Eva gritted her teeth as she listened to the captains cheerful intercom message. It galled her that the bitch could be so flippant about what she was doing, almost as much as it galled her she, an experience agent who'd dealt with the toughest slavers out there, had let herself be captured by this obnoxious playgirl.<br/><br/>After her escape attempt the last time the Lost Hope had made port, the slaver crew had decided that Eva should stay in a solitary confinement cell until they were off world again. They'd shackled her wrists to the ceiling, forcing her to stand, and left her in the tiny, bare cell. With nothing to do, the former agent just stood there, stewing in her rage. Despite her efforts, she couldn't take her mind of her situation, and it infuriated her; the cell was well air-conditioned, and the constant air current across her naked skin was not only uncomfortably cold, it was also a constant reminder of her forced nudity. She desperately missed the familiar feel of her uniform, and the authority it conveyed, even more, she missed the weight of her guns around her waist. Now all she had was the negligible weight of the ridiculous panties they made her wear.<br/><br/>Eva let out an angry scream, bellowing at nothing in her frustration. It would accomplish nothing, she knew; the cell was probably sound proofed anyway, but it helped her keep her thoughts straight, helped her keep angry. She was finding that whenever she let herself calm down, she would start to feel the despair closing in. She got by by turning it into anger instead, but it was taking a lot out of her. She was starting to get tired, both mentally, and physically.