Number 9666 woke up in a cold sweat.
Number 9666 woke up in a cold sweat. She had the dream again. The dream where she was out in the warm sun then hands reached out from the ground and dragged her under into the dark depths of the cold rocky crust. She swung her feet over the cloth cot that was attached to the wall with chains. It was old and every time she sat on it or lay down 9666 thought this was the night it was going to break. If it did the guards wouldn't fix it. Their job was to keep the inmates in not to keep them comfortable.
9666 started pacing her cell. It was still night. It was almost always night. The sun only rose for 5 hours then it was twilight and darkness again. Typhon was a dwarf planet. A prison planet where the galaxy's worst or undesirables were sent to work and die. They took away your name and gave you a number. 9666 began doing stretches to keep her mind occupied and to use up the excess adrenaline. She did sit ups, push ups, and pull ups. Once the 2 moons were high enough in the sky then it was grey sludge for breakfast. Work. Recreation. Dinner. Then back to their cells.
* * * * *
"What else?" 9666 responded dryly. They sat together in a stone enclave. The cafeteria wasn't really a room just a cave underground where prisoners sat on rocks to hate their daily gruel-like substance. Typhon was no place to make friends. There were gangs. 9666 didn't partake in gangs. She had a real problem with authority which was one of the reasons she was here. 4583 was in a gang. A gang some called terrorists. He had a 7 pointed star on his left wrist with a heart in the middle. 9666 never asked how 4583 got here but what did it matter?
"I could get you something for sleep," 4583 offered.
"And owe 670 a favor or a night of disgusting sex? No thanks," 9666 shivered. Vespasians were cthulu-type creatures with an octupus for a head and three red eyes. Their sex organs were just as strange though technically still compatible with humanoid species. 670 had a fetish for human women.
"I hear the puss their tentacles secrete is better than factory made lubricant," 4583 teased. 9666 rolled her eyes but laughed all the same. Then a buzzer sounded. Time for Typhon's daily show of punishment.
"Someone tried to escape last night," 4583 whispered.
"No one ever learns," 9666 sighed as she forced herself to swallow the bubbly gray matter.
* * * * *
The prisoners were led out into the hot sun. They had a coliseum just for entertainment where prisoners liked to have gladitorial events. Fights to the death to keep boredom at bay. After long hours toiling in the mines for gold, a rare metal in the galaxy, the entertainment kept the inmates from rioting. Right now a prisoner 74236. A male human alien from Erida was being punished. He was tied to a post where a warden in red and black stood over him with a shock whip. A long slender black whip that gave an extra kick by giving a searing electric charge to burn as well as cut. Eridians looked like humans from Earth but they had bionic eyes implanted in their soldiers and could withstand radiation better than those of Earth. Eridians were a war-like people not known for their love of surrender. So it didn't surprise 9666 to see 74236 on the pillar.
Over and over again the warden whipped the man. The Eridian managed to climb up every time. Some of the inmates took pleasure in seeing the warden fail to break 74236. The enemy of my enemy is my friend if there was one enemy to all the inmates it was the wardens. The frustrated warden flung that whip until his arms grew tired. Then finally the warden released 74236. 74236 rose to his knees in triumph despite his burns and bleeding wounds he smiled. The smile never left his face even when the warden took out his switch blade and sliced 74236's throat. The crowd was silent. 74236 escaped after all.
* * * * *
9666 and 4583 broke rocks with their drills. The punishment display already a fleeting memory. Though the memory lingered longer with 9666 than she thought it would. 74236's smile made 9666 smile. Eridians never surrendered.
"Heads up," 4583 nodded towards 1757, a Taurii. Taurii were the bullies of the universe. They were big with muscles having scars etched into their flesh to commemorate their biggest events in life; births, tragedies, deaths of loved ones, murders. 1757 murdered countless inmates in the ring. He always got what he wanted. Today he wanted 9666.
"Bruja," 1757's pet name for 9666. She ignored the large beast of a man. 1757 wouldn't be ignored.
"I say 'Bruja'!" 1757 whistled. 4583 stood close to 9666. He always carried a knife with him in his sock and in his shirt. 9666 hated weapons. 1757 kicked 9666's drill out of her hands.
"1757," 9666 lightly acknowledged the beast before her.
"You and me tonight," 1757 puffed up his beefy chest. 9666 ignored him and went to pick up her drill but 1757 kicked it away. "Stay on your knees, Bruja."
"Why don't you get back to work, Earth scum," 1757's men closed in on 9666 and 4583. "Adults talking."
"Bring it, Elephant Man," 4583 goaded. One of 1757's men pushed 4583. In seconds 4583 had his knife out and stabbed his attacker in the throat. Blood gushed from his wound. 4583 had his other knife out to take on the rest before his first victim crashed to the ground. 9666 took a deep breath then went for 1757's weak spot. His knee was still recovering from his fight in the ring 3 days ago. Medics on Typhon left much to be desired. 1757 faltered but regained his footing only to be bombarded with 9666's fingers that struck like daggers hitting vital pressure points and nerve clusters. Her military guerilla training showed.
But 1757 stood his ground then caught 9666's next blow. He fractured her wrist then broke her arm but 9666 channeled her pain and kicked 1757 in the groin and while he was in shock twisted around, wrapping her legs around his neck, squeezing her hardest. 1757 weakened as 9666 used her good arm to stop blood flow to his brain choking the cerebral chord. With one more twist 1757's neck snapped. He went limp in 9666's hold at which she released. 1757's entourage backed down and ran away.
"If you used weapons like me then you wouldn't have had to exhaust yourself like that," 4583 panted. Blood streamed from his forehead and right thigh.
"My arm would probably had still been broken," 9666 pointed out. They patched each other up as best they could then continued with their work. 1757's body would be cleared out for the next shift. Until then it laid there, rocks hitting the giant corpse as 9666 dug into a new deposit of gold.
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