Prologue Part 6
Part 1 Part 7
Part 2 Part 8
Part 3 Part 9
Part 4 Part 10
Part 5 Part 11
Part 12
Ms. Danoob observed the footage of Mara and Seven in silence. Ms. Harris, her aide, noted the video; she’d watched it earlier. “Seven of Nine’s confirmed our suspicions regarding her resistance,” she remarked to her superior.
“Yes, I know,” Ms. Danoob commented without turning away. “I was anticipating that. She is willful, and she desires atonement; she won’t give it up easily, but she will all the same.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ms. Harris said. “What of their plotting?”
“It’s of no importance,” Ms. Danoob said. “Seven is very intelligent and Mara is cunning, but the fact remains they’ve gone too far now; they’re devoted to each other.”
“And that is the weakness you intend to exploit?”
Ms. Danoob turned to face her. “It is an asset I intend to exploit,” she said. “But do not demean it by treating it as a vulnerability.”
“You becoming a romantic, ma’am?” Ms. Harris asked with a lopsided grin.
“I recognize its place within the human psyche,” Ms. Danoob said. “And if we’re to succeed we need to understand what goes on inside their heads. Any one of these four could reduce Crossroads Facility to slag if we slipped up.”
“It will not happen,” Ms. Harris said.
“It will not happen if we respect what it is we’re dealing with here,” Ms. Danoob said. “Make no mistake, we are playing with fire here, and we must always remember to respect it. Tamed, and it transforms our society from hairless apes into manipulators of nature itself. But when we lose control, it can reduce an entire city to ruin.” She turned back to Mara and Seven. “What they have will benefit them and us; it will make us all stronger. Do not call such a thing a weakness.”
Ms. Harris was quiet. “Of course, ma’am.”
Ms. Danoob switched off the monitor. “But enough of the Hand and the Borg, I should really check in on our two other guests.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Consciousness slowly returned with a creepy discomfort, and when it fully coalesced Starbuck knew the reason for that feeling. She was locked in the Block; she should have expected it, given how her other sessions had gone. She pounded on it a few times in frustration, but it was very solid; she didn't have much hope.
"Kara," the voice said, and Starbuck glowered at the emptiness. "Glad to see you're awake. It's time for you to answer a few questions."
"I already told you everything!" she shouted in frustration. "This is pointless!"
"We'll be the judges of that," the voice replied with neither rancor nor sympathy. "You recovered and piloted a Cylon Raider; we want to know how it works."
"And I told you everything I was able to figure out," she said with clear impatience. "
"It's not enough."
"Well I can't tell you what I don't know! Ask the fraking Cylons, they built the damn things!"
"I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us."
"Gods dammit!" Starbuck screamed. "What does it take to get through to you?!!"
"We need answers, Kara."
"I can't help you!"
"No, Kara," the voice said sadly. "You can't help yourself."
There was the unpleasant hum of the Block warming up. “Dammit, get me out of this!” she cried.
“We’ll start at level two, I think,” the voice said. “Please consider cooperation, Kara... we really don’t enjoy this.”
Starbuck stiffened as she felt the first touches. Oh no, the feet. She should have known they’d start there, where she was so damn ticklish! She began snickering as a probe drew little circles in the centers of her soles, just slow enough to draw it out, just quick enough to tickle like crazy! After a short while they began to expand outward in a spiral, taking in more and more of the sole while Starbuck fought to resist the sensations. As always, it was hopeless; the tickling always was impossible for her to ignore. A few seconds passed, and a second set of probes on each foot began, and she screwed her eyes shut and fought to endure. That was what these sessions were always about, the endurance. There was no way she could be harmed by this, the question was how much her will was going to crumble under their ministrations, because if it started, there was no telling where it might bring her. She could wind up some brainwashed slave or something, and she didn’t fight her way out of the darker places of Caprica and resist Cylon annihilation just to crumple before mere tickling.
