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EARTH DATE: JUNE 21
Sol Star System, Starship Exanthus
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DAY AFTER DAY PASSED as the ship maintained its orbit around Jupiter’s moon, Elara. The newest captive aboard the Exanthus remained deeply sedated as her body was transformed by alien technology. Completely unaware of the desperate search going on seven hundred million kilometers away, her body fought to survive the radical changes taking place inside it.
One by one, the other women captured from earth in the weeks prior, began to die, their bodies unable to adapt to the profound changes demanded by the experiment. The horror of their short existence after the transformation was completed, noted only as scientific data.
When it became apparent that the newest captive would survive, she was transferred to a small cell where she could be observed as needed and her biometrics read by the computer sensors embedded in the sleeping ledge. A warming sheet was drawn over her naked body to keep her temperature stable, and she was left to awaken on her own.
The first thing Brooke felt as she woke up was how her body ached. She felt like she had been run over by a train, and it had backed up. She cautiously eased onto her side and frowned. This was not her bed and she had no pillow. She opened her eyes. Where was she? Looking around, she could see that she was alone in a darkened room. As she studied the unfamiliar design of the walls, her heart began to race as terrifying memories arose. The cold dark eyes of the alien being who’d captured her swam through her mind, and she moaned. Swallowing back the tiny sound, she sat up. Had it been a nightmare? Please, let it have been a dream. More memories surfaced. Not being able to move. Hearing the evil in his voice. His plans. Oh, god. His sick twisted plans. Nausea surged, but she fought it off, breathing deeply even as the memory of the lid of a silver capsule closing over her made her tremble. The terror of that moment crashed over her once again and she forced herself to concentrate on her breathing. Think, Brooke, think. She took slow deep breaths as she tried to figure out what she needed to do. Escape, of course, but how she could get away from aliens on a spaceship she had no idea.
Carefully, she sat up and set her feet on the floor, soft overhead lights coming on with her movement. She couldn’t stop shaking and realized with a shiver that she was still naked. Damn, Damn, Damn. What had they done to her? She couldn’t let herself think about that right now. She needed to find a way out of here. Later. Later there would be time to panic.
She grabbed the blanket off the bed and dragged it around herself, tucking the ends in as she looked around for a door. There wasn’t one. Anywhere. No doors, no windows. Her heart began to race again, her breathing speeding up. Oh, god. Oh, god.
She took a deep calming breath, then another. You can do this, Brooke, you can do this. Just be calm and think about it. They brought her in here somehow, and if there was a way in, then there was a way out.
She approached the nearest wall and began to run her hands systematically over the smooth surface, looking for any indications of an entrance. Later, hours or minutes, she had no way of knowing, she slid down one of those perfectly smooth walls and sat with her knees drawn up. There was no way out.
She took a deep breath and then another. She would not panic. She absolutely would not panic. She shoved a length of hair back over her shoulder again, irritated that it kept getting in her way, then froze. Her hand trembled as she reached up and felt her hair. It was no longer in the short no-nonsense style that she had kept it in for the last fifteen years. In fact, as she slid her hands down the soft silky length, she realized that it reached her waist. What the heck was going on!
She jolted to her feet and, reaching back, she gathered her hair and drew it forward. It cascaded down her shoulder and over her breast, a deep shimmering wave of purple that would never have naturally occurred. But the colour didn’t shock her as much as what she saw next. She looked, really looked at her shaking hands. They didn’t look like her hands, she thought as a small whimper escaped. Her hands had been different. Not so slender, the start of age lines just appearing, and the beginnings of arthritis in her knuckles giving them a slightly swollen appearance.
She ran her hands over her face, searching for answers to questions that were too terrifying to even consider. She swallowed against the dryness that suddenly invaded her mouth, unwrapped the sheet and stared down at her body. Firm breasts, slim waist, flat stomach, bare woman parts, and long slim legs... wait! Bare woman parts? She yanked the sheet tightly closed and slumped weakly against the wall. A deep breath and then another. Oh god. What had they done? What had they done to her?