Gonna take some time to do the things we never had..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Things buzzed all over the bottom of Seven's feet. There were little rotary brushes, running up and sown the sides of the soles. There were the spinning pads that were delicately but oh so effectively applied to spots along her instep. There were some whirring feathered items that were running up and down the lengths of her soles, teasing from ball to heel. That was just the buzzing, of curse. Then there was the other stuff, like the little feathery touches that slid between her outstretched toes, sliding along the little curves to find the most ticklish nooks and crannies of Seven's feet. There was also the bit of light scratching here and there on the sole, somehow always managing to stay out of the way of the other tickle tools that ran back and forth over her poor feet.
Seven was laughing wildly under the influence; her feet were still very ticklish, and the computer had done a good job of figuring out just how to tickle them as much as possible. Instinctively she fought to free them, but still she wished she'd fail, that the tickling wouldn't stop. She'd already come to miss the other recent tickle spots, which was a surprising turn. She wanted more... she wanted to be drowning in it, she wanted them to find new places on her body that she'd never known were ticklish and torment them non-stop!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Starbuck was practicing her snapshot now, dropping and rolling, as she aimed. "The wild dogs cry out in the night, as they grow restless longing for some solitary company..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
There was no longer any escape. Seven was in a laughing, twirling, endless realm of tickling. The various instruments and tools at the computer's disposal were everywhere, hitting every place as before with the same intensity - feet, breasts, ribs, and armpits. And to that symphony a new orchestra had been added. There were pinches and strokes all along her perfect bottom. There was light scratching across her taut belly. There was the surprising prods all along her flanks. There was the deep tickling massages along her inner thighs. There were the feathery wisps around her womanhood. If there was a ticklish spot on her body, the computer was going at it.
It was torture, so much so that she could hardly breathe. But there was no doubt that she didn't want this to stop, that she was as happy as she could possibly be.
“Seven?" the computer asked quietly, "do you love me?"
Somehow, amidst the laughter, she admitted that she did.
"Do you know who I am?" the computer asked. Seven shook her head, unable to summon another answer. "I am the Empire. Do you love the Empire?"
And Seven offered a resounding yes.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I know that I must do what's right," Starbuck sang, squeezing off three shots as she dodged. “Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
It was all over, though she had no idea how long it had been over. She just stood in a room, looking at the back of her hands as if she'd never seen them before. She was nude, but that was inconsequential; if it was even pointed out, it was doubtful she'd have given it a second thought.
She was Seven. That would never change. But other than that, she was aware that she had been through a crucible of some kind, and now... now the way of thinking from before was gone. She knew that she had once been Borg, but it was a fleeting thing, like an adult may recall the shapes and images of a visit to a farm at the age of four. She didn't think in those terms any more. She thought like a human.
Seven touched the back of her hand. She felt like a human.
The door opened, and she looked up at people who some time before had been responsible for her capture and torture. There was no malice for them... they had been showing her love, she just hadn't really seen it.
"Are you ready to move to the next step, Seven?" Ronald Tetz asked. She nodded, and he smiled. "Then come with me." She took his hand and followed him out of the chamber.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I seek to cure what's... deep inside..." Starbuck hesitated, as the gun dry-fired in her hand, the power pack empty. She stared down at it. The music played on, without words as she stared at it... at what she was supposed to fire at Mara, so they could leave Seven behind. She looked at it... at this tool she was planning to use for betrayal, because she had to answer to Ms. Danoob, no matter what... no matter what. And then she sang the final line, quietly, so quietly none could possibly have heard it. And as she did, she realized why that song had been on her mind since the moment she'd made that deal with the devil.
"Frightened of this thing that I've become."
Starbuck was on the weapons range. She was alone, because it was two in the morning, and even Crossroads Facility was quiet as the tomb at this hour of the night. But she couldn't sleep, and Starbuck really knew only two things you could do alone to blow off steam: drink, or blow things up.
