Colonel Manroe strode up the wide marble steps and into the Psi-Ops main headquarters. The weather was beautiful in Switzerland this time of year, but he had other things on his mind. Like a certain nineteen-year-old telepath on trial before a scumbag not fit to be called Brigadier General. He rubbed at his temples, aggravated by the headache that had started a little under an hour ago. He rounded the corner and frowned when he spotted Colonel Brion leaning against the wall.
"Colonel, what brings you here?" Manroe knew why, but he wanted to hear Brion say it.
"Can we talk in your office?"
Manroe grimaced. A moody Brion was worse than an angry one. He walked past the Colonel and led the way. Once inside, Manroe dropped all pretense of formality.
"Okay, Xavier, spit it out. What burr do you have up your backside now?"
"Don't start with me, Chris! This plan of yours is going to explode in our faces! I don't care what you see, you're not God. You're fallible."
Chris was unperturbed. "Xavier, what bothers you more? The fact that our fates hinge on an emotion or that you, for once, aren't in control of the plan?"
Xavier snarled and pounded his fist against the nearest wall, his face red and his breathing harsh.
Chris frowned. Xavier's anger issues were becoming a problem. He would have to tackle that later. Right now, he needed him to stick with the plan. "Done yet?" He asked the other man and settled himself behind his desk.
Xavier flipped him off before he too sat. "I don't know which one bothers me more. I think Dimitri is crazy for listening to you. The medical scans from the girl speak for themselves. Lt. Enbran is out of her league, and you know it."
"Do I? I told you, Xavier, have some faith. If that's too hard for you, trust my track record instead."
The two men stared at each other for a long time. Xavier looked away first with an irritated snort.
Chris knew he had won this round and contemplated what he would have to do to assist Xavier. The man was miserable. Chris knew why and wanted to help, but at the moment, he had to see the Jewels matrix through to completion. He would tackle Xavier's problem later.
"Fine, Colonel Manroe, you do what you want. You always have. Mark my words, one day your gift will fail you and you'll have to cope like the rest of us," Xavier warned.
"Don't worry, Colonel Brion. I already know when that day will be. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a disciplinary session to watch."
Xavier nodded, shot Manroe a measuring look, and promptly left.
Manroe massaged his temples. His headache had gotten worse. He still had fifteen minutes until Jewels' disciplinary session.
"Might as well do paperwork," he grumbled and started in on the large pile of paper on his desk.
* * *
Jewels awoke and stared at the clock's neon green numbers. It was 20:15, and yet she remained unmoving in bed. She had fifteen minutes until she had to face the music. She was afraid. True, she'd acted tough, but fear gnawed at her insides. Being flogged was not something she'd ever dreamt would happen to her.
"Curse you, Maussey, and the horse you rode in on," she swore. Jewels was sure the whipping would leave scars. Maussey would enjoy that, too.
Her vid-comm chirped, and reluctantly she got up to answer it.
"Yes, Jeremy?"
"Jewels, you're up. Good. I'll meet you at the location. And Jewels?"
"Yes?"
"I will be beside you, no matter what. Maussey cannot keep me out of the room."
"I know, Jeremy. Thank you for the support."
"I just wanted you to know that, Kid."
"I know. Bye, Jeremy," she ended the feed and went back to her room to change.
She knew why Jeremy called. They only used normal communications when they needed to appear completely human or when other psionics might overhear telepathic conversations that were classified.
She changed into her military casual shirt and pants, braided her hair, pulling it into a bun. Steeling herself for the ordeal ahead, she teleported to the hallway outside the Discipline Room.
Davis stood outside with a smirk firmly in place.
Jewels moved to go by him, but he threw up his arm, blocking her way. He leaned in until his mouth was near her ear and his warm breath hit her neck.
"Bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer, Lieutenant."
She silently counted to ten and answered, "Not really. Both you and the alternative are like a plague; unwanted and a pain to deal with."
His eyes narrowed, and he pulled his arm away. She saw his other hand coming toward her to hit her. She didn't move, only pasted a serene smile on her face as his wrist was caught inches from her.
"You're getting slow, old man," she quipped, her eyes on a surprised Davis.
"Jewels, I swear you are turning into a trouble magnet! And I'm not old. I'm still under sixty," Jeremy complained.
"True. You should stop gripping his wrist like that. You're gonna break it," she pointed out.
Davis' face was red, and he sputtered a threat, which Jewels and Jeremy ignored.
Jeremy's expression was harsh as he addressed Davis. "If you attempt to strike your superior officer again, you'll go before the MDC. Understood, Private?"
Jewels stood by and let Jeremy handle Davis. A small part of her enjoyed the Private's terror at her anchor's threat.
"Understood, Sir." Davis glared at them.
