by Petra Landon
“It is time you left this station” he said calmly to her.
There was a muffled exclamation from behind him, followed by the sound of running feet. Zh’hir sighed, turning his attention to the group of six males who came through the crowd to stand over the fallen slaver guards. Five were attired in the TSF uniform while the sixth was a slaver guard who stared at him in incredulous recognition. It was the guard he had bribed to check out the slaver hold behind the curtained doorway off the auction platform.
“I remember you” the guard announced. “You asked for a preview of the goods before the auction.”
One of the guards on the floor raised his head with difficulty. “The redhaired female with him is the escaped prisoner. I recognize her from when I placed her in the cage” he wheezed out.
Zoran emerged from the crowd to direct a fleeting glance, brimful of warning, at the Ur’quay Captain.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded in an authoritative voice, coming to a stop beside Zh’hir.
Two of the station personnel and the slaver guard made their way to the two Captains who faced them with Sila and Jolar behind them.
“Captain” the TSF officer greeted Zoran respectfully.
The greeting was returned politely by the mercenary.
“The slavers allege that this male helped one of their prisoners escape” the officer explained while the crowd strained to hear the conversation.
“I can vouch for him” Zoran said. “He’s part of my crew.”
The officer looked astonished. “You allow non-Hadari’Kor in your army?”
His shock was understandable. Zoran and his mercenary army were well-known on Keeyor 9 by reputation. It was common knowledge that the only non-Hadari’Kor on the Juntafeyore were the chef and the medic, professions the Hadari’Kor did not traditionally excel at. The massive alien did not look like he would be good at anything but flattening everything in his path that gave him the merest hint of trouble.
Zoran looked amused by the question. “Look around you, Officer. It should be clear why he’s in my army. My merc just demonstrated his skills on seven slaver guards before an eager crowd.”
The slaver guard with the officer sputtered angrily at Zoran’s words.
“The female is ours. We demand her back” he bit out furiously.
Zoran ignored the slaver guard, waiting courteously for the TSF officer to respond.
“Is she with you, Captain?” the officer inquired when it was clear that Zoran was not planning to respond to the slaver guard.
“She’s his female and accompanies him on my ship” the Hadari’Kor Captain responded succinctly. They had decided that this explanation would be the most believable for Zoran’s ship was known to carry no female mercenaries.
“No, that cannot be true. She’s one of ours” protested the slaver guard.
The TSF officer glanced apologetically at Zoran. “I’m sorry, Captain. We have to investigate since an allegation has been made.”
“Of course” Zoran agreed smoothly. “You must do your job. We have no objection to you verifying her tags.”
The slaver guard took a triumphant step towards Sila and the Star Captain raised a large hand in the universal signal to stop.
“No” he declared in Alliance Standard. “No slavers will touch my female.”
The slaver guard opened his mouth to protest, only to be pre-empted by Zoran.
“Officer, we have no problem if the TSF scans her but we do not allow slavers near our females. I’m sure you can understand” he said politely but with a steely undertone that made it clear that he would not budge on this.
It was as if his words were a signal. Hadari’Kor mercenaries streamed out from the crowd to congregate behind Sila and Jolar. The TSF officer glanced uncertainly at the knot of mercenaries to shoot a wary look at their Captain.
Zoran stepped back with a sweeping gesture that directed the officer to Sila and Jolar.
“Please, Officer, we take no issue with proper station procedure.”
The officer gestured at his TSF colleague to keep the slaver guard back. He did not intend to allow the situation to escalate into a confrontation with the Hadari’Kor, especially on the public thoroughfare. As his colleague verbally restrained the slaver guard, the officer stepped between Zoran and the Star Captain to approach Sila. Unhooking a small tablet from his belt, he punched in a few keys to scan Sila quickly and efficiently.
“Please state your identity, Miss” he requested politely.
“Sila Gatherer, twenty four summers, from Terra Agri 5.” Sila’s response was halting, the quiver in her voice very convincing.
It was no act, for Sila was genuinely terrified. She had taken note of the plasma weapons on the TSF personnel. Neither the Hadari’Kor nor the Star Captain was armed and Sila had broken out in cold sweat at the thought that the slavers might sway the TSF.
“Her tags seem to be in order” the TSF officer noted, glancing up from his tablet.
“There’s some trickery here. This is our prisoner” the slaver guard protested loudly. “She has a suppressor to override our tags.”
The officer shook his head. “There is no suppressor device on her. The hand scanner is powerful enough to detect it.”
