THE TREOS DILEMMA
Book III of the VINDICATORS series
by William L. Lavell
© 2012 by William L. Lavell
SMASHWORDS EDITION
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced – mechanically, electronically, or by any other means, including photocopying – without written consent of the author.
Cover Art was produced by William L. Lavell using images
© Chris Harvey that were obtained from www.dreamstime.com with permission.
ISBN – 1470016591
Printed in the United States of America.
First printing - February 2012
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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PROLOGUE
Where am I?
She woke up in an unfamiliar room. The brightness of the lights burned her eyes, and her nose was assaulted by the odors of disinfectant and recycled air. She couldn’t tell what was going on in the space around her at first. All she could make out was a big, bright blur. Slowly, the room started to come into focus. When she could finally see clearly, the sight that met her eyes made her long for the blur again.
As her haze began to clear, she became aware that she was lying on her back, looking up. Then she noticed that her hand was resting on something cold. She tried to move her arm away, but it wouldn’t move. When she looked down, she could see that she was in an examination chair. Her arm wouldn’t move because her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair with thin metal straps.
“She’s coming to,” she heard a deep, masculine voice say. “Prepare the serum.”
She reached her hands out as far as the straps would allow, and was surprised when she felt the hem of a medical gown. When she took another look down, she saw her bare legs, which were bound to the chair by her ankles using similar metal straps. The thin cushions of the chair provided no comfort, and their surface was cold against the skin that was left exposed by her short medical gown. She let out a gasp as she realized that the gown was all she was wearing. She could feel the cold air on her bare feet, and she shivered. Her legs jerked involuntarily, causing the unforgiving restraints around her ankles to dig into them.
Her eyes were focusing well now, almost too well. That allowed her to see that there were two men standing over her, looking down as she looked up. The first man she’d never seen before. He was younger, and a bit on the slim side. Judging by the lab coat and scrubs he wore, she figured that he was a Lab Tech. Aside from the fact that his staring was making her uncomfortable, she knew nothing else about him.
The second man, however, needed no introduction. She would have recognized him anywhere. He was older and taller than the first man, and he had a considerably larger build. He was clean-shaven, with a jaw that looked like it was chiseled out of stone. Everything else about him was dark. His piercing eyes, his short-cropped hair, and his military uniform. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Fleet Commander Straker staring down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. She couldn’t be sure if he was just enjoying his triumph, or if he was getting special enjoyment from her predicament. The thought of either possibility sent a chill through her. She decided to occupy her mind with other topics.
“Wh- Where...? Where am I?” The words finally fell from her lips, but they were slow in coming.
“You are in Dagmar Prison.” Straker’s voice was as chilly as the room. “For the last two days, you have been our special guest.”
Her words were coming faster now. “What do you want from me?”
The commander sneered. “Why information, of course.”
“What are you talking about?” she stammered. “I don’t know anything.”
“Oh I’m sure you know plenty, my dear.” He leaned in so that his face was almost touching her cheek. “You could start by telling me where the Augustine Resistance is hiding.”
“They’re not hiding,” she said angrily. “Your men murdered them all.”
“That’s exactly what Jace Ryan told me before he escaped from us,” the commander replied. “Why don’t you tell me where he is?”
She felt his breath on her ear, and it made her shudder involuntarily.
“Jace?” The mention of his name focused her mind. “Escaped?”
Of course he had. She knew that if there was anybody in the Augustine camp that could be captured by Commander Straker and get away alive, it was Jace Ryan. She allowed herself to smile at the thought.
“I don’t know where he is,” she said defiantly. “But even if I knew, you’d be the last person I’d tell.”
“We’ll see about that,” the Commander replied. “We have something here that may change your mind.” He then turned to the man in the lab coat and nodded. “You may begin.”
The man in the lab coat picked up a large needle and a small vial from his instrument tray. She couldn’t make out the writing on the label, only that it was black and orange. The Lab Tech drew some serum from the vial, and then started towards her with the needle.
“Wait,” she protested. “What are you doing? What is that?”
“I’m going to inject you with a chemical called Compound 50,” the Lab Tech replied with a less than comforting smile. “Although you may know it better as Samathine. But don’t worry. This shouldn’t hurt. Much.”
“No!” She struggled against the straps, but they just dug into her skin as they held her fast. “What the hell is Samathine?”
The Tech none-too-gently jabbed the needle into the side of her neck. Her entire body tensed, and she let out an involuntary whimper as the tech pushed the plunger in and the serum ran into her bloodstream.
“No!” she repeated. “Get away from me!”
Straker pushed the Lab Tech aside and grabbed her by the throat. “Now my dear. Sooner or later, you will tell me everything I want to know.”
“No!” She struggled against her bonds again, but the attempt didn’t get her any further than her others had.
The serum burned as it passed through her body, from her neck down into her chest. Then she could feel the burn as it passed through her heart and out to her limbs. Not only was it burning inside, but her skin felt like it was on fire too. It was getting harder to remember. Harder to think. Harder to breathe. A hazy darkness was beginning to creep into her mind. She was blacking out, but at the same time, she was still awake. Still aware.
She was struggling frantically now, but her arms and legs were growing heavier and heavier by the moment. For all the effort she was going to, they weren’t moving very far. Then finally, they didn’t move at all.
It was at that moment when she realized that there truly was no escape for her. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t fight. In a final moment of clarity, it occurred to her that there was only one thing left that she could do.
So with all the strength she had left, Jade Ryan screamed.
CHAPTER ONE
Jace Ryan woke up screaming.