Jeremy released his wrist. "Good, boy. Now, run along. The adults have things to do."
Davis stormed off, and Jewels turned to Jeremy.
"Thanks for the assist."
"You're welcome. Jewels?"
"I'm glad you're on my side," she interrupted, not wanting to give him a chance to ask about her feelings. She pushed open the door and walked inside.
The room was the size of a large conference room, arranged around a huge pillar. Wrist shackles encircled the marble column midway up, while ankle chains decorated the bottom. A Sergeant she didn't recognize stood a few feet from the pillar with a large bull whip in his hand.
Jewels felt hysteria stir, and she strove for composure. Freaking out would give Maussey too much satisfaction.
::I will remain calm. I will remain in control.::
::Jewels? We can still call for an appeal.::
::No, Jeremy. It will only make it worse. I must do this. Maussey's a sadist, and perhaps this will assuage some of his fascination with getting even with me.::
::I highly doubt it,:: Jeremy grumbled as he came to stand by her side.
A door opened off to their left, and Maussey strolled in. His gaze raked over Jewels from head to toe, and she felt soiled by it.
::I'm here, Jewels. I'm here.:: Jeremy's soothing words washed over her.
::I know. I...I can do this,:: she reminded herself, bolstering her courage and resolve.
Maussey came to a stop by the Sergeant. He held up his hand to show the controller ring and the remote.
Jewels flinched, and Jeremy went still beside her. Being forced to wear a controller meant two things to a psionic. Either you had lousy control and had to have someone teach it to you, or you lost your freedom for violating Psi-Ops' laws. The controller made you human, a fate many psionics considered the kiss of death.
"It is 2030. Lt. Enbran, come forward," the Sergeant ordered.
Jewels straightened and walked to the two waiting men. She stopped a foot away from the pair. "Lt. Jewels Enbran reporting as ordered." She snapped to attention and waited.
The Sergeant nodded. "Noted and affirmed. Lieutenant, the sentence of twenty-five lashes will be delivered now. Please follow me." The Sergeant led her away from the pillar and over to a door. "Go inside and change into the clothing provided. You can't escape because the room only has one exit, the door you are entering by. You have two minutes to come back out. Also, remove your shoes."
"Yes, Sir." Jewels went in and closed the door.
She stared at the white shift before her. It looked like a cocktail dress, except this wasn't a party. The back of the material was left wide open, giving maximum exposure to her back. Jewels removed all her clothing and slid the shift over her head. She came out and was escorted by the Sergeant to the pillar.
"You must face the column. Your wrists and ankles will be chained. There is some movement, but not much. I will put the controller on you after your limbs are bound. Are there any questions?"
"No, I have none."
"Very well." He pointed to where he wanted her to stand.
Jewels moved to the spot and faced the column. With quick efficiency, the Sergeant shackled her in place. When his hand touched her neck, she flinched. Jewels felt him hesitate. She closed her eyes and willed strength to her failing courage.
"I am putting the controller on now."
She heard a hint of compassion in the Sergeant's voice, and then the hated metal slid around her neck and snapped into place.
A thousand pricks of stray thoughts slammed into her brain, and she bit her lip to stop a whimper from escaping. She worked on breathing. The painful press of so many minds was overwhelming. She could not afford to lose consciousness.
"Well, let's get on with it," Maussey ordered in a cheerful tone.
Her anger at the bastard Brigadier General gave Jewels the power to fight. She would not lose to Maussey, not now, not ever. She heard the experimental crack of the whip.
"Punishment shall commence now," the Sergeant intoned.
It was the only warning she had. She heard the whistle of air and the fiery sting of the whip's impact on her exposed back. The new pain distracted her from the psionic barrage. She gritted her teeth.
"One," the Sergeant counted.
The next four blows happened so fast, Jewels thought she imagined them. But then the fire of their path across her flesh reminded her that this flogging was all too real. The silence in the room was eerie. She would have looked at Jeremy if she hadn't been too afraid of breaking down and crying from the beating and her aching head.
"Sergeant, maybe I should get someone in here who can wield a whip. You are supposed to be the best, yet I haven't heard her make a sound."
"I am the best. I was warming up," the Sergeant growled.
Jewels almost cried then at his words. She heard Jeremy's cursing. She didn't have time to think as the Sergeant rained down seven more blows in quick succession. She gasped, and her shaking legs gave way. She didn't care if all her weight was placed on her wrists. Too much pain from two different fronts was drowning her in their twisted dance of agony through her body and nerves.
The whip sang again. "Thirteen."
And again. "Fourteen."
"Harder!" Maussey ordered.
Jewels was near to fainting when the Sergeant lashed her again. This time, she screamed her agony, not aloud, but mentally. Pain and fear rolled out of her as she prayed for some rescue from this hell.