Yet, as the four probes worked over her feet, it was hard to attach the word “mere” to the sensations they produced. It cut through her resolve like a blade and struck the core of her being, where the squirming girl always was hidden under the tough façade. Anything that could do that wasn’t “mere” anything.
A third probe began working each foot now, this time focusing more upon the toe area. They stroked along the base of each one, or teased the area in between, and Starbuck’s laughs had become deep and constant now, and she held her head in her hands as she tried to resist. Having her arms freed really did make this even more torturous; she was just as helpless as she always was, but she didn’t feel helpless with her hands at the ready, it messed with her head. Which, of course, was probably exactly the point. But she couldn’t really think about it; focusing on any thought simply proved impossible, the tickling pulled her mind away from higher thought and focused its attention on her helpless feet.
A small cry escaped as she felt a downy end slide into her navel. “Oh no, no NO! HAHAHAHA!!!” she squealed as it began spinning inside her bellybutton, tickling her inhumanly. Inhumanly... of course it was inhuman, it was machines tickling her, no different than when she was in the hands of a Cylon, except that these were an extension of a human will rather than operating of their own volition. The probes on her feet, the feathery probe in her navel, they gained nothing by tickling Starbuck out of her mind, they only did it because someone else saw fit to turn them on a member of their own species. That was the thing that always drove her mad; Cylons never turned on each other the way humans would. Number Six wouldn’t tickle torture Boomer, but other people had no problem driving Starbuck out of her skin with this constant, omnipresent tickling that she just wished she could get them to stop. She began pleading, desperate, because she knew it was going to get worse, knew that they were easing her into the entire affair, and she couldn’t handle this stuff any more. The walls were crumbling, damn them. Fight it!
Probes started stroking the backs of her thighs, and she knew she’d finally met something she couldn’t fight. Her own physical vulnerabilities were something she couldn’t hope to conquer. She was ticklish, damn ticklish, and it was a weapon that would be exploited until they got what they wanted from her. She’d still fight, but as she laughed her head off she knew down deep that it was a fight that she would ultimately lose. She’d beaten the Cylons, but these machines could beat her, because someone far more devious than any robot commanded them.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Lara let out a deep and frustrated sigh. The rack... it always came back to the rack. Curse her ticklish body and making her worst spots so easily accessible by this infernal device! “Lara?” came the voice. “You’re stubborn refusal to cooperate is growing quite tiresome.”
“I’m not interested,” Lara said sharply. Whoever ran things here didn’t have much of a flare beyond that of the typical megalomaniacs she’d dealt with, but there still were signs that they weren’t stupid. She couldn’t afford to underestimate them, or else the odds of her escaping would diminish.
“Very well,” the voice said with a sound of resignation.
Panels slid back on the rack, and instruments emerged. Lara closed her eyes and stiffened her body, her iron clad will standing ready to weather this latest assault. She would be embarrassed, there was no doubt of that, but she would do her damndest to not give a single inch she didn’t have to.
The feathers started in her armpits, and she went from giggling to chuckling to laughter within twenty seconds. She never bothered fighting the laughter; she’d have better luck trying to give up blinking than to stop laughing when tickled. Pour your energy into the laughter, she told herself even as she shook under the tickling touches. Give it all an outlet so you can find a way to cope! More feathers started on the bottoms of her feet, and she began roaring now. They weren’t playing with her, that was certain; this was an effective assault on her worst zones and that meant...
Lara began bellowing with laughter as they began stroking around her breasts, now hitting three bad spots simultaneously. Control yourself, she said even as she was screaming, don’t-
“STOP! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! NO NO NONONONO-HAHAHAHA!!!”
Nope, it was too much. They teased along the ball of her foot and the arch. They swirled around her nipples and stroked the sides of her breasts. They drew along the length and breadth of her underarms. They tickled her, and Lara was unable to resist them, or the desperation it drove her to. “NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE HAHAHAHAHA!!!”