It was the fourth time in as many nights that he’d had the same terrifying dream. It was so vivid it was as though he were sitting in the chair being interrogated instead of his sister. It was so vivid he could count the hairs peeking out from underneath Commander Straker’s uniform cap. It was so vivid that it felt real.
But that couldn’t have happened, he thought. That couldn’t have been real. Could it?
He cursed under his breath as he tried to extricate himself from his blanket, which had tangled up in his limbs while he slept. He roughly shoved it down to his knees. It had taken him so much effort to get the blanket down that far that frustration got the better of him. Even as exhausted as he was, he began kicking at it with both feet to get free of it. He allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction when it finally fell off of the bed and landed in a heap on the floor. He sat up, causing a bead of sweat from his brow to fall into his eye. He wiped at his face clumsily to ease the stinging and ran his fingers through his wavy black hair as he tried to clear his mind.
A shiver ran through him as he took notice of the chilly air of the room on his bare back. Leaning over the side of the bed, he found his shirt crumpled up on the floor where he’d dropped it the night before. It was right next to his boots, which were lying right where he’d kicked them off. He gingerly pulled them on, then picked the shirt up and pulled it on over his head. Then he got out of bed and staggered towards the door of his quarters.
He stopped off at the far side of the room, near a set of drawers that was built into the wall. He pulled out the top one, revealing a sink, and turned on the water. He reached in with both hands and splashed some water on his face. His dark eyes searched his face in the small mirror above the sink. He could see how drawn his cheeks were as drops of water fell off of his dark goatee. He looked worn out, but it wasn’t anything a little sleep wouldn’t fix. He decided that a walk around the ship would calm him down – and maybe wear him out – enough to try to sleep again
He stepped back over to the door, and tapped the control panel on the wall beside it. The door slid open with a gentle whoosh. He was about to take a step into the hallway when he was forced to stop abruptly.
His shipmate Mara was standing in the open doorway.
Ryan, are you alright? She thought to him.
She looked as if she’d hurriedly dressed herself as well. Her auburn hair hung loosely about her neck and shoulders, a contrast to the intricate braid she usually wore it in. She was wearing the jumpsuit she normally wore, but in her haste, she’d left the top few buttons open, revealing much more of herself than she usually did. When he caught himself staring into the gap in the material, he forced himself to stop and bring his gaze back up to her soft green eyes. He hoped that he hadn’t been too obvious in his staring. If he had been, Mara didn’t seem to have taken notice.
“You had the dream again.”
It was a statement rather than a question. There was no need for her to ask him what happened. She already knew. Ever since they’d been hit with that radiation back at the chorian mine on Diablo, they had developed a strange telepathic link. It was strange, at least to him. Before he’d met Mara, he’d had no experience with telepathy whatsoever. But ever since Diablo, telepathy seemed to have become a big part of his life. And he’d apparently shared quite a bit of himself with Mara through their link.
Mara knew things about him without him telling her. They were mostly little things. But they were personal things, things he’d never told anyone before. Things like a song he’d heard that she knew the words to, or a place that he’d been to and she knew the way. He would start telling a story from his past, and she knew how it was going to end before he finished telling it.
At first he saw it as a violation, and more than a little creepy. But as the weeks passed he’d gotten used to feeling her presence in his mind. Now that he was having these damned nightmares, he was actually grateful for it. As soon as he woke up, she seemed to know what had happened to him. From the discomfort on her face, it must have been happening to her too. He found it alarming and yet comforting that she would come and check on him afterwards.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah I did.”
“Was this… like the other times?” she asked uncomfortably. “Did she die this time?”
Every time he’d had the dream, she asked him that question first. She would ask because that was usually how the dream ended. Sometimes, he’d shock himself awake before it got that far. But the dream usually ended with her eventual death. Ryan wasn’t sure why she always asked that first, but she seemed to be gauging just how traumatized he was each time.
“You could look inside my head and see for yourself,” he replied wearily. “Why do you even ask me that?”
“There are two reasons,” she replied. “First, even though our minds share a connection, I respect your privacy. There are things that we both can learn via casual contact through this link. But I would not take anything that you do not wish to share with me.”
Ryan nodded. “Fair enough. What’s the other reason?”
Mara shrugged. “I figured that it might help you to talk about it.”
Ryan gave a deep sigh. “No.”
She looked at him questioningly. “You do not want to talk?”
“N-No,” he stammered. “No, I mean she didn’t die. But she was in a lot of pain, and I woke up before anything else happened. I got the impression she was about to, though. That’s how the dream usually ends. It just seemed so real. I don’t – I never have visions or premonitions. At least I never have before. So it must have been a dream, right? Although I still don’t know for sure what the hell that radiation on Diablo did to me.”
“I do not know,” she replied. “I suppose anything is possible. But Doctor Pryce has scanned both of us, and he does not have an answer, either.”
Ryan thought about Pryce scanning his brain. About all the time he’d spent lying on an exam table in Pryce’s medical bay. The doctor had run his hand scanner around his head in all different directions, subjecting Ryan to a constant chorus of ‘Oh’s and ‘Mm-hm’s the whole time. When he’d finally finished, all Pryce could tell him was that there was no cellular damage to his neural tissues. Other than that, he had no more of an idea of what was going on than before he’d started.
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Please don’t remind me. That’s a good four hours of my life I’ll never get back.”
He knew she was right, though. Talking about the dreams – or maybe it was just talking to her – made him feel better. He was feeling well enough that he found himself staring at her again. His eyes were drawn to the gap the open buttons in the top of her jumpsuit had created. He was staring so dreamily at her that he almost didn’t hear her voice in his mind.
