Outpost 1

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She awoke with one hand handcuffed to a cold metal chair. Her Head throbbing in pain and her scuffed muddy boots still tied together with wire ties. They had placed her in the corner of a well lit room. Seemingly oblivious to her existence we were eating breakfast and drinking coffee at the break room table 8 feet away.
The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs filled the room.
She watched in amazement as her mouth watered and her stomach ached from hunger.
I poured myself a second cup and mixed in some creamer knowing full well she was watching quietly. Slowly I poured a ladle of gravy onto a soft warm pair of biscuits. For quite a while I was willing to play the psychological game further but DJ broke the spell by acknowledging her.
"So it seems our stowaway has decided to join us I see! " he said aloud while glancing in her general direction.
"You have anything to say for yourself young-un?"
"No."
"Who do you work for? Pitney? Royce Consolidated? Maybe the MFA group? It'll be just a matter of time before we find out."
"I can't tell!"
"Didn't expect you would...... But we wanted to see what you were made of." I bit into my toast and turned my seat towards her as I continued to eat.
She got no food that morning nor the rest of the day. She spoke not a word all day. She had grit of that we were sure. But that was OK cause we had lots of wire ties.Reese rolled a bottle of water in her direction and it stopped as it reached her boot. She opened it cautiously and avoided direct eye contact with anyone as she drank.

On the second day she woke up in a gray nearly empty storage room to find Reese bandaging her head wound. She was surprised to find her hands were free.Propped up against the wall she instinctively pulled away thinking he was doing her harm. At once she felt nauseated and a numbing pain surging inside. Reaching out she grabbed a nearby chair to steady herself.
"I need my pills"
" What are they for again?"
" They're medicinal. I have a, uh , chronic liver disease." She lied.
A jolt of pain ran through her left side making her tilt involuntarily.
"What did you DO to me ?" She cried aloud.
"Bandaged you up and pumped you full of painkiller. Oh and a sedative to keep you manageable."
"But.... I'm sick to my stomach..."
"THAT would be from the withdrawals.
Twister withdrawals can last for one week or more. No use trying to tell me it's 'medicinal' I know how it works."
"No I'm addicted for life. Everyone knows that."
"No that's a myth they tell you young troops to keep you from trying to get free from it."
"How would a company guy like you know anything about Twister?"
Lifting the sleeve of his shirt he exposed the distinctive red and yellow skull and bones logo of the Royce Mercenaries.
" I wasn't always a corporate guy. Back in my day it wasn't called Twister. They had everyone hopped up on Cochera. A nasty drug which led to psychotic behavior if you stayed on it too long. But in the short run it made you fast, heightened your awareness and eliminated the sensation of pain. Made you think you were invincible. Good stuff in the middle of a war"
"And your point is... ?"
"Well in a nutshell they are all created with the same basic formula. A few things change but none of them leads to permanent addiction. They haven't perfected it yet. But no one wanted their best troops to die early deaths."
"So why are telling me this?" She asked as another wave of pain began to surge.
"Because you're about to go through the most gut wrenching pain you've ever felt and I wanted to give you something to cling to as your mind contemplates suicide. I know this from my own experience. I feel sorry for you but going cold turkey is the only known cure. May God have mercy on you child."
"I'm no child!"
It was roughly 20 minutes later that her body began to convulse involuntarily, her left hand squeezed the side of her chair till they were white. Her other hand began shake slowly and uncontrolled. Sweat began to bead on her forehead and she could feel her stomach begin to cramp again.
Reese stood up knowing what was about to happen next. Gathered his medical supplies and turned off the large light before closing the door behind him just before the painful screams and crying began.

They extracted DNA samples from the girl the next morning as she lay unconscious from exhaustion and found 2 probable matches. The computer estimated a 95% chance she could be- Andrea Morgan or her twin sister Sandra Morgan Miner.
I looked at her face and noticed that she now exhibited a slightly more human color in her cheeks and hands.
Paul had run a simple computer ID program which presented pictures of both sisters. But visually they were completely indistinguishable.
"Well we know who her parents are anyway."
"No criminal past, good family background. Doesn't add up."
"I'm gonna take a few pictures and see if my friends can fill in the blanks." Suggested Paul.

DJ laughed as I explained the dilemma.
" I'm wondering what to do with a sick prisoner on a water transport"
He saw things in a different light having lived in this culture so long.
"Joseph, you don't have a problem at all. It can be solved the old fashioned way. Place her in airlock decompression chamber and open the hatch."
"DJ, it's not that simple anymore."
"It can be if you let it!"
"No it can't , I know this would be different if it were still an official war, but, I ...."
"Can't do it cause she's a woman???"
"Well... OK that's part of it . Sure chalk it up to my old way of thinking , but more importantly she's also one of the Morgan clan."
"A Morgan working for the enemy at the moment."
"There would be hell to pay if we killed one of the Morgan heirs. They outright own most of the space construction operations not to mention that Lyle Morgan is Operational head at Outpost 4."
"Yeah I see your point didn't think of that. But none of us has to admit to knowing who she was if she should ...um...disappear."
"Sorry DJ I can't do it in good conscience. I can't imagine it would stay a secret even if we were all in agreement."
"Your right about that. The only thing faster than the speed of light in space is gossip. They've probably already caught wind of this all the way to Outpost 9"
"We'll have to play it straight."

Just then Jake and Reese come into the room from control room. Jake is shaking his head.
"I just heard you guys talking and I say since Joe has the perpetual bleeding heart syndrome that it should be HIS job to tend to the junkie in the other room."
"Wait I don't think that's fair -"
"All in favor?"
All hands shoot up as I protest to no avail.
"Your outvoted Joe besides we all have seniority over you anyway."
Knowing there's no way around it I resigned myself to prisoner custodian.
"By the way she may need tending to."
"What are you talking about Jake?"
"Just letting you know that she's at stage 3 of withdrawals."
"Stage 3 ? What does that mean?"
"It means bring a mop, a bucket and face mask because you'll need them all"
"Gee thanks guys!"
"Well the upside is your names now in the lead for 'Employee of the Month' . "
Laughter follows me as I head down the hallway knowing any reaction would only encourage it more.

It was a very long day. I had a sleepless night. The sound of an adult crying was hard to ignore by me anyway. Strangely everyone else slept like a baby.

I brought a cup of orange juice and a steaming hot plate of roast beef ,potatoes with gravy and placed it on the metal chair beside her still body the next morning.
"Thank you." Came the weak soft voice from under the messy tangle of hair.
"Your welcome miss-um just who am I talking to anyway?"
"Just call me Sandy. Uh... Are you planning on ...killing me?"
"Sorry! No such luck your gonna have to live today. We wouldn't waste the food if we were planning on killing you would we?
"At this point I think I'd rather die."
"I have a bucket of water, a towel and one set of coveralls I found for you to use. It's the only size we have a spare of and you'll have to excuse the condition it used to belong to a mechanic. They're by the opposite wall when you feel up to it."

She nodded quietly in acknowledgement and felt the shakes coming again.
"If you could just give me just 1 of my pills..."
"Sorry Sandy we disposed of them 2 days ago"
A low moan followed.
"Please just leave."
"I'll be back later this afternoon. Your gonna have to answer a few nagging questions we all have."
"Questions?"
"Inquiring minds want to know."