“Are these the new rules for Keeyor 9, Officer?” inquired Jolar in a voice audible to the watching crowd. “Have slavers been given the authority to forcibly take anyone they want on this station by claiming them as escaped prisoners.”
A murmur swept through the crowd at his words. People whispered and shook their heads. What was to prevent the slavers from hauling anyone off to their auction block, they asked one another. If the station personnel allowed the slavers to claim someone as an escaped prisoner without any proof, then Keeyor 9 would no longer be safe for anyone, for the slavers commanded a small army of guards to enforce their writ.
“You found no slaver tags on her and yet, this one dares to claim her. What proof do the slavers have that one of theirs escaped? Are we to take them at their word?” Jolar inquired sarcastically.
The crowd grew increasingly restless, their murmurs growing louder at the mercenary’s words. Sensing the increasingly ugly mood of the crowd, the contingent of TSF personnel moved to flank the officer.
“Any confusion can be cleared up, Officer. There’s an easy way to prove who she is” Zoran suggested to the beleaguered TSF leader. “The station logs every entrance and exit, right?”
“Yes” the officer confirmed affirmatively.
“Check your logs, Officer. She arrived on this station three days ago. The entry logs for the day should include her ID.”
The officer clutched gratefully at the proffered olive branch. He had never been in favor of tangling with HadKor — they were ruthless, territorial and aggressive mercenaries who made for bad enemies. He was also beginning to lose the crowd, not that he blamed them. If the slavers wanted the TSF to take their word without any proof, it would set a bad precedent on this station. The Trade Sphere would lose patrons in droves, leading to financial losses that even revenue from the slavers would not compensate for. The Captain’s suggestion was a good one. If the sensor logs proved that the female had walked onto the station, the TSF would have a legitimate reason to tell the slavers to back down and allow the female to leave Keeyor 9 without further ado.
If the TSF officer had happened to glance at the female in question, he would have been very surprised for Sila’s face was the very picture of panic. She knew that her old ID chip with the slaver tags had been removed and a new one implanted in her. But the station’s sensor logs would have no record of her new ID chip since the slavers had brought her on Keeyor 9 with the old tags.
Sensing her alarm, Jolar sent her a pregnant glance, trying to reassure her that it was all taken care of. “The TSF will have this sorted out soon, Sila” he assured her.
A Hadari’Kor merc had transported Sila’s ID chip onto the station while using a suppressor device to hide his own, thus
forcing the entry sensors to log Sila’s tags instead of his. They had anticipated questions being raised about Sila and had gambled that no one would bother to match the tags for all the Hadari’Kor mercenaries making their way on and off the station for the past three days.
Jolar’s reassuring words helped to alleviate Sila’s fright but she remained anxious as the TSF officer focused on his tablet. It was a fleeting glance at the Star Captain that seemed to calm her. He was watching her, the unblinking gold eyes on her. Sila straightened to face the TSF personnel with more confidence.
The officer glanced up from his tablet to address Zoran.
“Looks good, Captain. Her entry was recorded by the station’s sensors. Thank you for your co-operation.”
Zoran acknowledged the officer graciously.
“No” retorted the slaver guard. “I tell you, he bribed me to see our prisoners and this female is the one he stole from us.”
“She’s free to go” the TSF officer said firmly, signaling his personnel to make way for the Hadari’Kor. “Her tags are legitimate.”
One of the TSF contingent grasped the slaver guard to move him physically away from the Hadari’Kor. The guard could be heard arguing loudly as he was escorted away, his protests fading as he moved further away from them.
The TSF officer directed his contingent to the fallen slaver guards. Some of the guards had managed to sit up and were busy directing vicious looks at a disinterested Zh’hir.
Zoran signaled his mercs. “Let’s go.”
Without further ado, they proceeded down the walkway in double file under the watchful eyes of the crowd. Zoran led the group with the Star Captain, followed by Sila and Jolar, with the rest of the Hadari’Kor behind them. More Hadari’Kor joined their procession as they made their way to a large elevator that would take them up to the docking ports.
Squeezed in at the very end between Jolar and the Star Captain, Sila heard one of the Hadari’Kor call out as the elevator door shut to enclose them.
“Star Captain” the mercenary remarked with cheerful appreciation. “That was spectacular.”
The elevator reverberated with cheerful catcalls and whistles as the Hadari’Kor showed their appreciation for a fellow warrior.
The Star Captain’s lips quirked as Zoran reiterated the sentiment. “That was quite a show, my friend.”
“Fun, wasn’t it?” Jolar winked at Sila whose only response was to collapse against the wall of the elevator in sheer relief.
