[u][b]Indianapolis International Airport - Prisoner In-Processing[/u][/i]

Despair. The air reeked of it. She could see it on the face of the other prisoners...only a few days ago masters of all they surveyed. 

When you first joined a Crew and went a' Raiding, it seemed like being a King. You could go where you want, and do what you want as you had your Crew watching your back. The Squares just gave you what you wanted, food, chems, sex, [i]whatever[/i], because you had power and they didn't. Of course, you learned quick that there were limits...jumping the claim of a stronger Crew had consequences. And then there were Squares who had the power to fight back. Working her way up to the top of her Crew, the older Raiders had told her stories of Ill-Annoy, to the West...a magical land where the even the poorest Squares were rich by Wasteland standards and didn't even lock their doors at night. When she, or later, a noob, asked them why they didn't go Raiding there and glom onto their stuff....they would look at each other knowingly and then laugh at you like you were retarded. 

"Ya want to end up like the Otters, fucktard?", they'd say. Eventually, she got the story out of Eddie....a Underboss she'd slept with for a while to gain support for her move to take over her Set during her climb up the ladder...about the Otters, and why they stayed far away from Ill-Annoy. The Otters were a large Crew that controlled E-ville, down South, at the time, thirty years ago or so. They liked boats, and would raid on the River. They had a good thing going, but their Boss decided to try and Raid West, all the way to the Big Muddy, to a town called Kay-row. River trade ran right though it, the haul of booty would be enormous. Their Boss, Razor, thought it would be the biggest Raid of his career. He had over seven hundred soldiers, his own and smaller Crews that paid him Tribute, how could he fail? So he collected his fleet, and headed West with half his Crew...never to return. Not alive anyway.....about a week later, a fleet of iron ships came up the river and pounded the shit out of E-Town with artillery, then landed troops in fucking [i]power armor[/i] who wiped out any of Razor's Crew that didn't run....except for a few they spared to send a message. They say that they were taken on-board the Boss ship, to find Razor and his Underbosses swinging from it's yardarms. Then they let them go and told them anyone else who fucked with the Brotherhood would get more of the same. After that, the Crews in Indiana stayed the hell out of Ill-Annoy. 

So from then on, the old hands at Raiding knew they were living on borrowed time...and for the Colts, that time had finally run out. Last week, she had ran a Crew of fifty, plus their slaves and noobs looking for a shot at being soldiers. Now, her soldiers were dead or up on crosses, her slaves gone....and she was reduced to being the bitch of a some brat in her late teens who probably didn't weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, just the kind of Square she'd dragged off a farm for the auction block a dozen times or more.          

Icepick scratched at the skin around her neck under her shock collar as she obediently shuffled past the line of other prisoners, waiting their turn, as the guard behind her prodded her along with the end of her baton into the room. 

"See those footprints by the table there?", the guard said firmly, "stand on them and await instructions." She then prodded her again with the baton. As Icepick did what she was told, the guard went to the desk and handed a folder to the guard there. 

"This one is Priority, Stahl wants to question her stat", the guard said, "We need to process her now."

"Right, the desk clerk responded, "Angie! We got one for you!"

A hatchet-faced woman in her forties came out and approached Icepick, dropping a plastic box on the table in front of her. 

"Strip", she barked, "everything into the box."

Icepick numbly complied, stripping completely naked as ordered, and putting everything in the box. When it came to the last item, a locket around her neck that was her last tie to the family she'd run away from at fifteen, she hesitated. The younger guard moved to wield her baton, but Angie bade her stop. 

"From your mom?", Angie asked, her tone softening slightly. Icepick nodded sadly. Angle pulled out a small envelope and held it open for Icepick to remove the locket and put it inside. "I'll attach it to your file, I can't promise what the Inquisitor will do, but if you cooperate you may get it back. Rest of your shit's forfeit, though."

"Thanks", Icepick said. 

"Don't mention it", Angie said as she pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and put them on. "you can pay me back by not giving me any trouble with the cavity search." She then reached out and put her thumb on Icepick's chin. "open your mouth, please."

Icepick tamely complied as Angie conducted a full cavity search...partially out of gratitude, and partially because she'd seen them shock a prisoner from a different Set until he shit and pissed himself for taking a poke at a guard. At this point, she just wanted to get things over with. Once satisfied, Angie waved her in the direction of the showers, and the two guards followed her in and watched her bathe. The fire hose on one wall was a mute reminder of the price of noncompliance so once again, she did as she was told. Once bathed, a towel was tossed at her and she dried off, and placed the town into a basket. Then she was stood up against a wall, where Angie photographed her ink, front, back, and side. Then she was led down the opposite hall to a new room, where a woman measured her, and she was issued a pair of shoes, three pairs of underwear and three orange jumpsuits as well as a wool army blanket. Once dressed, she was photographed again, then taken to the holding block, where the brat turned her over to the guards there and left. Icepick was taken to a cell, and after a brief explanation of the sparse furnishings, locked inside. 

The cell was small, with a cot, a steel toilet and sink, with a polished piece of steel for a mirror, and a small cabinet for her spare clothes. There was also a small television, behind a pane of some kind of thick glass. Next to it were some  buttons. Experimenting with them, she found she could turn on the set, adjust the volume, and change the channel. There were four channels, one had news, the Brotherhood's version of it, anyway, one just had words and what looked like times scrolling across the screen slowly...she didn't read so good but it appeared that it was showing some sort of schedule. One had a movie, not a Pre-War movie, but a new one....apparently it was about the Legion. She watched as a huge Crew of Legion soldiers, by the look of it many thousands of them, marched in perfect step down a old highway in what looked like the middle of nowhere, towards a small settlement. But there was no fighting, the people of the town just stood alongside the road and cheered as they marched by. According to the man on TV, they had been expected, they were coming to help the Brotherhood fight the Cult, yet another diplomatic triumph of the 'great and wise' Lord-Paladin Barnaky. Just watching the endless steam of what they called Legionaries pass by the camera made her ill....they had never stood a chance against those kind of numbers....how in hell did Lee think they would be able to fight the Legion and the Brotherhood? He must have been huffing the shit the Cult soldiers were all hooked on if he thought they could win against a Crew that big. All the Cult had sent them to "help" was a bunch of asshole 'advisors' who fucked off into the sewers once the assault came, and left them to be butchered.....by fucking[i] kids[/i]! Except for thier leader, a scary Legion fucker named Tullius, none of the group that tore her Crew to shreds could have been older than twenty.  

Fuck, she had been so stupid. She had listened to Lee and his bullshit, and because of it she had lost everything. Her raiding days were done...if she was lucky the Brotherhood would shoot her themselves rather than hand her over to the Legion to die on a cross, like Jesus did in the barely remembered stories mom had told her when she was a little girl. She hadn't thought of Mom in years...if only she could go home and tell her she was sorry for how things had worked out. She had run away to join a Crew because she was tired of being a nobody at the mercy of people with the numbers and guns to take what they wanted. only to find that it had all been for nothing....she was right back where she was when she was fifteen. She wasn't even thirty yet and her life was over.

If only she'd listened to her mother.....