Marchero was escorted to one of the smaller buildings. The door was locked behind her, but this prison was much more comfortable than the one she had just left. The room she was in was carpeted with various scraps of material, and several soft but battered chairs were scattered around it. At one end an area had been curtained off. On a crude trestle table stood a pitcher, a couple of mugs, and a loaded plate and bowl.
The pitcher was full of water, and she drained half of it quickly. The food was simple, bread, some dried fruit, and the bowl was full of some unpalatable processed mush. She didn't seem to notice the taste, and crammed it in.
Feeling light-headed from the effects of overdoing the food and drink she made her erratic way to the curtained area. It contained five bunks and a proper door. Sitting on one of the bunks was a pile of clothes. Through the door was a cramped bathroom, just managing to contain a shower, basin and toilet.
She showered, despite the apparent lack of soap, and left the shower running with her clothes sitting in it. There was no dryer, which she compensated for by pulling a rug off one of the bunks and using it as a towel. The clothes on the bed were tatty and baggy, but they were clean and dry. Lying down on the conveniently placed bunk she quickly fell asleep.
Voices from the main room woke her up. Struggling to her feet Marchero parted the curtain to see what was causing the noise.
The two men who had brought her in earlier had returned, dragging a limp form between them. Marchero started in surprise when she recognised Kirrik. Whatever she had gone through must have been nothing compared to his suffering. Crude bandages covered much of his torso, limbs, and head, speaking of injuries other than the one he had sustained when they had been captured. His head was hanging down too far for it to be seen whether or not he was conscious or not. Only shallow breathing indicated that he was alive.
The two men carefully lowered him onto one of the chairs, then left the room. Marchero sat down and watched him.
Kirrik gradually raised his face to look at her. One eye was swollen completely shut and the other could barely open. He whispered something, but too faintly for Marchero to hear. She moved over to him.
"Who's this lot?" she managed to hear, as he whispered again.
"I don't know. They've barely said a word since bringing me hear."
Kirrik sighed and leaned back against the chair. "What's happened to you," Marchero asked him, but he did not reply.
It was not long before the door opened again. Only one man entered this time, a different person to the two who had brought them in to the room. He was carrying a case from which he produced various medications and clean bandages.
Marchero said nothing whilst Kirrik was attended to. When he was done, though, she spoke to him. "You're just going to put on a few bandages?" she demanded.
The man scowled at her. "We're very short on medical supplies. I've used some regeneration accelerant on the worst wounds and cleaned the rest. That's the best I can do."
"And why?" she queried him.
"You'll find out shortly," he replied, and departed before she could question him further.
For three hours nothing happened. Kirrik slept, and Marchero nibbled some more food, and with the lack of any other way of passing the time dozed herself.
When the tedium was broken it was by the arrival of a group of three people. Standing at their head was a man who looked at least sixty, with grey hair and a scarred face. He was dressed in richer and less ragged garments than the other people Marchero had seen in the cavern, and sported some pieces of jewellery in the form of gold cuffs. The two people accompanying him, a man and a woman, were younger and as untidy as the rest of the people here had been. In their hands they held pistols, currently pointed at the ground.
The older man sat himself down in one corner of the room. One of his guards gently shook Kirrik awake.
Kirrik slowly looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. When he noticed the grey haired man he managed a half laugh.
"Long time no see, Kirrik," the man said. "Looking about as good as the last time I saw you, though," he added wryly. Marchero stared at them in confusion.
The man noticed her puzzled look. "You haven't a clue what's going on, have you?" he asked.
Marchero shook her head.
"So what are you doing with this pirate, then?" He nodded his head in Kirrik's direction.
"Pirate?" she replied in amazement.
"Yep. Him and me. Had a ship called the Sai Pas." Kirrik was growling at him, but he ignored it. "Spent our time hanging around anarchic systems blasting other pirates and traders foolish enough to venture there."
"He was one of the Sai Pas?" she replied incredulously.
"Ah, you've heard of us. The price of fame. Or infamy." Infamy indeed. Being on a pirate vessel that had destroyed a Galactic Co-Operative vessel on its way to Rabedira with real hope of ending its civil wars. Which meant that at one time Kirrik was on of the most wanted men in the Co-Operative.
"So what's he doing here, then?" she demanded.
"Why don't you ask me?" Kirrik told her. He spoke loud enough to be easily heard, although his voice still sounded strained.
"Would you tell me?"
Kirrik shrugged slightly. "Might as well. If I won't Aeyris will."
The man, Aeyris, grinned at him. "Go right ahead."
Kirrik tried to cough, then spoke. "To put it quickly, I was on his ship. We misread the signs and tried to attack a Naval patrol, and were shot to pieces. Aeyris shoved me in one escape pod, and I haven't seen him since. I was picked up by the Navy. You can guess the rest."
It was now the turn of Aeyris to be startled. "You work for the Navy? Heaven help the security of the galaxy. Still, I suppose it explains why you're here."
"Perhaps," Kirrik replied. "And you?"
"I stayed on the ship when it was attacked. They thought it wrecked and left it. I managed to survive long enough to be picked up by another of my ships. Then I continued with piracy. I found this asteroid and started up a nice, hidden base here. Things were going quite well until those bastards showed up and killed most of us." He leaned back in his chair. "And now the survivors are marooned here, until they find this place too."
"And you picked us up for old times' sake?" Kirrik returned.
Aeyris shook his head. "I didn't know who you were until I walked in here. It's about time I had a pleasant surprise, though."
"Why rescue us then?" Kirrik pressed.
"Because your presence suggests someone official has decided to do something about that lot. We've tapped into their security system, and saw your capture. It's a pity I didn't recognise you there, or I might have tried finding you earlier."
"Thanks," Kirrik muttered.
Aeyris sighed. "It would have been too dangerous to try. I would have had to wait until you had been left alone anyway."
Marchero responded angrily to this. "What about me, though? If you were going to rescue both of us why leave me to go crazy in that pit first?"
"If I had you plucked from the oubliette before I could rescue Kirrik the commotion it would have caused would have probably made rescuing him impossible."
"They might have come and killed me anyway!" she retorted.
Their new captor shook his head. "That particular hole lives up to its name. When they shove people in there they leave them to rot. Just the occasional bit of food and water to prolong it."
Marchero grimaced at the fate she had nearly been left to. "Then they wouldn't have known I was gone."