Feathers began tracing along her taut belly while more teased around her pubic area, but while they assaulted her three worst spots these were just so much background noise. Lara screamed and cursed and struggled even though her body was stretched out to its limit, without even the slightest room for it to give. She smacked the back of her head against the boards of the rack in an attempt to let out her frustrations; if she didn’t she’d start begging, and she couldn’t have that. Hold on! “LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN THING! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” She trembled with laughter. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” Internally she winced at the words. Nice one, Lara; and you accuse others of melodrama? Just call them a “fiend” now, then you can put on a costume and fight crime.
“Lara,” the voice said, speaking up so as to be heard over the laughter, “you can end this, you know. Just help us and you’ll make the tickling stop.”
Lara held her head back. “HAHAHAHAHA NOT A CHANCE!!! HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!”
“You’ll gain nothing by fighting us, Lara.”
“BUGGER OFF! YE-HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Lara began really laughing now as the tickling intensified, going after her armpits, feet, and breasts with even more vigor than before. Her eyes were sealed shut even as the tears escaped them, her body turned nearly crimson, but still inside she hung on. She was Lady Croft; she wasn’t going to let them win. They could tickle her until she was a complete pitiful mess, but she wouldn’t knuckle under for them. If the forces of nature couldn’t destroy her, no force of humanity had a chance.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ms. Danoob tapped her lips as she watched Lara on the monitor. "She's resistant," she commented, "even by the standards of the others. I wonder if we moved her into phase 2 to quickly."
Ms. Harris looked her over. "I think she'll crack, ma'am. Just give her time."
Ms. Danoob stared for a while longer. "No, that would be a mistake. We need to up the ante, as it were. Show her the seriousness of the situation, and why she had best cooperate."
"The Block, ma'am?" Ms. Harris asked.
"No," Ms. Danoob said. "We need to take more drastic steps." She tapped her lips again as she watched the monitor. "Tomorrow she goes into the boa."
Part 1 Part 7
Part 2 Part 8
Part 3 Part 9
Part 4 Part 10
Part 5 Part 11
Part 12
Ms. Danoob observed the footage of Mara and Seven in silence. Ms. Harris, her aide, noted the video; she’d watched it earlier. “Seven of Nine’s confirmed our suspicions regarding her resistance,” she remarked to her superior.
“Yes, I know,” Ms. Danoob commented without turning away. “I was anticipating that. She is willful, and she desires atonement; she won’t give it up easily, but she will all the same.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ms. Harris said. “What of their plotting?”
“It’s of no importance,” Ms. Danoob said. “Seven is very intelligent and Mara is cunning, but the fact remains they’ve gone too far now; they’re devoted to each other.”
“And that is the weakness you intend to exploit?”
Ms. Danoob turned to face her. “It is an asset I intend to exploit,” she said. “But do not demean it by treating it as a vulnerability.”
“You becoming a romantic, ma’am?” Ms. Harris asked with a lopsided grin.
“I recognize its place within the human psyche,” Ms. Danoob said. “And if we’re to succeed we need to understand what goes on inside their heads. Any one of these four could reduce Crossroads Facility to slag if we slipped up.”
“It will not happen,” Ms. Harris said.
“It will not happen if we respect what it is we’re dealing with here,” Ms. Danoob said. “Make no mistake, we are playing with fire here, and we must always remember to respect it. Tamed, and it transforms our society from hairless apes into manipulators of nature itself. But when we lose control, it can reduce an entire city to ruin.” She turned back to Mara and Seven. “What they have will benefit them and us; it will make us all stronger. Do not call such a thing a weakness.”
Ms. Harris was quiet. “Of course, ma’am.”
Ms. Danoob switched off the monitor. “But enough of the Hand and the Borg, I should really check in on our two other guests.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
Consciousness slowly returned with a creepy discomfort, and when it fully coalesced Starbuck knew the reason for that feeling. She was locked in the Block; she should have expected it, given how her other sessions had gone. She pounded on it a few times in frustration, but it was very solid; she didn't have much hope.
