Doctor Who: Amy, Captured Ch. 04byKurokami©
Amy's first thought upon waking was of just how tired she was of waking up naked in her cell. Her second thought was of just how tired she was in general. She felt as though her skin was paper thin, and that any strenuous movement would tear her open.
When she tried to lift her head, she found that moving at all made her shake and tremble in a rather disconcerting way, and she laid back down quickly to stop the feeling. In the brief glimpse of the cell she had seen, Sander featured prominently. He was sitting down at the foot of the bed, back leaning heavily against the wall, head tilted up towards the ceiling. He didn't look great; his eyes were darkly ringed in a way that offset the otherwise sickly pallor of his skin. He turned wearily to look at her.
'Well, well... You're back among the living,' he said weakly. 'That's good.'
Amy's eyes narrowed as the hazy recollections of her last conscious experience drifted through her mind, as substantial as fog. Even so, certain things stood out; Shimizu turning the Arclight up to eleven. Sander stepping in to stop it. The actual tactile sensation of the Arclight when it was fully unleashed. None of it was entirely pleasant.
'You?' She said in a quiet, weak voice. 'You saved me?'
Sander nodded, 'Yes. I'm sorry. Shimizu's gone. I sort of banished her. I guess she was more unstable than we realized. She would have killed you, if we... if we had been delayed a second more.' Sander lowered his head into the palm of one hand. 'I'm sorry.'
'You're SORRY? Why? I thought you wanted me hurt?'
'I never wanted you dead, Amy,' Sander sighed. 'That'd be just as bad as what... It'd be bad. I've dismantled the Arclight system and collapsed the signal field that targets you. I shouldn't have put you through that. I'm sorry.'
There was silence, as Sander closed his eyes and swayed in his seat, clearly at the mercy of some kind of internal conflict. Amy regarded him expectantly; it was clear that she had missed a huge chunk of information while she had been out, and she wasn't about to say anything to Sander right now to assuage any guilt he may have been feeling over what had happened to her. Suddenly, he raised his head again and stood up.
'You've been sleeping for two straight days. Well, for a forty-eight hour period, there's no day/night cycle here. You're likely to be very weak, but that's natural, given what you went through. You'll probably want to keep sleeping, but you need to resist that urge, for now. You need to eat something, and get some clothes on. We'll be leaving soon.'
'Leaving? Where?' Amy felt a familiar dread growing within her, the same dread she had felt every day of her captivity. Whatever Sander was planning would undoubtedly be unpleasant.
'We're going on vacation, Amy,' Sander clapped his hands together, attempting to muster some form of energy. 'The Doctor's coming here, he's pissed that Shimizu tried to kill you. We're running away. Just temporarily. Mara's gone on ahead, she's setting up some new relays to misdirect him. Anyway, if we're not here when he gets here we doubt he'll come back later. The plan should be back on course in a few days, a week on the outside, but until then we can have some fun while we flee.'
'Where are we going?' Amy quavered.
'Sorry, Amy. Can't tell you, but we need to leave in an hour. You know where everything is, but if you need any help, then please-' His dark eyes captured her own, and there was genuine concern there, '-call out. I'll help you.'
Sander left the room before Amy could say anything else. She sighed, and swept her legs off the bed. So, they were running away? That was interesting. Finally, a real hope of rescue.
Of course, before all that Amy still had to contend with her recalcitrant body. She had felt strange while keeping still, but when she tried to walk Amy realized exactly what Sander had meant by "very weak."
Her legs simply wouldn't support her. At least, not on their own. She found that if she leaned most of her weight against any available sturdy surface, she could drag herself along. Her muscles felt as thought they had liquefied, and she wondered what kind of damage Shimizu's torture had done to her, and whether it would be permanent. Either way, she knew she couldn't continue like this. Swallowing nervously, she called out for Sander.
The door slid open almost immediately. It seemed that he had been waiting outside. Someone was feeling guilty...
'I need your help...' Amy mumbled. 'I can barely move on my own.'
'Of course,' Sander moved, putting an arm over her bare shoulder and guiding her gently back to a seated position. 'You should be back to normal by tomorrow at the latest. If you take care of yourself, that is. We'll have about a day in transit, so you can relax for a while.'