Ryan!
He forced himself to look up at her face again, where he saw an expression that was somewhere between amusement and annoyance.
Really? She thought to him.
“Mara,” he stuttered. “I’m really sorry. I’m exhausted, and more than a little bit distracted.”
“Yes,” she said as she reached up to close the errant buttons. “I can tell you are distracted.”
If she was trying to sound angry, it didn’t sound that way to Ryan. In fact, when the subject of the buttons was closed, literally and figuratively, she met his gaze again. The look of concern had returned to her face.
“I didn’t mean to stare,” he said.
She looked at him askance. Oh no?
“Okay, I did mean to stare, actually.” He grinned weakly at her. “But I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”
She turned her head and looked thoughtful for a moment before leveling a gaze at him again. “Ryan, do you trust me? I mean do you really trust me?”
“Do I what?” He wrinkled his brow. “What kind of question is that?”
“A simple one,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Do you trust me?”
He searched her eyes and saw kindness and concern there. At the same time, he could see her strength. They had only been together on Vindicator for a short time, but they had already been through so much together. They all had. The others had trusted Ryan to lead them from the beginning, but Mara seemed to be particularly drawn to him. And after she discovered that he was a latent telepath, it only seemed to pique her interest.
She even went with him to Diablo to rescue Traynor and try to find his sister, Jade, even though she’d never laid eyes on either of them. When he’d asked her why she was doing it, she had said that she was doing it for him. Every time he seemed to need a friend since he’d come on this ship, she’d been there for him. And he never ceased to be impressed (or amused) at the way she stood up to Marcus. As big and as strong as he was, she didn’t seem to be the least bit intimidated by him.
“Yes,” he replied. “We must have saved each others’ lives about a hundred times by now. And hey, you’re inside my head. So the short answer is: yes, I trust you. Why do you ask?”
“Come to my quarters,” she said. “I want to show you something.”
She took his hand and led him down the corridor to her quarters. He raised an eyebrow as he followed her, wondering exactly what she had in mind.
CHAPTER TWO
Vonn Straker had a plan.
It was totally against procedure. In fact it went against every instinct he had, and everything he’d ever been taught. But somehow he had a feeling that it might work. Six months after their escape, Jace Ryan and his crew were still at large, and all attempts to catch them were proving ineffective. He and his men had tried satellite tracking and system-by-system searches, but they’d turned up nothing. They’d tried computer traces each time Ryan’s on-board computer accessed the DataNet, but each time they got a fix on the ship’s location, it was already gone in the time it took to get a cruiser there. In their desperation, they’d even resorted to using bounty hunters. But so far, they hadn’t proven to be any more effective than Straker’s own men.
The Board was running out of patience. The last time she’d met with the Board of Directors, the Old Men had made it clear to Aarla that they wanted Ryan stopped, or they wanted a new man commanding their forces. Straker knew that he was running out of time and chances to bring them in.
After all this time, Straker had come to understand that his standard tactics weren’t going to work. That in order for his men to be effective, he was going to have to resort to different and more unorthodox tactics than he was used to using. He understood that technology and hired killers weren’t going to solve this problem. If he was going to beat Ryan, he had to be smarter, and do something he wouldn’t be expecting. All he had to do now was make Aarla understand it.
At this meeting, he was going to get his chance. Aarla had summoned his cruiser back to Corporate Headquarters on the planet Olympia from halfway across the galaxy for this meeting. He assumed that it would be to personally impress upon him just how important it was that he capture Ryan. As if he didn’t already know. Still, it seemed to make her feel better to let him know this as often as possible, especially right after times when the Board had seen fit to remind her.
He was standing at the door of his shuttle ready to leave before it even touched down on the landing pad. Before he stepped out, he called over his shoulder to the officer at the controls.
“Wait with the ship. This shouldn’t take long.”
Without another word, he climbed out of the shuttle. He expected to see a lot of activity on the grounds of Corporate Headquarters as he walked purposefully towards the entry door. There were a lot fewer people around on this day than usual. Every trooper knew him on sight, so he was one of the few people who could walk into this building without being challenged to produce an ID. Instead, the men greeted him with stiff salutes as he passed through the doors.
The mood inside the building was tense. There were very few people in the corridors, and the few that were there seemed to be moving with purpose. The presence of another officer of Straker’s standing seemed to put the men even more on edge.
A young officer stopped in his path and saluted him. Straker couldn’t remember snapping to attention as sharply even when he was at Academy.
“Fleet Commander Straker,” he said loudly. “Please follow me, Sir. The President is expecting you.”
Straker followed along as the young officer hurriedly escorted him the rest of the way to the President’s office. The officer opened the outer door of the office and saluted Straker again. As he half-heartedly returned the salute, Straker did his best to hide his exasperation with all the formality.
The president’s office at Corporate Headquarters was truly a sight to behold. The plush carpet stretched from one end of the room to the other, a bright field of red. A flag with the Company logo, an eagle with spread wings clutching a large upper case H flanked by an upper case I and C, hung on the wall behind a large wooden desk. The flag was surrounded by flags on poles which represented each of the worlds that the Company controlled in the Three Systems. All the trimmings in the room were designed to display the grandeur of the Company, and of the office of the President at the top of it.
But Vonn Straker had seen the office far too many times to be impressed.
Aarla was seated behind her desk when he entered the office. She was leaning with her elbows on the desktop while she rested her head in her hands. She slowly raised her head to look up at Straker as he entered the room.