"Kara," the voice said, and Starbuck glowered at the emptiness. "Glad to see you're awake. It's time for you to answer a few questions."
"I already told you everything!" she shouted in frustration. "This is pointless!"
"We'll be the judges of that," the voice replied with neither rancor nor sympathy. "You recovered and piloted a Cylon Raider; we want to know how it works."
"And I told you everything I was able to figure out," she said with clear impatience. "
"It's not enough."
"Well I can't tell you what I don't know! Ask the fraking Cylons, they built the damn things!"
"I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us."
"Gods dammit!" Starbuck screamed. "What does it take to get through to you?!!"
"We need answers, Kara."
"I can't help you!"
"No, Kara," the voice said sadly. "You can't help yourself."
There was the unpleasant hum of the Block warming up. “Dammit, get me out of this!” she cried.
“We’ll start at level two, I think,” the voice said. “Please consider cooperation, Kara... we really don’t enjoy this.”
Starbuck stiffened as she felt the first touches. Oh no, the feet. She should have known they’d start there, where she was so damn ticklish! She began snickering as a probe drew little circles in the centers of her soles, just slow enough to draw it out, just quick enough to tickle like crazy! After a short while they began to expand outward in a spiral, taking in more and more of the sole while Starbuck fought to resist the sensations. As always, it was hopeless; the tickling always was impossible for her to ignore. A few seconds passed, and a second set of probes on each foot began, and she screwed her eyes shut and fought to endure. That was what these sessions were always about, the endurance. There was no way she could be harmed by this, the question was how much her will was going to crumble under their ministrations, because if it started, there was no telling where it might bring her. She could wind up some brainwashed slave or something, and she didn’t fight her way out of the darker places of Caprica and resist Cylon annihilation just to crumple before mere tickling.
Yet, as the four probes worked over her feet, it was hard to attach the word “mere” to the sensations they produced. It cut through her resolve like a blade and struck the core of her being, where the squirming girl always was hidden under the tough façade. Anything that could do that wasn’t “mere” anything.
A third probe began working each foot now, this time focusing more upon the toe area. They stroked along the base of each one, or teased the area in between, and Starbuck’s laughs had become deep and constant now, and she held her head in her hands as she tried to resist. Having her arms freed really did make this even more torturous; she was just as helpless as she always was, but she didn’t feel helpless with her hands at the ready, it messed with her head. Which, of course, was probably exactly the point. But she couldn’t really think about it; focusing on any thought simply proved impossible, the tickling pulled her mind away from higher thought and focused its attention on her helpless feet.
A small cry escaped as she felt a downy end slide into her navel. “Oh no, no NO! HAHAHAHA!!!” she squealed as it began spinning inside her bellybutton, tickling her inhumanly. Inhumanly... of course it was inhuman, it was machines tickling her, no different than when she was in the hands of a Cylon, except that these were an extension of a human will rather than operating of their own volition. The probes on her feet, the feathery probe in her navel, they gained nothing by tickling Starbuck out of her mind, they only did it because someone else saw fit to turn them on a member of their own species. That was the thing that always drove her mad; Cylons never turned on each other the way humans would. Number Six wouldn’t tickle torture Boomer, but other people had no problem driving Starbuck out of her skin with this constant, omnipresent tickling that she just wished she could get them to stop. She began pleading, desperate, because she knew it was going to get worse, knew that they were easing her into the entire affair, and she couldn’t handle this stuff any more. The walls were crumbling, damn them. Fight it!
