The hours dragged on with ever-increasing weariness. Heratrix gave up her detective work around the cell, after deciding that there was nothing to be done, and leant up against the wall to close her eyes. Most of them followed her example, Skreem and Gurgaston resting together, and the Captain's lights out long before. After a while, Rokoara found herself without company to pass the time.

Her horns itched again. She scratched them before realising she was scratching in time with a song that had decided to get lodged in her head. She didn't know where she had heard the tune before. Maybe she had made it up. Sometimes it was as if someone else had put it in there for her.

'Can't sleep?'

The Kakr looked over to Kris, who looked as if she was trying to hold back a smile. Rokoara wondered if, like Skreem, she sometimes tried to make light of a situation to hide her fear. 'I'm not sure I'd want to, anyway.'

Kris nodded. She took a finger and hooked it around one of the pipes, twirling it like a shy schoolgirl playing with her hair. 'I would. Might be the last time you do.'

'We'll get out of here,' Rokoara said. 'We've managed it before, and we'll manage it again.'

'Is that what you do? Run around the Empire, piss people off, and then get other people caught up in the crossfire?'

Rokoara looked at her feet. As their hooded captors searched the ship, they'd also be finding bodies. Limbs tosses against the sides of walls, torsos without legs, blood splattered up the walls. How many lives had been lost in that fight, all for them to end up thrown in a cell waiting for their own execution? Innocent lives that had nothing to do with their fight.

She'd been with the guys for a few years now, and though none of them had ever taken the hit, she'd seen more than her fair share of reminders of the fragility of mortality. She managed to push it all back, file it away in some dark little corner of her subconscious where she didn't have to face her guilt. Sometimes, though, you could only stash so much away before it refused to be buried.

Kris waited for an answer and then, when she realised she wouldn't receive one, turned away to her own thoughts. The constant drone of the ship spoke her words for her. The Captain slumbered uneasily at her side, and the world passed into uneasy quiet once more. After a while, Rokoara found her eyelids drooping over and blotting out her vision.

The slumber wasn't to last. Heavy boots stomped down the hallway outside towards them. Kris and the Captain rose to their feet in agitation; the troublemakers remained seated in defiance.

The energy wall dissolved and six guards flanked the Silver Commander. The two who had been guarding the cell fell back into the ranks, next to the guards who had been watching them not long before.

'You're out of luck,' the Silver Commander said to the room. 'We haven't found what we're looking for on your little freighter. And you know what that means.'

'Means I can spit on your little mask there and it won't change what happens to me.'

Gurgaston clamped a hand over Skreem's mouth. The Silver Commander brushed past the others in the group and planted her large metal boots solidly in front of Gurgaston and his ward. In the commander's dark shadow, Skreem's eyes flickered just a little.

'I'm going to take you to one side and have you tortured for a decade or so before I decide to end your miserable life.'

'Rattled you that badly, have I?'

The commander reached down and picked Skreem up by the throat. Gurgaston roared. He tried to leap to his feet before half a dozen muzzles went to his chest and he backed down, fangs bared.

Skreem kicked her legs and clawed at the woman's gauntlet. She gargled for breath.

'Where is the artefact, Aldesarian?'

'We don't have it,' Heratrix said from the other side of the room.

The Silver Commander snapped her head to the source of the sound with the sharpness of an android. She opened her hand and Skreem dropped into Gurgaston's lap again, choking and gasping.

'I worked that much out for myself,' said the commander. 'I asked where it is, not where it isn't.' The Silver Commander stepped up to Heratrix, who rose to meet her opponent. Now it was the Commander's turn to feel a little intimidated. There was no emotion in the woman's eyes, not the faintest light of fear or worry.

'If you're that intelligent, you should have also worked out that we're not about to tell you.'

'You mock me?'

Rokoara laughed. 'The 'Trix doesn't have the emotional capacity to mock.'

It was faster than a bolt of lightning. One moment she was sat upright, and the next saw Rokoara sprawled across the floor with blood spurting from a smashed jaw. Kris and the Captain rushed to her side. 'Are you alright?' asked the older man.

Rokoara spat red. 'No, but it was worth it.'

The Silver Commander retracted her boot. 'Do that again and you'll hope I bring forward your time of death, Kakr.' She turned back to Heratrix. 'I know you have friends who escaped from Graag 6.3 with you. Understand that we have our eyes and ears everywhere, in every street in every city on every planet. We are watching. We will find your friends and we will take what is ours, and we will kill them. You may save yourself a long and painful death by letting us know where they are now. I have been known to have my moments of small mercy.'

Heratrix looked deep into the tinted visor. 'You're going to be torturing us for a long time.'

The two women engaged in a silent standoff with each other. Rokoara, meanwhile, was looking to the guards that crowded their little home-from-home with them. Most eyes were focused on the battle of wills, but two pairs kept flickering back to Rokoara. She caught their gazes, as she had done before, and gave the slightest smile and the most unassuming nod of the head. They snapped back to attention before someone noticed.

'Have it your way, then.'

The Silvered Commander turned to her men and nodded to the corner of the room. Two hooded soldiers knelt down and scooped up the Captain under his armpits.

'Don't you dare!'

Kris pulled on his leg but her fingers felt the firm kick of a pair of boots, and a muzzle went to her forehead. Cursing she backed down in her protests.

'Don't hurt her, please. I beg you.' The Captain turned to the commander. 'She's done nothing wrong.'

The commander turned away from him. 'I'll be back in an hour's time to collect another of you. If you feel like confessing before that, please let me know.'

The platoon marched out of the cell; the energy wall activated once again and returned to its shining majesty. The guards marched away, two of them taking up their positions outside. At the side of one of those following the commander, an outstretched finger revolved. Rokoara watched as the signal was withdrawn and the linchpin of her plan marched around the corner.

Kris screamed at the energy wall for what Heratrix thought was a uselessly long time, and eventually she collapsed.

'You ok, Rokoara?' Skreem asked.

Rokoara nodded, wiping her mouth. 'Hurts like a bitch, but it worked.'

Heratrix frowned. 'What worked?'

Rokoara laughed. 'My damsel-in-distress routine. I first used it a few years ago when I was in a grimy hole on Invoras. All we've got hope for now is that there are two guards out there that are willing to put their lives on the line to get some Kakr tongue action.' She licked her lips. 'I really fucking hope they are.'