She'd stop drinking last week; she was afraid she would never stop otherwise, and if that happened, then she'd lose her edge. She knew, as unpleasant as the thought was, that she was at the bottom among this little group. Mara had a talent she'd never really understood that was simply part of her. Seven's cybernetics put her beyond any normal human. Samus had those special enhancements as well, lending her an incredible edge. And Lara had been given a lifetime of training to hone mind and body as far as any normal human being could be pushed.
And then there was her. Growing up in the slums of Caprica, the only training in how to endure pain from her abusive mother. She had a raw talent, and that was her only edge. On Galactica, that had made her stand out; here, she was just the mouthiest, and she knew it.
And yet, Ms. Danoob had approached her, of all of them. She was the one who'd agreed to do her dirty work, to work behind the backs of the others when the boss didn't want them knowing the entire picture. Why pick her, and not one of the others? Or was it Kara's desperation that had convinced her, the extra leverage that Ms. Danoob needed to overcome the loyalty to each other.
Starbuck put three shots at the center of the target. She rolled it out another twenty feet and repeated the gesture.
She didn't actually betray Seven. Lara had gotten the shot off, purely for her own interests. But if she hadn't... if she hadn't, Starbuck would have pulled the trigger, stunned Mara, and dragged her off leaving Seven behind. The only reason she hadn't actually done it was because she had been beaten to the punch, but that changed nothing. They were a team, and on orders, she left a teammate behind.
She put three more shots into the center of the target again, then rolled it out still further. In her earpiece the rhythmic music began to play. She'd found out that a similar tune to the old classic was known on Earth. She'd picked up an instrumental version immediately as a little reminder of home. As she usually did, she sang along, remembering the place that had been a hell throughout childhood, and still the place she wished she could be.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven had entered a timeless environment now; even her Borg nature couldn't tell one moment from the next, just the perpetual now. The truth was that weeks had passed, but there had been no possible way to measure their comings and goings. Even sleep had been removed as a primitive measure; the chemicals pumped into her body somehow made the entire process unnecessary, so that Seven was exposed to their brainwashing constantly, without a moment's respite, even to escape into unconsciousness.
The computer was tickling her armpits now, running its tendrils up and down her hollows, or drawing little circles within them. As always, she was positioned for maximum exposure, so that she felt every ticklish touch, further intensified by the chemicals that flooded her senses. They went through their circuit again, and the love-hate relationship she had with tickling continued. And below that, the constant sense of pleasure went through her, so that her emotions were a confused jumble. When the words were whispered to her, she couldn't help but listen.
--------------------------------------------------------------
" I hear the drums echoing tonight," Starbuck sang, "but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.
"She's coming in twelve-thirty flight. Her moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven's ribs were experiencing what was probably the worst tickling ever. She was prodded all over each individual rib, so much so that it seemed the whole area was covered with them. Of course, there was no worry; the computer had total control and was making sure there was adequate space so that the tickling tips didn't interfere with each other. Seven laughed madly, unable to avoid the attacks because of the way her back arched. That just made it even worse, as it left the helpless, ticklish ribs right up against her tight skin, and giving extra room for the tendrils to do their work.
All the while, the words were whispered, and Seven couldn't ignore them. They mentioned the undeniable truth, of how Seven really felt like this. Yes, it was maddening, overwhelming even. And yet, she was in paradise, with each horrible tickle like a kiss on her soft skin. She was laughing like crazy, but there was no denying part of that was from sheer enjoyment.
But, of course, there was no real thought there, only the sensations that passed through her mind as tickling filled her world.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Starbuck put three more shots into the center of the target. "I stopped an old man along the way, Hoping to find some old forgotten words, or ancient melodies.
"He turned to me as if to say - 'Hurry, girl, it's waiting there for you..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven shuddered and shook as the computer gently ran its tickling tools over her breasts. She could feel them stroking even after the moment had gone, as if there was a tactile afterimage from each one, so that her poor flesh felt like two white hot orbs of ticklishness. They teased around her nipples and stroked the sides. They scratched lightly, horribly, underneath them. They lightly pinched and prodded all over. They ran feathery touches across her delicate skin.
