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Lily sat in the Centauran shuttle pod and watched out the window as the Argonaut, along with one of the Centauran explorer ships, went to warp and suddenly she felt very alone and isolated.

“Alien vessel has left the system as ordered, Prime Minister,” said the deputy.

“Good, once we are back on the Voyager, take our alien prisoner to the brig, while I inform the World Matriarchy of our mission outcome,” said Kulei.

“Yes ma’am,” said the deputy.

Lily noticed the other women of the group gave her a sympathetic look, before turning back to their consoles.


One week later.

Lily sat in a fetus ball on the prison bunk, wondering why she hadn’t just punched the Centauran Prime Minister in the face again, rather than surrendered to her. To her mind, the trial was not fair and just. While she had been allowed to offer a defense to the three old judges, they hadn’t given her any legal advice or representation, nor had they given her any leeway for accidental transgression.

“Trespassing was trespassing whatever the reason. Six weeks remanded prison sentence,” was all the main judge had said.

The only court approved punishment was solitary confinement. “To prevent contamination from, or to, the alien.”

Kulei had look shocked at the outcome, before the big male and female guards had taken Lily by a security shuttle from the court to a rather architecturally attractive building. Once there they proceeded to take finger prints, iris scans, blood samples and various body measurements before shaving every hair off her body, putting her in their itchy cotton-like prison clothes and confining her in a small holding cell with a force field door.

The cell had a bed, a chair and table and a bucket. What was worse was everything was a pastel soft blue or yellow color. There was no window in this cell and the only source of light came from the force field cell door. The worst thing for Lily was they played some sort of elevator music all day, which had been just annoying at first but was getting maddening with every passing minute. She thought since her meals were delivered twice a day by small robots, Lily currently estimate that about a week had passed since her arrest, the lack of contact with other people meant she was unsure if she had counted the number of meal correctly. Lily feared that cabin fear had begun to set in, as she was sleeping more and talking to herself.

The other irritating thing was that her meals were an alien sort of muesli in the morning that was foul. In the evening it was a thick porridge that she could have reset impulse engine coolant conduits with and was about as tasty as cement. The glass of water with the meal was the most palatable thing she had during her confinement.

While the food was terrible, the cutlery and plates and glasses were always different and all greater works of art, not what she would have expected for prison fare. Indeed it was studying them that gave her something to focus on, plus she hope it was a small signal that maybe the Centauran authorities really understood she wasn’t just another prisoner.

Then one of the small robots arrived. She looked at it and it played a short audio message: “Alien prisoner will submit to guards for another round of hair removal tomorrow morning after first meal.” Then it beeped and went away again.
“I’ve a name--it is Lily Fitzroy!” she screamed at the robot. Then she lay down on the bed and started to cry.


Four Weeks Later

Ambassador Senvik walked with the prison governor to check on Commodore Lily Fitzroy. The Vulcan had arrived about three weeks earlier to try and resolve the diplomatic issues with the Centaurans and secure the release of the commodore.
This morning she had finally been granted permission to see the commodore in prison.

“Just through here, Ambassador,” said the prison governor.
“Thank you,” said Senvik.

Senvik stepped through the door, past the guard and into the corridor. The governor followed her as they both walked down the corridor to the cell.

Both reached the cell at the same time. It took both a moment to understand the scene before them.

“Oh my… Guards, get a doctor now!” called the prison governor.

“I take it the commodore’s poor condition is a surprise to you?” asked Senvik.

“Yes!” said the governor.

Both women looked at the commodore’s naked body. She lay shaking on the bed and was covered with a nasty blister rash everywhere the Centauran cotton clothes had been in direct contact with her skin.

Clearly she had scratched some of them, for now, some of them look infected and septic.

“I believe your prison welfare for aliens isn’t as good as you had me believe,” said Senvik.


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