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Description

Lydia was bound for the Facility, Holt’s maximum security prison and sanitarium, built to hold even those with psychic abilities. Lydia was not, in fact, psychic, but the Facility’s capacity was much greater than the number of psychics it needed to hold, and so it was used for non-psychic's on occasion. Lydia’s crimes as a master thief normally wouldn’t warrant being sent to such a facility, but she’d ended angering somebody important who knew how to hold a grudge. While her lawyer was good, the insanity defense ended up with the same result, given the dual nature of the Facility. So Lydia found herself on her way to the Facility.

When the shuttle arrived at the facility, Lydia was woken up from cold sleep. While some maintained it would be cheaper to simply put all prisoners in cold sleep, it would preclude the recovery of those deemed “insane,” and many simply didn’t see it as a real punishment for criminals. The cold sleep pod differed from most models; however, in that Lydia woke unable to move. Straps held her down at her ankles, waist, wrists, and neck. She didn’t bother trying to wriggle free. Even if she somehow freed herself, the lid of the pod was locked tight in any case.

What seemed a few minutes later, a woman appeared outside her pod to check she was still restrained, using the small window on the front. Moments later, Lydia heard a mechanical noise followed by a hiss as the pod’s door opened up like a coffin. A comparison Lydia considered as unwelcome as it was accurate.

“Are you going to cooperate with us today, or do something stupid?” said the woman, staring down at Lydia with a critical eye. She was wearing a blue jumpsuit of a type common in space, but modified to look more like a security uniform.

“I suppose I have no other option, do I?” Lydia replied, resignation in her voice. What would be the point, anyway? She was already in the Facility, which was in orbit around an icy moon of a gas giant. Exactly which one was a secret, to prevent the escape of any Psychics via teleportation, which was limited to low orbit jumps for even the most powerful of psychics, as well as only being possible if they knew their destination. Lydia, being an entirely ordinary thief, could never attempt such a thing. And she certainly didn’t fancy her chances of somehow overpowering this woman, stealing a shuttle for which she had neither the codes or knowledge of how to fly, and somehow escaping without being caught by a patrol craft.

“Well, that’s good. Some of the ones we get here just don’t get how pointless it is. Or don’t care,” said the woman, as she punched some buttons on the side of the pod. Lydia was relieved when the straps holding her wrists slackened, then retracted into the pod. However, she’d barely begun rubbing at her wrists and enjoying their freedom when the woman pulled out a pair of cuffs.

“I said I wouldn’t try to escape, didn’t I?” protested Lydia, crossing her arms to hide her wrists as well as she could, with her still limited mobility.

The guard just smiled at that, and replied, “No, actually you said you’d cooperate. And I’m still not sure if I can trust you to hold to that. So consider it a trust building exercise. Hands.”

This last was clearly a command, so Lydia reluctantly put her hands forward. The guard closed the shackles over Lydia’s wrists, and Lydia saw they were a fairly standard design for longer term prisoners. They were comprised of bulging metal cylinders about 2 inches tall, which wrapped around her wrists, and were connected by a 6” metallic cable rather than the more standard chain. The locks were electronically controlled, but their internals were mechanical, so that they would remain closed after losing power. In fact one of the obstacles of getting out of them was powering the lock, as the mechanism had to be charged by the electronic key that opened them, making them impossible to hack without tools. They adjusted automatically during their brief period of power, and Lydia felt them tighten around her wrists a moment after they were put on. They were padded as well, so that they were actually fairly comfortable, although Lydia thought that would be small comfort if they were going to stay on most of her stay, as she rather suspected they might.

Once the shackles were tight around her wrists, the woman punched more buttons on the pod, and Lydia’s ankles were likewise freed. Still unable to rise, Lyida had to simply lie there as the guard fettered here ankles with a similar device, restricting her stride to 10 inches. Only then did the guard free Lydia from her neck and waist restraints.

Lydia climbed out of the pod, feeling a chill as her bare feet hit the metal floor. The pod was in a dark storage compartment, with the cargo, and it was chilly as well. Her thin prison uniform did little to help.

“No dawdling,” spoke the her guard gruffly, and Lydia, finding her shoulder in a powerful grip, meekly headed for the door. Moments later she was shuffling down a cargo ramp into a hanger bay just large enough for the shuttle. The lighting was momentarily dim, but a path lit up on the floor, leading to an exit.