She’d no doubt tried her old standby trick of dressing to the nines for her latest meeting with the Board. She was dressed in her finest lacy gown, with her clingiest body stocking underneath. She’d no doubt had her makeup and hair done perfectly at the start, but now her appearance was much less polished than her usual standard. Her makeup was faded and her mussed hair hung loosely about her shoulders. Her eyes were glazed, and her cheeks were drawn. To say that she looked exhausted would have been an understatement.
She made eye contact with him to acknowledge his presence, but didn’t bother to stand when he came into the room. In his years as Fleet Commander, he’d learned not to expect such pleasantries from her. She motioned with her hand towards a leather-clad chair in front of her desk. He sat down with the knowledge that during this visit, this was about as pleasant as she was likely to get.
“I see you’ve come back from a board meeting, Madam President.” His tone was a bit teasing. He had also learned that he could get away with the odd jab from time to time in her presence.
She glared across the desk at him. Her eyes usually seemed as hard as diamonds when she looked at people like this. He’d been on the receiving end of enough of these looks to know. But instead of making her look more intimidating, her glare just made her face look even more washed out. He could see that clearly she was in no mood for levity today.
“You and I are being criticized by the entire board for our handling of ‘The Beauregard Incident’, as they’re calling it now. Our careers – yours and mine – are in jeopardy over this.”
Straker bristled. “With all due respect, Ma’am, maybe if you just told the Board that you allowed Ryan to escape the transport, and told them why, they might be a little more understanding.”
“Understanding?” Aarla scoffed at the suggestion. “You seriously expect me to tell the Board that I allowed a prisoner – four prisoners, actually – to escape a prison transport on purpose?”
Straker nodded. “That is the truth, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly why I’m not going to tell them that,” the president snapped. “I expected Ryan to lead us to the last remnants of the Augustine Resistance, not start his own personal reign of terror. Do you honestly think the Board would believe the truth now?”
“So you misjudged the situation,” Straker said reassuringly. “The best way to smooth things over with the Board is probably to just acknowledge that, and move on.”
“Commander,” she said sharply. “Do you have anything to report?”
Straker could see that she was in no mood for advice, either. Reluctantly, he stopped giving it and responded to the question. “I regret to say that I don’t, Ma’am. We’ve been looking for weeks now, but there’s been no sign of Ryan or his ship.”
“It has been six months since Ryan and his crew escaped,” she said sternly. “The Board is screaming for them to be taken into custody! We have to put a stop to this now.”
Straker put on his most formal of tones. “Understood Madam President. With that in mind, I’ve devised a new plan to bring them out of hiding.”
Aarla signed heavily. “Another military operation?”
“Not this time, Ma’am. Our usual strategies don’t seem to be producing any results. I think at this point, we need to try a different approach.”
“A different approach?” Aarla gave him a questioning glance. “Intriguing.”
“Yes,” he replied. “If you remember, I did warn you that at some point, your statement of ‘at any cost’ might be put to the test. It’s my belief that we have now reached that point.”
“As interested as I am in your plan Commander, I’m not sure I want to hear the details. Just do what you have to do, and do it quickly. The Board of Directors wants this embarrassing situation put to an end, and we’re running out of time to make that happen.”
“And if I don’t tell you what I’m doing, you’ll have plausible deniability if it goes wrong.” He said it as a statement rather than posing a question.
“Something like that,” she replied.
The Commander nodded. “Give me three solar days, ma’am. I need to make a few preparations in order to set things in motion.”
“And you can’t tell me any of the details of these preparations, because if you do I may figure out what you’re up to.” Now it was her turn to state rather than ask.
“Something like that, Ma’am,” Straker replied.
“Good hunting then, Commander.”
Taking the statement as a dismissal, Straker nodded, and with a mumbled “Ma’am,” he headed for the door.
“And Vonn?”
Straker froze in mid-stride. She’d called him Vonn. Whenever she addressed him by his first name, he knew that no good would come of it.
“Be warned. If this plan of yours doesn’t produce results, if it should turn into another ‘Beauregard Incident’, there could be a price for you to pay. And that price could be high.”
She’d said the words matter-of-factly, but the threat in them was clear enough.
“Madam President.” He gave her an exaggerated bow as he left the room.
He was running on auto-pilot as he walked back to the shuttle. He didn’t even acknowledge anyone he passed in the hall, let alone stop to speak to them. He’d come away from his meeting with quite a bit of new information to process. Aarla was expecting to take a fall, sooner rather than later. She’d made it quite clear to him that she was preparing for a soft landing, even if she had to throw him and his entire career under her to achieve it.
“These are the privileges of rank,” he muttered under his breath.
The trip back to the shuttle after the meeting took a little longer than his first trip had, as his pace wasn’t as lively as it had been then.
When he finally stepped back into the ship, the officer at the controls looked relieved. “Are you ready to depart, Sir?”
“Yes I am,” Straker replied with a deep sigh. “Get us in the air.”
The officer’s hands were a blur as he worked the controls. In no time at all, he started the engines and moved the shuttle off of the pad.
Straker sat heavily in the co-pilot’s seat. He took off his uniform cap and tossed it onto the console in front of him. Then he tapped the com. “Straker to Dominion. Captain Rievel, come in.”
The image of Dominion’s captain appeared on the screen in front of him.
“This is Rievel,” he said. “Go ahead, Fleet Commander.”
“We have a green light and we are on our way back to the ship,” Straker announced. “Repeat. Our mission is a go. Prepare for departure as soon as we dock.”