'Thank Christ...' Amy exhaled. Her greatest fear was that Shimizu had done something to her brain that couldn't be reversed. She didn't know how the Arclight system worked, but nothing in her experience with it so far had been incredibly pleasant.
'Here,' Sander tossed a bundle of clothes onto the bed. 'These seemed a little easier to get into than... Uh, all the other stuff...' He gestured at the offending closet. It was odd; now, all the slick confidence and happy energy had flowed out of him, leaving an exhausted-looking awkward person in his place. Amy wondered exactly how bad he felt about the other day. He helped her to put on the loose-fitting clothes, but every time he touched her he sort of flinched, as though she might shatter like glass.
'So...' Amy began as Sander slid a large, billowy shirt over her head. 'You said you switched off the Arclight?' She couldn't help but sound hopeful.
Sander shook his head, 'Not just switched off. I broke down the field. It's gone for good.'
'How can I trust you?' Amy pouted.
'You can't usually, but you can on this. There's no way for me to restart the Arclight. I'd need to reformat the system, take a completely new template of your brain, code an entirely new strike program and put the signal field back up. I should never have used it in the first place. You could have been killed.' He looked away.
'Look, we'd better get going. We're wasting time, which is... confusing, since the guy chasing us has a time machine.'
'You. He's chasing you. He's rescuing me,' Amy said in a low voice. Sander frowned.
'Not if I have anything to say about it. Now, come on,' He took her hand and, supporting her bodily the whole way, the two of them left the cell. They passed through numerous identical hallways, under countless identical fluorescent lights. Sander had constructed his base from uniformly constructed pieces; it wasn't much to look at, but it didn't need to be. It kept in the air and all the machinery ran just fine, that was all that mattered.
Ultimately, they reached a large, heavy steel door, studded with rivets. Sander leaned Amy against the wall and, with a grunt, twisted the handle and pushed in with his shoulder. The door opened with the sound of metal squealing against metal. Amy was moved into the airlock beyond, and the door was closed.
Sander moved to the opposite door, 'Yeah, it's a pain in the ass,' he explained. 'But it's better than opening a door out into space.'
The other door opened out onto the interior of a shuttle, but not a very good one. That said, since Amy had lived all her life in a time devoid of space travel any kind of spacecraft was impressive. In Sander's mind, the shuttle was entirely utilitarian, just a way to get planetside if he ever needed to. For Amy, it was entirely futuristic because, well, it was the future.
The shuttle was little more than a white box illuminated by strip lighting at floor level, with a bank of seats at either side. Two black leather pilot's chairs were bolted to the floor at the opposite end of the ship, each looking over an array of controls and a large screen that was currently blank.
Sander guided Amy to a seat and strapped her in before striding across the floor to the pilot's seat.
'Be with you in a second,' He called over his shoulder, swiveling his chair to face the controls. He wriggled his fingers. Despite all that had happened to him, Sander was still a technician at heart. Space travel, robotics, any technology made his mind spin with possibilities. His hands descended, working to the beat of furious typing.
In this day and age, even cheap ships like this one had automated options for easy trips. Mara had been conscientious enough to program the shuttle with coordinates to follow her planetside. She was the communications expert; she knew where to go to best fool the Doctor with her startling array of wireless relays and gadgetry that Sander could only guess at. He had laughed when she had told him where she intended to go, and then grinned evilly when he realized what she was suggesting. Mara could be incredibly evil, but she had some fantastic ideas.
The city of Chroma, planetary capital of Theros. He had been there once before, almost three years ago to the day. He had been distracted with his plotting then, but he had to admit that the place was incredible. At night the entire city glowed with neon light. And right now Chroma was in the grips of its biggest celebration. They would have fun there.
The ship disengaged from the airlock with a series of mechanical noises, the slight force of acceleration pushing the occupants back in their seats. Sander yawned as the ship slid away into the darkness. There were no windows, which would be decorative but ultimately useless. Excepting the screen, there was no way to see out. It didn't matter; Sander didn't intend to spend his time staring out into utter blackness.
'Okay, we're off,' He said, sliding out of his chair and heading to the aft of the ship. 'Now, I simply must get some sleep. Mara's been gone and, what with you being unconscious and the base needing constant attention, I've been up continuously for two days.'