“Follow the path to the door and it will open for you. Don’t leave the path.” With that, the woman shoved Lydia in the general direction of the path. Lydia stumbled forward onto the path, trying not to trip with her ankles hobbled, as the guard headed for a different exit. Lydia slowly shuffled along the path towards the exit, until she saw the hatch close behind her former minder. She held still for a few moments, before tentatively stepping off the path. No sooner had her foot crossed the boundary then a painful electric shock came from the cuff, causing her to jerk her foot back. Seconds later, there was a brief hum, and the cables connecting her wrist and ankle cuffs became rigid as metal bars.

“Congratulations on failing such a simple command,” came an amplified voice from the darkness. Lydia started for the door again, more slowly than even her affected shuffle, now that her feet were truly hobbled.

After an exhausting minute “walking” to the door, she reached it, and it opened automatically. Lydia surmised that her restraints must contain tracking devise of some sort. She crossed the threshold, and the door closed again seconds later. To her relief, the connector between her fetters slackened once more. She looked at the hallway, finding it to be an institutional white, with a narrow path lit down the center. As she set out, she found the doors she passed didn’t open at her approach. She considered trying one, but thought better of it after her last attempt to leave the path.

At the end of the corridor was another door, which did open at Lydia’s approach, revealing a remarkably spacious room, in the same color scheme as the corridor. At the center of the room was table, with a nurse standing behind it. A box lay next to the table, and an white bundle atop it.

The door closed behind Lydia as she hesitantly entered the room. “Hello? What happens now?” said Lydia, quietly.

The nurse fixed Lydia with a stern glare. “My name is Ramona Decker, Miss Decker to you. ”

“Yes, Miss Decker.” Ordinarily Lydia would have given her at least some lip, but right now she thought it was likely a poor idea. No doubt the woman held a remote for her restraints.

“Good. As to your question, it’s time for you to put on your uniform. You’ll be happy to know this necessitates the removal of your restraints. Know before you try anything that I was given eelskin cyberware for my duties here.”

Which meant her punches could act like a taser. “Yes, ma’am.” Lydia shuffled towards the table, before Miss Decker put up a hand to stop. Lydia’s fetters fell off, and Ramona retrieved them before removing Lydia’s cuffs. Guessing her next task, Lydia removed her clothes as her restraints were placed on the table. Even for as short as she’d been wearing them, she was glad to see them go. She was a bit embarrassed not to have been provided underclothes, but put on a stoic face. She hoped whatever she would be wearing was warmer.

Consequently she didn’t pay much attention to Nurse Decker’s bundle, as it certainly looked thick and warm. It appeared to be a one piece jumpsuit, with some techie looking extras in places. Lydia dutifully climbed in feet first, and thought the garment could have been fit just for her. She realized it might have, as at least once during booking she’d been put under a full body scan; she was rather surprised at the effort. The material was perfectly smooth, like rubber, but without hardly any give. Lydia pulled up the top half and began putting her arms in the sleeves, and the nurse moved behind to help her. As the top was pulled on, Lydia got a good look at the sleeves.

She noticed the lack of holes and straps at the ends of the sleeves just as her fingers were scrunched into fists. At the same time, she felt Ramona draw the seem of the straitjacket closed, and move her thumb up it. Mere moments later, the jacket was sealed, all the way up to the top of its high collar. Lydia was too stunned to say anything for a moment, trading mere cuffs for a fully-fledged straitjacket. But her mood brightened slightly at another thought. After all, they couldn’t keep her in this thing all the time, not if they expected her to feed herself and use the toilet.

“What was that, Miss Decker?” She asked. “It kind of felt like a zipper.”

“Much better than that,” stated Ramona, matter of factly. “The seam bonds the two halves together into one material. Better than glue.”

“Glue!” spluttered Lydia, as Ramona pulled her over to the table.

“It’s quite reversible… with the right tools. Now lie facedown on the table.”

Lydia complied, her mind a bit more at ease now that she knew the straitjacket hadn’t been glued on, and a moment later felt the nurse placing something on the small of her back. “What’s that?” Lydia asked nervously, still more wary now.

“It will pull the straps on your arms tight, more gently than I otherwise might,” replied the nurse, continuing to fiddle with it for several moments. “Okay, you can get up now. Put your arms through the strap on the front.”

