The heat is on!

["Peggy Walker" <skysinger@hotmail.com>]

Slaves' Quarters -- Harko (Giedi Prime)

     Surrounding an open courtyard on all four sides, a roofed colonnade is 
reached through columned arches. Small, murky rooms lie beyond this 
passageway--storerooms and housing for slaves--and a walkway on the roof of 
the colonnade allows armed sentries to patrol the area. Off-duty guards 
lounge along the balustrade and look down upon the quad where fellow 
soldiers, gladiators, and slaves train for the arena.
     The enclosing walls of the courtyard are high, with tiny keyhole-shaped 
stained glass windows near the domed ceiling. The dome appears to be a later 
addition to the courtyard and is painted midnight blue and inset with silver 
constellations of stars. The courtyard is hundreds of years old and may have 
been the original structure upon which the current Baron's residence was 
erected. What modest illumination exists in the slaves' quarters is provided 
by torches.


Nestor steps into the room and immediately the head guard is at attention. 
He knows what the Mentat wants. Immediately, Malia is brought out of her 
cell.

Ceile is brought out of her cell, having to be pulled all of the way. She's 
wrapped in a cloak, nothing else, and looks completely miserable. Other than 
the marks on her chin, it's impossible to tell what condition she's in under 
the cloak, but from the way she's moving, she's still and in a fair bit of 
pain.

Nestor takes several minutes to look the woman over. "You have been 
disobedient again," he says, and it is not a question.

Ceile shakes her head slowly, lifting her gaze without moving her head to 
meet Nestor’s.  “No.  I did what the Baron wanted.  I told him what I 
thought, and showed him what the mildest thing I wished to do to him was, 
just as he asked.”  She straightens her back with a small grimace, holding 
her cloak tightly around herself.  “I knew it would cost me, but…it was 
worth it.”

Nestor shrugs slightly. "At least you are learning that there is a price for 
disobedience, Malia. How have you been sleeping as of late?

Ceile shakes her head slowly, narrowing her eyes as she looks at Nestor. 
"Not well since you forced this collar onto me, and the needles pierced my 
neck." she answers, her voice pitched low.

Nestor hmms. "A small sacrifice for the teachings that the collar imparts. 
Tell me your name now.”

"Mal..." Ceile catches herself, frowning faintly at the slip. "Ceile...my 
name is Ceile." She sounds almost as if she's trying to convince herself.

Nestor shakes his head slightly, hands clasping together in his signature 
pose. "Your name is Malia. Be glad that the Baron Harkonnen has allowed you 
a name - some slaves live and die as a number only. You are special, 
however. You are Malia - resigned to a life of penance and simple 
servitude." With a hand signal, the tray from before is slid next to him by 
an anonymous guard. "Mental breaking must accompany the physical - pain 
along with the humiliation that you are already feeling..."

The idea of more pain added to what she's feeling already is hardly pleasant 
to Ceile's thinking. "No...please. Not after the beating..." she whispers, 
shaking her head though she remains standing where she is. At least she's 
learned that trying to move away won't help her. Her shoulders also aren't 
as proudly held back as they were when she was brought out.

Without looking, the Mentat Nestor picks up a wicked looking metal syringe 
from the tray and holds it up before his eyes, pushing on the long plunger 
and sending a little of the amber fluid apparently contained within 
dribbling from the tip of the needs onto the ground. "I do not suggest 
resisting at this point," he informs her as he approaches her, syringe in 
hand.

Ceile slides her gaze from Nestor’s face down to the syringe, her eyes 
widening as her already pale face loses another shade of colour.  She pushes 
back against the guard holding her in place, shaking her head slowly as she 
shivers through the cloak. “No…”

Nestor steps in front and just to one side of Ceile, apparently intent on 
injecting her in the bicept. "No? Why should I not. You are not broken, do 
not obey, and have not found your place. This is what must be done to 
accomplish my duty. Can you find another way for me to have you do these 
things?" The needle is paused mere centimeters from her skin.

Small beads of perspiration have appeared on Ceile’s forehead, and her 
breath comes in small gasps.  “Y…you don’t need to…” she whispers softly, 
fear lacing her voice.  Her eyes do not stray from the syringe and it’s 
amber liquid, her grip on the cloak tightening.


Nestor says, "Ah, but I do. You must be broken and reformed into what you 
need to be to survive, Malia. I just want for you to live and to be excised 
from your guilt - to live conducting your penance and accepting it." He nods 
toward the syringe. "You keep telling me how I do not have to do this thing, 
but it is /you/ that forces me to do this. Have you accepted your name? Do 
you know obedience...supplication? Do you know your place as a slave? Do you 
see your guilt and wish for it to end...to end the nightmares?"

Andrei walks in casually, whistling even, hands behind his back to see how 
the new addition is doing. He's mildly disappointed to see Nestor is there. 
"Ah, master Nestor, I see you have taken this here slave under your personal 
tutelage?"