'That's... dedicated,' Amy sighed.
'Yeah, well... Don't get any cute ideas while I'm sleeping. You don't know how to pilot a spacecraft, so anything you do to the controls will probably kill us both. Besides, they're isomorphic, so it won't work for you. There's food in the strongbox,' He pointed at a large metal box that was bolted to the floor. 'Also, you need your rest too, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to sleep yourself.' He grinned, 'Don't worry; I won't do anything untoward if you do sleep. I don't need to.'
Sander dropped heavily into the seat opposite Amy, strapped himself in, and relaxed. It was amazing what two continuous days of sleeplessness will do to a person; Sander could feel pieces of his brain floating away. The ship could handle itself for the day of flight at near light speed. Besides, it would wake him if it needed him.
Eventually, the ship did wake him, with an insistent, low buzzing tone issuing from the command console. Sander yawned, his hand groping blindly for the seatbelt release catch.
'Good lord...' He mumbled, pulling himself stiffly from his seat. Amy slept opposite him, looking oddly peaceful. Here she was, en route to an unknown alien world at the behest of a pair of kidnappers, and she was out cold. Maybe she had taken a bigger hit than he realized.
He drifted over to the console and switched on the screen. Their destination dominated the image, a sea of sparkling lights blinking endlessly across the surface of the soot-black planet. Theros was a planet that was always awake; there was always someone there willing to pay for what the vendors were selling, as distasteful as it was.
Theros had started out as a separatist colony that had voluntarily left the control of the Terran government and set up shop in a then-unoccupied corner of the galaxy. Of course, being a new colony with no concrete, enforceable laws, it attracted a large criminal element willing to pay for asylum from whatever it was that they were running from.
In the face of this, the new Theros government had two options; on one hand, they could accept a reputation as a criminal haven, with all the implications that had. Evidently, this option had not interested them.
Instead, they had opted to transform Theros into a non-stop commercial and entertainment hub where anything-and more importantly, anyone- was for sale. The criminal element still flocked to the place, particularly Chroma, but now they came to permanently set up shop, driving an intense tourist trade. There were plenty of people willing to pay large sums of cash for things they couldn't get on law-abiding Terran worlds.
And Theros was there, with a smile and an outstretched hand. Sander could appreciate that kind of barefaced business dealings. Compared to business on Terran worlds, this method seemed almost... honest.
Sander set the shuttle into landing mode, gained the correct clearance to land in one of the commercial spaceports, and stepped back out into the hold. His foot kicked out, clanging loudly against the hull. Amy jerked awake, eyes shooting open in a daze.
'Wake up,' Sander said. 'We're coming in to land. You need to get ready.' His hand went to her seatbelt, unclasping it quickly and lifting Amy to her feet. She was able to stand under her own power now, which was a relief to both of them. Having to spend the entire trip clinging to Sander did not strike either of them as particularly fun.
'What do you mean, "get ready?" Amy asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.
Sander grinned, 'We're going to attend a party, Amy. A huge one. You can't go out looking like that!' He gestured to her loose, colorless clothes.
'A party, huh?' She replied flatly.
Sander nodded emphatically. What he called a party was actually a Chroma institution, a citywide festival to celebrate the founding on the city. Of course, since Chroma was essentially a huge, city-sized, neon-tinted brothel, this festival was somewhat more debauched than others.
Sander gestured to a large duffel bag that he had stowed to one side of the hold, 'There's some stuff for you in there. Put it on.'
'Amy, you're still wearing the collar. No arguments, or I will use it, y'know?'
'Alright...' Amy sighed. She was becoming very familiar with this particular defeated sigh.
Fishing around in the bag revealed that Sander was done with comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. In fact, he may have been done with clothes altogether; if Amy had to ascribe a name to the contents of the bag, that name would be "underwear," and even that was dubious.
She wheeled around, 'Oh, now come on!' She snapped. 'You can't expect me to go out in public dressed in these!'
'You bet I can!' Sander stared back blankly. 'Just watch. Command: Put that shit on, Amy.'
Amy whined as her body complied with the order. That damned collar!
Sander had picked this outfit- if one could call it that- especially for this occasion. There would be a lot of people on the streets of Chroma, and a lot of them would be traveling with sex slaves. Sander intended to stand out. Well... He intended for Amy to stand out.