Lydia slowly complied, realizing she was about to lose what little freedom she had. She found herself wondering what kind of choice it was, to have her left or right arm trapped below the other. She put her right arm through on top after her left arm, and felt Ramona tugging at the straps a bit before hearing a click. She heard and felt as Ramona input a series of commands to the device.

As expected, the straps at the ends of the sleeves started tightening, pulling her arms into a tight hug. Unexpected was for other parts of the straitjacket to start moving. Material around her wrists tightened, preventing any chance of pulling her arms into her sleeves. The material around her ankles did likewise. The strap in front of her arms pulled tight as well, until there was no slack. More impressive, the already close fitting jacket began pulling tighter, until it fit like a glove. It happened so quickly and smoothly Lydia barely had time to gasp, and decided she would be gladly rid of that device. So she was a bit confused when the next thing the nurse retrieved was a pair of high-heeled boots.

“Do I really have to wear those, Miss Deckard? I’m not sure how well I can walk in those things. My balance.... isn’t so good at the moment.” Lydia didn’t hold out much hope for asking nicely to work, but she figured she might as well try.

Sure enough, her pleas fell on deaf ears. “That’s kind of the point, dear. Although it shouldn’t be too bad, since most of the station isn’t at standard g. Now sit down on the table.”

Lydia reluctantly complied, not wanting the nurse to get rough with her. Ramona slid the first boot onto Lydia’s foot, then sealed the seem along the back in the same manner as the jacket, before completing a similar operation along the top of the boot, sealing it to the uniform to ensure it wouldn’t come off. This was repeated for the other foot.

Lyida was about to get down and attempt walking when the nurse pulled out another set of fetters and fastened them around Lydia’s booted heels. Lydia wanted to scream in frustration, but it surely wouldn’t help now. Lydia idly wondered if they were even locked, as it was hardly necessary, but assumed they were.

“Okay, you can get down now.”

Lydia slid off the table, and took several moments finding her balance standing, before she attempted to walk. Walking was difficult, to say the least, and she only managed a few mincing steps before things got worse.

“I think that’s enough for now. Your uniform is nearly complete.”

Lydia turned around slowly, afraid of what she’d see, and saw what Ramona was holding. It looked like a tangle of straps and a little something else. Lydia tried to back away from Ramona as fast as she could, but tripped, falling on her back with a gasp. Ramona was on her like a panther, pressing something onto her face, into her mouth. Lydia’s eyes widened at the gag, and she tried to struggle, but it was as hopeless as you’d expect from a woman wearing a straitjacket and fettered. The gag went into her mouth, and the mask was pushed onto her face, covering her lower face and jaw, with a short bit over her nose. Lydia’s pleas were now only barely intelligible as words. Then Ramona pulled Lydia’s hair into a ponytail, pushing it through a ring. After this was accomplished, Ramona connected several straps from the mask to the ring, over and under the ears, and finally over Lydia’s head. These were sealed to the ring like the boots and jacket.

Lydia thought that perhaps it was finally over, but Ramona had one more item for the ensemble: a high tech collar. Ramona was still trying to get back up, to plead with Ramona to take the gag out as best she could while muffled, when Ramona clicked it in place around Lydia’s neck, at the top of the jacket’s collar. It seemed designed to connect somehow, and once it had, Ramona did something to the mask. She pulled a pair of tubes from the mask, and snaked them under Lydia’s ears to connect to the back of the collar with a click.

Moments later, the mask came to life. A pair of tubes thrust themselves up Lydia’s nose, while the gag in her mouth expanded, muffling her voice completely. Lydia found she was only capable of a very quiet mewling noise. She began to worry she might suffocate when the nasal tubes started pumping air, and she could breath normally again.

“You’re probably wondering what all that is for, “ said Ramona, her expression now cruel, and Lydia silently agreed as she attempted to get to her feet. “One of those tubes is your air supply. See, just in case someone dangerous escapes, and removes their mask, we pump in a special knockout gas. This gas only affects those who ingest a particular drug. That way we don’t need to wear respirators all the time. All patients and prisoners have the drug mixed with their food. Speaking of which, it’s time for your meal.”

Lydia was horrified when a thick fluid came from the gag, leaving her no choice but to swallow.