“Understood,” the captain said. “How was your meeting, Sir? If I may ask, of course.”
Straker sighed deeply. “It went about as well as I expected it would.”
“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
Straker gave a mirthless chuckle. “Please, Captain. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Rievel hesitated. “If I may be so bold, Sir. After all your service to the President, you never seem to know whether she’s going to pat your back, or stab you in it.”
“That’s true,” Straker replied. “But I always expect the worst so that I am very rarely surprised. Do you know what the biggest difference is between being patted on the back and being stabbed in it, Captain?”
Rievel shook his head. “No, Sir.”
The Commander gave him a weary look. “At this company, the hand with the knife in it moves more swiftly than the empty one.”
The captain’s face remained expressionless. “Understood, Sir. Rievel, out.”
In an instant, the screen went black.
As the shuttle finished the trip back to the cruiser, Straker quietly reflected on Aarla’s warning. He knew full well that he bore some of the blame for “the Beauregard Incident,” but all the same, the phrases “there could be a price for you to pay”, and “that price could be high”, didn’t sit well with him at all.
These are the privileges of rank, he thought to himself.
* * *
"You must not be afraid," Mara said as her green eyes stared into Ryan's brown ones. "I will not hurt you."
To her chagrin, he broke eye contact with her to look over his surroundings again. The lights in her quarters were low, but still provided enough light to illuminate the entire room. The reduced lighting also served to soften the color of the walls of the room and make it a bit less Spartan. The air was perfumed with a sweet-smelling herb, the scent of which he didn’t recognize. One word immediately came to his mind to describe the setting: peaceful. That wasn’t a state of mind he was used to.
Ryan frowned at her. "I'm not afraid. I think uncomfortable would be a better word. I don't do this sort of thing every day, you know."
"If you can relax yourself," Mara said, matter-of-factly, "you can go on for hours."
“Right.” Ryan's frown lifted into a wry grin. "There's nothing to it, eh?"
Across the table they were sitting at, Mara folded her hands in front of her. "The key to telepathy and the precise control of it is concentration. In order to build your concentration, you must have no distractions. No stresses. When you are relaxed, your concentration should be at its peak."
“In case I haven’t mentioned it yet, this is my first time,” Ryan quipped. “Be gentle with me.”
She grinned at him, but her voice was firm. “Concentrate.”
Ryan finally met her gaze. In the manner she had described to him, he tried to visualize a bridge forming between his mind and hers. He struggled to focus his mind on the task she’d given him, but it wasn’t an easy one. It came step-by-step, as on a wooden bridge. He imagined it forming, plank by plank, until finally, he felt a strong presence in his mind.
At the same time, he felt a new environment around him. It was peaceful, but at the same time, it was unsettling. He saw flashes of memories that weren’t his. But at the same time, they were quite similar to his own. The loss of family. Fighting against Security Force troopers. Being captured by black-clad men. They overwhelmed him at first. But as he adjusted to the experience and relaxed himself, his mind was able to slow the flashes down and make some sense of what he was seeing.
There was a planet he’d never seen before. It was a large, greenish world, just a bit larger than Augustine. He’d never laid eyes on it before. But for some reason he couldn’t explain, he knew exactly where he was.
Arion, he thought to himself. I’m looking at Arion.
Then, he was transported to a particular area of the planet. It seemed to be some sort of tropical area, with lush foliage of every color. There were palm-like trees, which bore a fruit that he did not recognize. He was standing in the middle of this place, surrounded by leafy vines and large flowers. The landscape was a sea of bright blues, warm yellows, stunning reds, and every other color that he ever remembered seeing, for as far as the eye – or in this case the mind's eye – could see. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anything like it.
Suddenly, it occurred to Ryan what was happening to him. Mara had met him halfway. She was opening her mind to him, but she was only showing him as much at once as she thought he could handle. As he had said, he was still relatively new at this.
He was turning in circles, taking in his new surroundings, when Mara suddenly appeared in front of him.
What is this place? He thought to her.
You are correct, she thought back to him. This is Arion, before the Company came. My family used to live in the capital city. My father used to bring me to this garden when I was a little girl. I have always loved flowers. I find that when I need to calm my mind and focus my energies, it helps me to think of this place. I thought I would share it with you.
This is beautiful. He was looking around distractedly at his surroundings. I never realized that telepathy could be so… colorful.
Think of this as a neural interface between us. She grinned slightly as she looked up at him. Perhaps when you master the technique, you can pick our surroundings. Perhaps you could show me Augustine.
I didn’t know it was possible to do this, Ryan thought to her. When two people… interface… this way, I had no idea there’d be scenery. And that the mind could generate images like this.
Yes, she replied. I chose this representation because it was relaxing. I could have given you a representation of us sitting at the table in my room. But what fun would that have been?
So there's nothing to it, he thought to her, facetiously.
You have taken the first step, she thought back to him. But even more difficult than creating a mental link is maintaining it. That takes concentration. Focus. How long can you do that?
It was at that moment that the shrill beeping of a com panel broke through the tranquility of the scene. As Ryan and Mara held each other’s gazes, the beautiful backdrop around them faded away.
Ryan’s eyes snapped open. He found himself sitting at the table in Mara’s quarters again. Mara was sitting across from him shaking her head.
He gave her a wry grin. “You did ask, you know.”
The com panel continued to beep annoyingly at them.
“I suppose that is not bad,” she said. “For a first try.”
She stood and went to the panel, which was on the far wall of her quarters. A bit reluctantly, she pressed the button and acknowledged the call.
