Starship Desolation by Tripp Ellis

just one look in his good eye, and Slade knew everything she needed to know about this man. He was a killer. And he took this job because he got off on control.
    Pemberton looked Slade up and down. Then he walked the line of prisoners. The processing room was a sparse, with grimy walls. The greenish fluorescent lights hummed overhead, bathing the room in a sickly pallor.
    “Welcome to Alpha Ceti 7. Your worst fucking nightmare. Each and every one of you are here because you are a dirt bag that society has no use for. You are beyond rehabilitation, as your behavior on the trip over here has demonstrated. It is unfortunate that we no longer have the death penalty. That would make my life a lot easier. I am Captain Pemberton, and you will refer to me as sir, or my title. Is that clear?”
    “Yes, sir,” the inmates muttered.
    “I didn’t hear you!”
    “Yes, sir,” they shouted.
    “Some of you are former military. Some of you are civilians. I suspect the former military will fall in line a little quicker around here. If you obey my commands, I’m sure your stay here will be more pleasant. If you don’t, accidents can happen, and we have plenty of body bags.”
    It reminded Slade of her first day in basic training.
    Pemberton introduced a man with an off white suit and round wire-rimmed glasses. He was a stark contrast to the grimy shit-hole of a prison. “This is Warden Carson. He is God to you scumbags. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Carson smiled. “Now don’t let Captain Pemberton scare you. I’m not so bad, if you obey my rules. But, if you plan on being a troublemaker. You should be very afraid. Because Captain Pemberton is wrong. I am not God. I am the devil himself.”
    Slade could see in Carson’s eyes a man with a cold heart.
    Carson walked the line and took note of the prisoners. His eyes lingered on Slade longer than the rest. His eyes soaked in her shapely form like a desert during rain.
    “For those of you involved in the riot aboard the Gibraltar , you will be pleased to know that Lieutenant O’Connor has suffered massive brain damage. He’ll likely never utter a coherent word again.” Carson looked over the motley crew again. “Well, I’ll leave you good people in Captain Pemberton’s capable hands.”
    Carson left the processing station.
    “Alright, dirtbags. Time to get disinfected. Strip down.”
    Slade cringed. Was she really going to have to get naked in front of this bunch? She was the only woman in the bunch. Apparently there was no segregation between male and female prisoners.
    The rest of the degenerates peeled out of their jumpsuits. It was not a pretty sight. Some were fit and trim. Some were not. Some looked like they hadn’t seen the sun in years. And some looked like they hadn’t taken a shower since the first Verge War.
    “What’s the matter, princess? You too good for this? Are you shy? Are you embarrassed?” Pemberton asked.
    “No, sir.”
    “Then take your fucking clothes off!”

14

Walker
    W hen it came to medical technology, the Saarkturians knew what they were doing. By the morning, Walker’s wounds were almost healed. He wasn’t going to be bench pressing 300 pounds any time soon, but he had a good range of motion and only mild soreness. The regenerative gel had done its job.
    “What do you say, Bailey? You ready for a walk?”
    Bailey barked.
    Walker gathered his gear and crawled out of the hole into the freezing pre-dawn desert. The underground burrow had acted as insulation from the elements. It kept cool during the day and retained warmth during the night. Walker wanted to crawl back inside for a moment. It was much more appealing than stepping out into the harsh environment.
    The mountains were roughly twenty miles away. Not a leisurely stroll, but doable.
    Bailey didn’t want to leave the burrow. And who could blame him? The little guy was shivering.
    “C’mon. Don’t be a wuss.”
    Bailey whimpered.
    “I get it. I want to stay in there