She stripped off her loose-fitting clothes, barely even conscious of her audience any more. Sander had to resist his impulse to simply bend her over and fuck her right there, but he knew that it would be worth it in the end. Patience would yield some incredible rewards, here in Chroma. It wouldn't take long for the shuttle to descend through the actually rather thin atmosphere to the surface of the planet itself, but in the midst of the descent itself he could barely feel it. Stabilizer systems: gotta love 'em.
There was a reason Mara had chosen Chroma. Sexual slavery was entirely legal there, operating as a form of business transaction. One just had to remember that Theros had no traditional legal system. If you were careful, and made sure that someone on the outside knew that you were there and could come look for you if you disappeared, the planet was the holiday destination of choice for a certain class of decadent person. Chroma also had facilities there that were far more... specialized, than Sander's asteroid base. He grinned, almost salivating at the prospect.
Amy turned, sheer fabric fluttering around her, and stared defiantly at Sander, hands on her hips. She looked even better than Sander had imagined; clad in a gauzy, light blue nightie, pale skin glowing beneath the transparent material. The slightly darker blue of her bra accentuated her breasts, and her panties practically flowed across the smooth curve of her hips. It was only becoming harder to resist the urge to bend her over the seats.
'That... isn't everything, Amy,' Sander said haltingly, shaking his head to remove the prurient thoughts that were settling in.
'I know!' Amy exclaimed hotly. 'But I'm wondering what kind of party requires that I dress myself like this, and wear that other stuff!'
Sander tilted his head to one side, not really understanding the question, 'Uh, an awesome one?' He answered. 'Seriously, though. Finish it up.'
Amy gave a wordless, frustrated growl as her eyes misted up. This was too much!
Her hand delved back into the bag, producing the objects that had so repulsed her. One, a large, red leather collar, she clipped around her neck. A leash dangled from it, down between her breasts.
'I get the leash,' Amy hissed through clenched teeth. 'Kinky, Sander. Really. But I wouldn't even know how to begin using this thing.' It flashed white in her hand. 'What kind of party is this?'
Sander laughed, standing up to help her, 'Think of it as Mardi Gras Plus, okay? Only kind of sleazy and weird. But also fun!' He grinned.
Sander took the mask from Amy, his free hand gathering up her long tresses of ginger hair and winding them closer to the back of her head. The straps descended as he raised the white mask to her face, catching up her hair and pinning it in place.
The faceplate of the mask was... interesting. The interior featured a dark mesh that covered the eyeholes, making it hard to discern anything particular about the environment. Worse still, the mouth featured a sculpted cock gag that seemed to grow out of the mask in a single, uninterrupted piece. Amy opened her mouth obediently as the artificial member pressed against her lips; she realized that non-compliance was pointless. Even so, she gave a startled "mmph!" as the gag slid over her tongue, pressing it against the floor of her mouth. It filled her jaw, just barely missing the back of her throat and hence her gag reflex; the stretched position was vaguely uncomfortable, probably exactly as Sander had intended.
Finally, he stepped behind her, gripping her wrists firmly and pulling them up into the small of her back, where he locked them together in a pair of steel cuffs. A chain dangled from these new restraints, which Sander attached to the back of Amy's collar, keeping her arms pinioned in such a way as to make her muscles stretch and ache.
He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Dressed like this, Amy looked sexy, without having any kind of identifying features. The mask bundled her distinctive curls up quite convincingly, and covered her face enough to render her completely unrecognizable.
Sander nodded, satisfied. It would serve its purpose; he knew that the Doctor would find his lab, it was an inevitability. Without anyone there to maintain it, the asteroid would lose power and air, making it an interesting endeavor for anyone to get back inside if Sander didn't want them to. But he was the Doctor; he would get inside. And when he did, he would know where Sander had run to. There wasn't any point in deleting the computer's data; he could recover it.
The Doctor would know that he was taking Amy to Chroma, and he would follow. The only way to be sure that they wouldn't be discovered was complete anonymity. At least, until they had gotten off the streets and into the privacy of the club Mara had gotten them into. They could take their time then, until the Doctor found Mara's false relay and left on another wild goose chase.