“Yes?” She tried to keep the annoyance in her voice to a minimum.
“We need you in the control room, Mara,” Marcus said. “It’s pretty faint, but MAXX is pickin’ up a message. Somethin’ about Ryan’s sister again.”
“I am on my way,” she said.
“I’ve been trying to find Ryan,” he said, “but he’s not answerin’ me. Have you seen him?”
“I think I may know where to find him,” she replied with a slight grin. “I will tell him of the situation on my way.”
She turned away from the com panel and faced the room again. Her grin fell away, and the words that she was about to say died on her lips as she looked around her. The chair that Ryan had been sitting in at the table was empty. He’d been courteous enough to push it back under the table, but now he was nowhere to be found. She figured he must have bolted for the door at the first mention of the message. He’d been gone so long that the door was even closed behind him.
“Or not,” she said to the empty room.
CHAPTER THREE
Ryan was halfway to the control room when he heard Mara’s voice in his mind.
So much for relaxing you.
You did, he thought back to her.
For all of five seconds, came her reply.
Well, you gave it a good try. He smiled to himself. I’ll give you a few points for that.
Points, is it? Her voice sounded playful in his head at first, but it soon its tone grew more serious. Just be careful. I know that you have to look into this message, but you know how the other leads worked out when you followed them.
You mean they didn’t. He tried to keep the bitterness out of his mental voice, but he wasn’t at all sure how to do that. In fact, he’d never heard his mental voice, so he had no idea what it sounded like. Since Mara was the only person who had ever heard it, he made a mental note to ask her about it some time.
He stepped through the open door into the control room. Janice Wilkes was sitting in her usual spot behind the flight controls. Marcus Briggs and Adam Traynor were sitting at consoles, but they weren’t paying nearly as much attention to them as they were the main viewer. When he turned and saw what they were watching, he rolled his eyes and shook his head.
The image of a female newsreader sitting behind a glass-paneled desk filled the screen. The picture zoomed in from a wide shot to a close-up of her delicate face. She was a brunette, with hair that was as dark as the image of space that usually occupied the main viewer. Her eyes were an icy blue, and her skin was as pale as the finest porcelain. The shade of red her lips were painted with made it seem even more so. Her smoky voice spoke the report from behind a smile that was almost as disingenuous as the words coming out of it.
“An emergency meeting of the IHC Board of Directors was held earlier today, and Three Systems News has learned that the major issue discussed was the outlaw Jace Ryan. If you remember, he and his crew crashed a prison transport on the planet Beauregard six months ago and staged a reckless escape that killed two Security Force troopers and injured six others. The Security Force has been pursuing Ryan ever since, nearly capturing him on several occasions.”
Marcus shook his head. “Nearly captured, my ass.”
“Ryan and his men are also believed to be responsible for the destruction of the mining colony on the asteroid XK-7,” the newsreader said, “which cost the lives of fifty-seven miners and Security Agents, and also the recent attack on the penal colony on the moon Diablo, during which over one hundred inmates and guard staff were killed.”
“So there’s just men on this boat, huh?” Janice asked wryly.
Marcus scoffed. “What a bunch of bullshit! We didn’t kill nobody on XK-7! That rock was a damned ghost town when we got there.”
“In light of recent events,” the newscaster continued, “the Board of Directors has raised the reward for the capture of Jace Ryan to one million credits. There is an additional reward of one million credits for the capture of each of his associates.”
Traynor gave a low whistle at the statement.
“The Security Force has issued a request for anyone with information that could lead to their capture to contact their nearest Security Office, or their local law enforcement. And now, in entertainment news…”
“MAXX,” Ryan interjected, “viewer off.”
MAXX-I, the ship’s computer, activated at Ryan’s voice command.
“Viewer off,” it repeated in its monotone voice.
The screen faded to black, cutting the newsreader off in mid-sentence.
“A million credits for each of us.” There was a note of amazement in Traynor’s voice. “Nice.”
“Yeah. That’s really interesting.” Ryan glared at him and Marcus disapprovingly. “But how many times have I told you guys that if you want to watch this crap to pipe it to your own room?”
Traynor slowly shook his head. “You know, it’s no wonder the bounty on you is a million,” he said facetiously. “You’re just plain mean.”
“Did you hear that crap she was sayin’ about us?” Marcus asked indignantly. “There wasn’t a word of truth in it.”
“Well there were a few words of truth,” Traynor interjected. “She got Ryan’s name right. But you have to admit, though, she’s hot.”
Marcus half-nodded. “She’s okay.”
“That’s the kind of woman you like?” Janice asked.
Traynor’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? She’s gorgeous!”
Janice scoffed. “I would’ve thought you’d like your women a little less fragile, and a little more three-dimensional.”
“Why, honey?” Traynor mimed slicking back his sandy brown hair as he grinned lasciviously at her. “Are you makin’ an offer?”
“Only in your dreams,” she replied.
Traynor chuckled.
“Although one other man called me ‘honey’ once.”
Traynor looked at her questioningly. “Just one?”
“Yep,” she replied with a sweet smile. “A few years ago.”
Then the smile fell away hard.
“They still haven’t found him yet.”
Traynor visibly flinched from the glare that replaced the sweetness.
Ryan closed his eyes and slowly shook his head before he turned his attention to Janice. “Okay. I know you guys did not call me up here just to watch the news. What’s going on?”
“There’s a man on the com who says he knows you,” she replied. “He says that he knows something about Jade.”
“Another one?” Ryan asked with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s talk to him.”