Probes started stroking the backs of her thighs, and she knew she’d finally met something she couldn’t fight. Her own physical vulnerabilities were something she couldn’t hope to conquer. She was ticklish, damn ticklish, and it was a weapon that would be exploited until they got what they wanted from her. She’d still fight, but as she laughed her head off she knew down deep that it was a fight that she would ultimately lose. She’d beaten the Cylons, but these machines could beat her, because someone far more devious than any robot commanded them.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Lara let out a deep and frustrated sigh. The rack... it always came back to the rack. Curse her ticklish body and making her worst spots so easily accessible by this infernal device! “Lara?” came the voice. “You’re stubborn refusal to cooperate is growing quite tiresome.”
“I’m not interested,” Lara said sharply. Whoever ran things here didn’t have much of a flare beyond that of the typical megalomaniacs she’d dealt with, but there still were signs that they weren’t stupid. She couldn’t afford to underestimate them, or else the odds of her escaping would diminish.
“Very well,” the voice said with a sound of resignation.
Panels slid back on the rack, and instruments emerged. Lara closed her eyes and stiffened her body, her iron clad will standing ready to weather this latest assault. She would be embarrassed, there was no doubt of that, but she would do her damndest to not give a single inch she didn’t have to.
The feathers started in her armpits, and she went from giggling to chuckling to laughter within twenty seconds. She never bothered fighting the laughter; she’d have better luck trying to give up blinking than to stop laughing when tickled. Pour your energy into the laughter, she told herself even as she shook under the tickling touches. Give it all an outlet so you can find a way to cope! More feathers started on the bottoms of her feet, and she began roaring now. They weren’t playing with her, that was certain; this was an effective assault on her worst zones and that meant...
Lara began bellowing with laughter as they began stroking around her breasts, now hitting three bad spots simultaneously. Control yourself, she said even as she was screaming, don’t-
“STOP! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! NO NO NONONONO-HAHAHAHA!!!”
Nope, it was too much. They teased along the ball of her foot and the arch. They swirled around her nipples and stroked the sides of her breasts. They drew along the length and breadth of her underarms. They tickled her, and Lara was unable to resist them, or the desperation it drove her to. “NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE HAHAHAHAHA!!!”
Feathers began tracing along her taut belly while more teased around her pubic area, but while they assaulted her three worst spots these were just so much background noise. Lara screamed and cursed and struggled even though her body was stretched out to its limit, without even the slightest room for it to give. She smacked the back of her head against the boards of the rack in an attempt to let out her frustrations; if she didn’t she’d start begging, and she couldn’t have that. Hold on! “LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN THING! WAHAHAHAHA!!!” She trembled with laughter. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” Internally she winced at the words. Nice one, Lara; and you accuse others of melodrama? Just call them a “fiend” now, then you can put on a costume and fight crime.
“Lara,” the voice said, speaking up so as to be heard over the laughter, “you can end this, you know. Just help us and you’ll make the tickling stop.”
Lara held her head back. “HAHAHAHAHA NOT A CHANCE!!! HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!”
“You’ll gain nothing by fighting us, Lara.”
“BUGGER OFF! YE-HEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Lara began really laughing now as the tickling intensified, going after her armpits, feet, and breasts with even more vigor than before. Her eyes were sealed shut even as the tears escaped them, her body turned nearly crimson, but still inside she hung on. She was Lady Croft; she wasn’t going to let them win. They could tickle her until she was a complete pitiful mess, but she wouldn’t knuckle under for them. If the forces of nature couldn’t destroy her, no force of humanity had a chance.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ms. Danoob tapped her lips as she watched Lara on the monitor. "She's resistant," she commented, "even by the standards of the others. I wonder if we moved her into phase 2 to quickly."
Ms. Harris looked her over. "I think she'll crack, ma'am. Just give her time."
Ms. Danoob stared for a while longer. "No, that would be a mistake. We need to up the ante, as it were. Show her the seriousness of the situation, and why she had best cooperate."
"The Block, ma'am?" Ms. Harris asked.
"No," Ms. Danoob said. "We need to take more drastic steps." She tapped her lips again as she watched the monitor. "Tomorrow she goes into the boa."
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