“As you might surmise, this means we don’t have to remove the straitjacket, or even the gag, in order for you to be fed and watered,” continued Ramona, ignoring Lydia’s appalled look at her phrasing. “Furthermore, the suit absorbs and recycles all bodily waste, so we don’t have to let you out to use the bathroom either, or top off the nutrient fluid more than once a week or so.”

Lydia had wanted to stay strong for all this, but this was simply too much. She found herself beginning to cry, then sobbing as well as she was able.

“Now stop that, we can’t have you wasting that water. It’s hard to keep track of in a place like this, and we don’t want to mess up our recycling system by letting the fluid out.” Ramona’s tone was now openly mocking, as she pressed a series of buttons on the device attached to the suit.

No sooner was she finished, when a mass of “excess” material around the hair ring began expanding along the straps, and within moments had encased Lydia’s entire head. Unable to see, she began thrashing about; as much as she could. Ramona just watched, letting Lydia tire herself out. Finally, exhausted due to her exertions and limited air supply, Lydia curled into a ball.

“Done? Well it’s time to get up, I need to get you to your cell. If you’re a good girl I might even remove the hood.”

Lydia was having none of this, and thought she was entirely too tired regardless. She decided to force Ramona to drag her there. But after a few moments of lying there, Lydia felt a painful electric shock from the collar, and would have let out a yelp if not for the gag.

“What, did you think that collar was just for show? Get up, or I turn up the power.”

Hearing the anticipatory tone of Ramona’s voice, Lydia slowly started to rise, trying to get her feet underneath her, but slipped and fell down halfway. Ramona delivered another shock, and so Lydia tried again, and succeeded.

“Good girl. Not good enough to get privileges back, but I think I have something to help you along.” Lydia heard a click, and then felt a tug on her collar. She took a step forward to keep from falling, and then the sharp tug became a steady pull. Ramona had put a leash on her! Humiliation and the resulting indignation gave her the edge she needed to keep walking.

Lydia was forced to follow Ramona along for several minutes, during which time Ramona hummed a cheerful tune. Finally, the tugging ceased, and the hiss of a hatch was heard. “Here we are!” Ramona declared cheerfully, before giving Lydia a shove through the door. Lydia slammed into the floor, but found it absorbed the impact well, being padded. She barely had time to process being in an honest to goodness padded cell before she heard the door shut behind her.

Lydia clumsily rolled onto her back, and simply lay there for several minutes, recovering her strength. She was about to get up when her entire cell seemed to lurch. Moments later, she felt herself get considerably lighter, and realized that the cell was being removed from the spinning portion of the station, ending the artificial gravity. She floated up into the air before hitting a wall, or the ceiling, before flying across the cell again. Lydia realized the cell was moving, but there was little she could do about it. If she had her arms she might be able to react better, or even do so with her feet, but since she couldn’t see at all, she was resigned to rattling about like a die in a cup. This jostling ended soon enough; however, and as Lydia bounced gently off a wall again, finally something good happened, and the hood around her head retracted.

Lydia found herself in a cube roughly 10 feet on a side, with padded white walls. The cell was lit by sturdy looking lights embedded in the edges of the cube, casting everything in a washed out tone, and leaving no shadows. After a brief time looking around, Lydia gave up even trying to find the door, as the walls were paneled so as to hide its seems.

Just as the situation began to sink in, Lidia felt her ankles pulling together. Looking own, she saw that the connector between her ankle shackles was shrinking, and before long her shackles were only an inch apart, held rigidly together.
Lydia realized that now, without being able to use her legs separately, she would be essentially unable to navigate the room. She couldn’t even try to scoot into a corner, all she could do was float aimlessly about the room, changing where she pointed by twisting her body. She had no way of telling how long she had been in the cell, save perhaps counting her own heartbeats, and it wouldn’t matter even if she could. She had no way of knowing when she would be let out, as apparently she had adequate food and water for some time. Escape was laughable. Even if she could get out of her bindings, before the gas might take effect, and somehow open the door, she suspected at this point that her cell was drifting in vacuum. And so, exhausted and despairing, denied even the most basic right of a prisoner to pace around their cell, Lydia began to sob again. Moments later, she found her head encased once more. Sobbing, until there were no more tears, she fell asleep in darkness.