Janice hit a control on the panel in front of her, and another face popped up on the main viewer. This face was much less pleasant to look at than the newscaster, though. It was a man’s face, and this man looked like he’d lived a rough life. He had a stringy beard, and bloodshot eyes that seemed to have been superimposed onto his leathery skin.
“Mr. Ryan,” he said gruffly. “You look well.”
Ryan squinted at the image on the screen. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
The old man shrugged. “I doubt it. But I know you. I’ve seen footage of you on the news uplink. You’re getting to be quite famous. Or infamous, depending on how you look at it.”
“Really?” Ryan deadpanned. “That’s terrific. So are you calling me about the fan club, or was there something else you wanted?”
The old man leaned towards his own com panel, and his face occupied the entire screen. At the same time, he could see out of the corner of his eye that Janice and Traynor were both leaning back away from the screen. They both had similar expressions of surprise and disappointment when their seat backs stopped them from getting further away.
“Are you still looking for Jade?” the old man asked.
“Why do you ask?” Ryan cast a skeptical eye over the panel. “And just who in the hell are you, anyway?”
“My name is LeBarge,” the old man answered. “I’m a businessman. I deal in information, and I have some information that you may find interesting. Do you have anything that might interest me?”
Ryan crossed his arms. “I might. It all depends on what information you have for me.”
“Fine.” The old man nodded. “Then I think we can negotiate some more.”
His fingers clacked away at a keyboard in front of him. “In two hours, I’ll meet you at these coordinates on Pelera. It’s one of the moons of Heydrion.”
Ryan eyed the co-ordinates as they were displayed on the console in front of him. “Right. I’ve heard of Palera. It’s not that far from where we are right now.”
“If that’s the case, then I’ll see you there in two hours.” LeBarge gave him a gap-toothed smile as his image on the viewer faded to black.
“You really gonna go and meet this dude?” Marcus asked incredulously. “You can’t possibly tell me you trust this guy.”
Ryan scoffed. “Trust him? I don’t even know him. That’s why I’m not going down there alone.”
He turned to Janice. “Just get us there. I’ll go prep the shuttle.”
She nodded and turned back to the controls. As she was punching in the co-ordinates, Ryan turned and headed for the door. Mara’s warning still echoed in his mind.
You know how the other leads worked out when you followed them.
* * *
Commander Straker sat on the bridge of the Dominion drumming his fingers on the arm of his command chair. He hated waiting, but at the same time he knew he’d have to be patient and watch his plan unfold. He wasn’t used to dealing with challenges that he couldn’t settle with firepower alone. But Ryan was proving to be much better than that. Or was he much luckier? Straker decided that it didn’t really matter which it was. In either case, capturing Ryan was a challenge for him. It was going to come down to strategy, and he was confident that he had the right strategy this time to overcome it, just as he’d overcome all the others.
The key, he thought to himself, is patience.
He blamed Aarla for the chase going on this long, of course. After all, it was her idea to have the shuttle crash land on Beauregard in the first place. She’d said that if she let Ryan run, and it was convincing enough, he would go to ground and contact what was left of the Augustine Resistance. Aside from the people of Arion, Augustine’s resistance had put up the toughest fight against the Company’s campaign to retake the rogue worlds of Three Systems.
Over half a century ago, the Company had funded the terraforming of this area of space, which had become known as the Three Systems. The Company claimed the ownership rights of all the worlds its process had created. But a few worlds didn’t recognize the jurisdiction. So the Company sent troops to the rogue worlds to enforce its claim. Augustine had been one of those worlds, and once the Augustine resistance was shattered, Aarla’s plan was to leave them nothing – and no one – to rebuild with.
But the plan hadn’t gone to her design. Ryan and his cellmates did get away. The only problem was that Straker and his men hadn’t been able to pin them down since. They’d come close to capturing them a few times, but for every trap that was laid for him, Ryan always seemed to find the back door and escape. And as far as anyone could tell, he hadn’t breathed a word to the Augustine refugees since he’d gotten away. In short, Aarla’s grand plan had been for nothing.
He was deep into his reflections on the situation when he was startled by a lieutenant calling his name.
“What is it, lieutenant?”
“There’s a priority one transmission coming in from Olympia, Sir.” The lieutenant was stiff and formal, as any good Company man would be. “It’s the President.”
Straker straightened in his seat. “Put it through.”
The lieutenant tapped a control on his console, and Aarla’s image appeared on Dominion’s main screen.
“Commander,” she said officiously. “What’s your status?”
“All systems are functioning normally, Madam,” he replied. “All hands are accounted for.”
“It’s been three solar days.” She projected an outward calm, but he thought he could detect a note of impatience in her voice. “Do you have a report for me?”
“There’s nothing to report at this time, Madam President. I’m awaiting contact from…”
His voice trailed off as he considered what to say next. He could spill his whole plan to her right this minute. Take away her deniability and make her an accomplice. But as he thought it over, he realized that it wasn’t a very good idea. If she knew what he was doing, she’d be obligated to stop him before his plan was completed. She wasn’t only protecting herself, but in a way, she was protecting him as well. Besides, if it came right down to it, he knew it would be his word against hers.
“… I’m awaiting a contact,” he said finally.
“Understood,” she replied. “I expect regular status reports from you until this matter is resolved. Out.”
He stared at her image as it faded to black on the screen.
“Patience, Madam,” he said to the blank screen. “The key to the plan is patience.”
* * *
“We’re in orbit,” Janice announced.
“Right,” said Ryan as he started towards the door. “I’ll prep the shuttle. How’d you like to take a shuttle ride, Marcus?”