Ceile shifts her gaze from the syringe for a moment to look at Andrei, and 
stifles a groan.  She looks back to Nestor then, meeting his gaze this time, 
her fear almost palatable.    “I…do not want to survive here.” She whispers 
stubbornly, blinking as she tries to focus on him through the effects of the 
drugs already in her system.

Nestor doesn't break his gaze from Malia as he says, "Yes, Young Master. She 
requires my personal touch if she is to be brought into the House as a 
proper slave. She may yet have her uses." With that, he moves his hand to 
bury the needle in her arm, injecting through even her cloak. And obviously 
he hasn't sanitized the area with so much as an alcohol swab. "She must know 
pain for a while, I think."

Andrei nods leaning against the wall. "What does father intend with her once 
she breaks? Is she meant for his personal pleasures or will she become 
family property?" A lecherous gaze is thrown into the cell.

Ceile lets out a soft, pained cry before she clamps her teeth stubbornly 
down onto her bottom lip.  She squeezes her eyes shut, her arm, already sore 
from her beating, spasms lightly, trying to pull away of it’s own accord.

Nestor withdraws the needle, his gaze still on Malia's face as if looking 
intently to pick up reactions to stimuli already in place. "I do not know, 
Young Master. This indoctrination will be general. She must learn that her 
true place in the universe is as a slave." He moves backward and sets the 
syringe down on the tray again. "Your blood is now coursing with an agent 
that will inflame your blood vessels just enough to cause severe pain in 
you, but not enough to damage you permanently unless I use this agent with 
some regularity. Within five minutes, you will feel as if your blood is on 
fire. It will seem that you can pick out the pain in each and every 
vessel...even those you are not now aware of. Do you understand, Malia?"

Andrei lets the master do his work.

If she wasn’t frightened before, Ceile most definitely is now.  The very 
idea of anything adding to the aches and soreness she’s already feeling is 
nearly too much.  She sobs softly, flexing her fingers on the material of 
the cloak, gathering it up a little more than before.  The former Lady 
continues to stare at Nestor, her shivering becoming more pronounced.

Nestor licks his sapho-stained lips for a moment. "Pain can purify, Malia. 
Pain now will save you pain later. You will break...and I have quite some 
time with which to accomplish that feat. I've broken people in mere minutes, 
though they were useless as human beings thereafter...mere vegetables. You 
must endure as a slave...so I take some time. But the Baron's patience has 
limits - I must cut away that which was the insufferable Ceile. Only Malia 
must remain. Pure, obedient, accepting Malia. Do you understand, Malia?"

Ceile shudders, shutting her eyes tightly as she begins to feel the effects 
from the syringe she was given, more quickly than the promised five minutes, 
perhaps because she’s more susceptible due to the other drugs in her system. 
  With a soft whimper, she wraps her arms tightly around herself, pulling 
the cloak along with her, not giving Nestor a response.

Andrei hrmmms. "Can I try Master Nestor?" He moves forward rolling up his 
sleeves.

Nestor sighs slightly. "The very heat from your blood is what will assist in 
the inflamaton of the vessels - that accompanied by the pressure necessary 
for it to be pushed by the heart." Looking down now to the tray, he picks up 
what looks to be an elecric light with a long, thin tube. "I will use this," 
he says, flicking it on, the instrument glowing slightly, "to add heat to 
specific parts of you from the outside." He glances over to the Na-Baron. 
"If you must, Young Master. Such things should be left to the more 
expert...not ones used to giving light touches to women..." Regardless of 
his subtle objection, he does extend the heat wand for Andrei to take.

Ceile slowly bends forward, her breathing become slightly labored, audible 
now.  “N…no, pl…please…” she begs as her knees buckle under her.  She is in 
no way used to pain, and the burning that is increasing in her limbs is too 
much.  If she’s to be kept standing, it’s only the guard holding her who’d 
be able to do it.

Andrei experiments with the little wand. "Hrmm..looks like the surgical 
version of a ilitary style stundrod." With a grin he steps forward. Then, 
turning to Nestor, he says. "The soft touch learns one where a woman will 
react with pleasure...and as you know...pleasure and pain are close 
relatives." Without even looking, he presses the tube against the side of 
Ceile's breast, where he knows most women are extra sensitive and depresses 
the switch.

Ceile jerks, lifting her hands to try and push the rod away, in the process 
forcing the cloak away from half her body, revealing the fact that she’s 
still nude underneath.  Her voice raises in an obviously tortured cry, tears 
beginning to leak out of the corner of her eyes, down her cheeks.

Andrei hums softly as he takes away the little rod and selects another 
point. "So you /are/ a screamer!" ,he chuckles while touching the rod to the 
back of her neck where her spinal column connects to her cranium. 
analytically he says. "Cranial link. only slight pressure needed here to 
kill an enemy, if not severe enough to paralyze an enemy, leaving them in 
immense pain."

Ceile’s body spasms, twisting in the guards arms, the pain unbearable for 
the poor woman.  As an automatic reflex, her body slides quickly towards 
unconsciousness, it’s natural protective instinct against such torture.  
It’s only a moment more before she slips completely into oblivion, her body 
going limp yet still jerking lightly.





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