She'd identified these as her worst spot during her awful interrogation. Now, it was definitely the most sensitive... but "worst" was a word hard to use. The more it tickled, the more she wanted them to continue. The tickling was driving her wild with enjoyment, and even if she were not restrained, at this point she knew she'd be positioning herself to give them the best position to tickle her boobs until she passed out from enjoyment and exhaustion.
In time, the computer assured her, you'll have this whenever you want.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.
"There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.
"I bless the rains down in Caprica.
"Gonna take some time to do the things we never had..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Things buzzed all over the bottom of Seven's feet. There were little rotary brushes, running up and sown the sides of the soles. There were the spinning pads that were delicately but oh so effectively applied to spots along her instep. There were some whirring feathered items that were running up and down the lengths of her soles, teasing from ball to heel. That was just the buzzing, of curse. Then there was the other stuff, like the little feathery touches that slid between her outstretched toes, sliding along the little curves to find the most ticklish nooks and crannies of Seven's feet. There was also the bit of light scratching here and there on the sole, somehow always managing to stay out of the way of the other tickle tools that ran back and forth over her poor feet.
Seven was laughing wildly under the influence; her feet were still very ticklish, and the computer had done a good job of figuring out just how to tickle them as much as possible. Instinctively she fought to free them, but still she wished she'd fail, that the tickling wouldn't stop. She'd already come to miss the other recent tickle spots, which was a surprising turn. She wanted more... she wanted to be drowning in it, she wanted them to find new places on her body that she'd never known were ticklish and torment them non-stop!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Starbuck was practicing her snapshot now, dropping and rolling, as she aimed. "The wild dogs cry out in the night, as they grow restless longing for some solitary company..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
There was no longer any escape. Seven was in a laughing, twirling, endless realm of tickling. The various instruments and tools at the computer's disposal were everywhere, hitting every place as before with the same intensity - feet, breasts, ribs, and armpits. And to that symphony a new orchestra had been added. There were pinches and strokes all along her perfect bottom. There was light scratching across her taut belly. There was the surprising prods all along her flanks. There was the deep tickling massages along her inner thighs. There were the feathery wisps around her womanhood. If there was a ticklish spot on her body, the computer was going at it.
It was torture, so much so that she could hardly breathe. But there was no doubt that she didn't want this to stop, that she was as happy as she could possibly be.
“Seven?" the computer asked quietly, "do you love me?"
Somehow, amidst the laughter, she admitted that she did.
"Do you know who I am?" the computer asked. Seven shook her head, unable to summon another answer. "I am the Empire. Do you love the Empire?"
And Seven offered a resounding yes.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I know that I must do what's right," Starbuck sang, squeezing off three shots as she dodged. “Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti..."
--------------------------------------------------------------
It was all over, though she had no idea how long it had been over. She just stood in a room, looking at the back of her hands as if she'd never seen them before. She was nude, but that was inconsequential; if it was even pointed out, it was doubtful she'd have given it a second thought.
She was Seven. That would never change. But other than that, she was aware that she had been through a crucible of some kind, and now... now the way of thinking from before was gone. She knew that she had once been Borg, but it was a fleeting thing, like an adult may recall the shapes and images of a visit to a farm at the age of four. She didn't think in those terms any more. She thought like a human.
Seven touched the back of her hand. She felt like a human.
The door opened, and she looked up at people who some time before had been responsible for her capture and torture. There was no malice for them... they had been showing her love, she just hadn't really seen it.
"Are you ready to move to the next step, Seven?" Ronald Tetz asked. She nodded, and he smiled. "Then come with me." She took his hand and followed him out of the chamber.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"I seek to cure what's... deep inside..." Starbuck hesitated, as the gun dry-fired in her hand, the power pack empty. She stared down at it. The music played on, without words as she stared at it... at what she was supposed to fire at Mara, so they could leave Seven behind. She looked at it... at this tool she was planning to use for betrayal, because she had to answer to Ms. Danoob, no matter what... no matter what. And then she sang the final line, quietly, so quietly none could possibly have heard it. And as she did, she realized why that song had been on her mind since the moment she'd made that deal with the devil.
"Frightened of this thing that I've become."