Marcus groaned. “I’ve been on the last six of these runs with you. I’m gonna sit this one out.”
“I’m going with you.” Janice’s tone was forceful enough that Ryan stopped in the doorway and stared at her. The others stopped what they were doing as well.
She looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her in surprise.
“What?” she asked nonchalantly. “I’ve been behind this console watching planets on the viewer while you guys have been off on field trips for the last twenty-two days. If I don’t get off this ship soon, I’m going to lose it up here. And it is not going to be pretty.”
“Okay, okay.” Ryan eyed her warily. “You can come with me. MAXX can hold the orbit while we’re gone.”
“Marcus can do it,” she replied. “I’ve been teaching him how to fly the ship lately, and he’s really getting the hang of it.”
“Really?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Marcus is learning to fly the ship, is he?”
He looked over at Marcus, who was staring daggers at him. The sight of the big man’s annoyance confirmed his suspicion that he was interested in a bit more than learning to fly the ship. Ryan grinned in spite of himself.
“Yeah,” Janice replied, seemingly unaware of the exchange. “He seemed interested. He’s been coming up here a lot, and asking all kinds of questions. So I started teaching him to fly the ship.”
“So you’re interested?” Ryan shifted his eyes towards Janice, then back towards Marcus. “In piloting?”
“Yeah, I’m interested.” Marcus glanced at Janice, then turned a glare on Ryan. “In piloting. You got a problem with that?”
Ryan stole another quick glance at Janice. She was giving both of them curious looks. His grin widened. He couldn’t help but find the whole situation amusing. It wasn’t the fact that his burly shipmate had a crush on a pretty lady, but the fact that he was being so bashful about it. Ryan had seen him fearlessly take on multiple opponents and stare down more than his share of gun barrels without blinking on more occasions than he could count. The fact that he was being so timid about this confirmed something else that Ryan knew all too well. That as much as he fought to show them all otherwise, Marcus Briggs was just as human as the rest of them.
“No,” he said finally. “No problem at all. In fact, I think it’s a good idea that we all learn as many different skills as we can on the ship. The more things each of us can do, the better it is for the group. So good luck. With the piloting.”
He stole another quick glance at Janice before he met Marcus’s gaze again. Marcus grumbled and went back to staring at his monitor.
Ryan suppressed a chuckle as he turned his attention back to Janice. “C’mon. Let’s go see the world. We can let Marcus here practice his piloting.”
He grinningly glanced over at Marcus, who glared back at him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dagmar Prison was one of the darkest places Tavion Karr had ever been to. It was also one of the quietest. There were no fights among the prisoners, no sounds of guards fighting with inmates who were resisting, and no cries of anyone protesting their innocence. And oh, was it dark. So dark, in fact, that he could barely see the inside of his cell, tiny though it was.
His bed folded down from a cupboard in the wall, and in the corner across from the bed was a basic commode. That was the comfort level of the accommodations he was granted during his incarceration. He didn’t expect much better, though, since he was a prisoner, after all. And he figured that they meant to drug him into oblivion at their next available opportunity anyway. After all, they’d done it to nearly every other person he’d seen come through this place.
The guards would usually come for a prisoner while they were sound asleep in the middle of the night. They would just grab him or her right out of their cell. Then they would drag them off to the room at the end of the corridor. Each time they opened the door, a brilliant white light spilled out of the room that lit up the entire cellblock. If the prisoner hadn’t woken up already, that light was enough to do the trick. No one knew for sure what went on in that room, but everyone knew that once you went in, you were never the same when you came out. When they saw that blinding light, they all struggled for all they were worth. The noise from those struggles was all that broke the eerie silence that pervaded the most feared prison complex in all of the Three Systems.
So here it was that Tavion Karr spent his days, lying on the cot in his cell staring up at the ceiling and waiting for the night that the guards would come to take him to that damned room.
He heard footsteps coming down the corridor, and his heart sank.
Here it comes, he thought. It must be my turn today.
The footsteps stopped at the iron bars of his cell. Next he expected to hear a key in the lock, but instead he heard a deep masculine voice.
“Tavion Karr,” the voice said. “I’ve searched three levels to find you.
The voice sounded familiar, so Karr sat up and looked towards its source.
It was hard to make out the face of the man who now stood on the other side of the bars. It was dark inside the cell, and what little light there was in the hallway was shining behind him, obscuring his face. But when he spoke, Karr had no trouble recognizing the voice’s owner.
“You’re looking well,” Fleet Commander Straker said.
Karr climbed off of the cot and walked over to the bars. The bruises on his face and arms were a testimony to how the Company had treated the latest “guest” of Dagmar Prison.
Straker frowned. “Under the circumstances, that is.”
“Commander Straker.” Karr scoffed at the sight of him. “If you’re the conjugal visit I asked for, I’m going to be really disappointed.”
“Not exactly.” The commander ignored Karr’s sarcasm. “But I’ve come with an opportunity for you.”
“I see.” Karr gave him a mirthless chuckle. “You mean the opportunity to try a Samathine cocktail, I assume?”
“I’ve come to offer you a way out of here,” Straker said. “And to sweeten the deal, I’m also offering you a way to even the score with the man who put you here.”
Karr’s voice was dripping with sarcasm now. “If memory serves, you are the man who put me here, Commander.”
“I’m here to offer you a deal,” Straker said impatiently. “But if you’re not interested…”
“I haven’t heard any deal yet,” Karr retorted. “As for my interest, if you want that, you’ll have to come to the point.”