<strong>Prisoner: Kate Bartlett<br/>Prisoner Processing Facility</strong><br/><br/>Kate’s shoulders had ached... more than ached. She’d had no idea of how long the journey had been - too long to keep track - but it hadn’t taken long for her shoulder muscles to begin to complain. Every now and then she had adjusted her position; tried to take the pressure off her shoulders and only succeeded in transferring the pain to her wrists, as the metal shackles chafed and began to scratch the skin. For the most part, she had stood with her eyes closed. There was nothing to see. Throughout most of the transfer her mind had drifted, wondering how on earth she was going to survive this. But then of course she wasn’t going to survive it. She was here forever unless the rumours about ‘transfers’ were more than that. No-one wanted her to survive and there was no purpose in surviving. Surviving one day simply led to another day of the same nightmare. It was genuinely a nightmare from which there was no escape. ‘Wasn’t that a tag-line in a movie?’ she mindlessly thought to herself. Hardly important. No escape except... except death! But she wasn’t the kind of person who would give up because everything looked hopeless.<br/><br/>But this wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. This kind of thing happened to other people, to people who employed her to try and prevent it happening to them. She had been relatively successful too, losing count of how many people she had helped legitimately avoid the state’s... and Gen-Tech’s... vicious inhuman grip. Sure, some of them – although by no means all – may have committed some fairly hideous crimes, but nothing justified the correctional punishment that was now commonplace. But then that was the problem wasn’t it? She’d been too clever, too smart; she’d been too arrogant and this is where it led her.<br/><br/>She had been taken by surprise when the sub had started to dock, falling forward a little and the shackles had cut deeper into her wrists; the red raw marks were still clearly evident. She had stiffled a groan, lest anyone accuse her of speakiing, as she found her balance and acclimatized to the deceleration of the sub.  After docking, it hadn’t taken long before the hatch had been opened and they had gotten their first look at the sterile facility which was now ‘home’. She had expected to be unshackled at that point but instead the overhead track had begun to move, taking her attached wrists with it and she, along with the other prisoners, had had no choice but to walk. Any notion that she was anything other than “the property of the Gen-Tech Corporation” was firmly removed as she had been stripped and ‘processed’ through a series of machines and scanners. The guards had taken no more notice of them than if they had been carcasses of meat. It was clearly a routine. There had been no conversation of any kind. No passing comments; not even discussion between them. But for the relatively smooth operation of the motors in the over-head track and the scanners, the only thing which broke the silence had been the groans and the squeals as first something was injected into the back of their necks and then, a few minutes later, they had each experienced the blinding electronically induced pain somewhere deep in their heads. The incredible pleasure of her shoulders being released was almost as good as the pain was bad... almost. She dressed quickly and, like everyone else, quietly.  When she saw the guard approaching again with the hadncuffs, she couldn't help but look up. She was relieved that there was nothing above her to which the cuffs could be reattached, and she actually sighed with relief when her wrists were merely secured in front of her. And now, like everyone else, she waited. Something told her that the experiences she had gone through in the last 12 hours were to be nothing compared to what was coming. That was the extent of her rational thought at that moment. Of course Kate was scared. Who wouldn't be? But the fear did not incapacitate her or deprive her of the ability to think straight. What scared her most perhaps was the idea that thinking had no place here; it possibly wasn't what was going to keep her alive and it might even get her killed. But the only thing to do right now was wait.<br/>