Free Song of the Navigator by Astrid Amara

muscles began to clench in terrified anticipation of the repercussions of failure. If he didn’t jump these women, he would suffer worse than before.
    Tover began to breathe rapidly. He rested his head against his outstretched arms, thinking desperately. What the fuck was he going to do?
    â€œTover.”
    A rough slap against the side of his head jerked him upright. Savel’s expression was furious.
    â€œGet them out of my sight before I fucking kill them.” Savel glared at the woman in the center, the one who had made eye contact with Tover. She was beautiful, her dark hair loose and wild. But at the moment she looked capable of murdering all the men in the room with her eyes alone.
    â€œGive them to Marco on Jagarbaz Station,” Savel repeated. The only other sound was one of the women sobbing against her gag.
    Tover almost sobbed himself. He knew what was about to happen to him. But he would never be able to look himself in the mirror again if he contributed to these women’s torture.
    He held his tears in, not wanting the other prisoners to see him weak. As he thought this he almost laughed. How absurd that his pride would return now, in the face of such a horrible situation.
    Cherko grabbed the helmet. Tover shook his head. “No.”
    His entire body tensed, ready for the attack against him. The silence stretched. Savel pulled the wire around Tover’s neck tighter, choking him.
    â€œDon’t fuck with me,” Savel hissed. “Fucking jump them!”
    Tover gagged, but shook his head.
    Savel held up his fist to Tover’s face, his eyes red-rimmed. “You really. Do not. Want to piss me off. Not tonight.”
    â€œJust let them go,” Tover whispered.
    Savel’s fist hovered there for a moment. He let out a loud sigh. He reached under the console and pulled out his metal pipe. Nausea swelled through Tover.
    â€œStretch out his legs this time,” Savel said.
    White fear blinded Tover. “No! Please, no, not my legs!”
    Tover shrieked as Savel smashed his knee, hard enough that it splintered like balsa wood. The pain knocked him out. He sputtered back to consciousness soon afterward, soaking wet. Someone had stripped him, doused him with water to awaken him. Savel waited until Tover regained consciousness before assaulting his right leg.
    The beating was worse than before. A heavy blow just above the restraints broke his barely healed left wrist. Cherko smashed the butt of his gun hard across the bridge of his nose, and he thought he would pass out again. A hard kick snapped something in his chest, and pressure and pain exploded through his body.
    Even the bone knitter hadn’t been this bad. Trapped on the console, Tover writhed as Savel yelled profanities and told Tover to complete the orbifold. He could hear the women screaming on the pallets, and he tried to look up, make eye contact, strengthen his resolve. But Savel’s pipe smashed against his left eye and everything went completely dark.
    An explosion sounded somewhere, but Tover couldn’t see. The implants in his ears shot pain through his head at the volume of the explosion. Someone hit his exposed groin and he choked on a sob.
    Off in the distance he heard a cry for help.
    â€œFuck,” he heard Savel curse. “Come on!” Savel took off with a roar. Flashes of brilliant pain became one overwhelming flame in Tover’s body.
    He heard gunfire. Someone in the room screamed, and there was the sound of something large and heavy falling. But none of it mattered. His eye was swelling shut, the sound was overwhelming his senses, and his body hurt so badly he only hoped whatever exploded around them would take him out quickly.
    More gunfire sounded from close by. A voice in the room shouted, “Get out of here!”
    Tover’s left eye was too swollen to see out of, so he turned his head slightly, and out of his right eye saw two armed men in fatigues approach the