SEVEN
Sila gazed around her curiously. When Commander Jolar had offered her a tour of the ship this morning, Sila had accepted with alacrity. The Hadari’Kor ship was worlds apart from the Henia. She had seen little of the Ur’quay starship to make a comparison, Sila reminded herself. Barring a brief tour, most of her time had been spent in the First Commander’s rest-chamber. Yet, the differences were glaring even at first glance. Both built for war but where the Ur’quay were Spartan and minimalistic, the Juntafeyore had the feel of understated luxury.
It had been eight hours since their eventful exit from Keeyor 9. Escorted to a small but comfortable chamber aboard the Juntafeyore, Sila had been pleased to find the case with her new attire from the Trade Sphere awaiting her. Left alone to rest and recuperate, Sila had been grateful for the solitude. On Terra Agri, she lived a solitary life in the cozy house at the edge of the fields she tended. Her capture by the slavers had cost Sila everything — her freedom, her old life and the loss of her world and friends. But despite the heavy price, what had chaffed at her the most in the immediate aftermath was something less tangible — a lack of solitude. Even her time on the Trade Sphere had been spent cossetted in the tiny chamber, guarded around the clock by Hadari’Kor.
She had missed being alone as much as she missed the warmth of the sun. Open skies, vast spaces and the sun on her skin were part of a gatherer’s life. They tended the land and bonded with it, to live and die on it. That is how Sila’s ancestors had thrived for generations. And despite her increasing restlessness and the vague sense of dissatisfaction on Terra Agri, these she had always taken for granted. Until the slavers and the prospect of exile from her home. In the privacy of her chamber aboard the Hadari’Kor ship, Sila had faced the epiphany — her life as a gatherer on Terra Agri 5 was lost to her. And along with it, everything familiar. She would have to forge a new future for herself.
The hours alone had refreshed her, allowing Sila to come to terms with the upheaval and an uncertain future. She had been adrift — uncertain, anxious and fearful — since the fateful day the Keeyori had announced their presence on her world. Now, she accepted that Terra Agri would no longer welcome her. Grateful to be free of the slavers, the near escape from a calamitous fate made it easier to come to terms with what couldn’t be. In the solitude of her room, Sila had even admitted to herself that barring a few acquaintances and the reassurance of the only life she had ever known, there wasn’t much she would miss from Terra Agri. On Keeyor 9, in hiding from the slavers hunting her, the prospect of being a space-dweller with no world to call home had terrified her. But now, she was ready to start a new life somewhere else, where no one knew her or her abilities.
Calmer and more at peace with her circumstances, Sila hoped that this new future would involve a little adventure. Not the kidnapped-by-slavers kind, she reminded the Goddess hastily. That she could do without, but something different from the humdrum life and increasingly dissatisfied existence she had been living on her rural planet.
Commander Jolar, always an entertaining companion, showed Sila around the common areas of the sparkling warship – vast spaces for recreation, training and dining. The dining chambers, equipped with built-in Food Synthesizers for when real food was scarce onboard, were especially interesting. To Sila, from an agrarian planet and a gatherer by trade, Food Synthesizers were a fascinating novelty. The Commander graciously invited Sila to avail of all the facilities on the ship, before escorting her to a largish chamber. To her surprise, the Star Captain awaited her there, lounging by the wall before a table and seats scattered around it. Commander Jolar made a discreet exit and the Ur’quay Captain invited her to seat herself even as he remained upright. Sila had observed that barring slumber, the Star Captain preferred to be on his feet.
“You are well?” he inquired, the inscrutable gold eyes on her.
“I am.” Sila seated herself. “Thank you for Keeyor 9, Star Captain. You, and the Hadari’Kor.”
“You are welcome.” There was a watchful look in the gold eyes.
Something simmered in the air between them, an unspoken and charged question, but she ignored it, determined to stifle any hint of awkwardness between them.
Sila waited patiently, as the unblinking eyes studied her.
“I would like to offer you an apology, Sseela” he stated.
His words seemed to rattle her.
“Apology” she stammered, as a memory of glinting gold eyes and an abrasive tongue on the sensitive skin of her wrist had her glancing away.
For … that?
The gold eyes seemed to still on her and Sila tamped down her thoughts in sudden dismay. Ur’quay law prevented him from reading her and she knew that he would never deliberately breach her privacy. But she’d had a few months to reflect on her time aboard the Henia. It had eventually struck Sila that aboard the Ur’quay starship, the only one to sense her fearful ramblings in the holding cell had been the Star Captain. In a ship full of Ur’quay with the ability to read her stray thoughts, he had been the only one to hear her.
“The Ur’quay are responsible for your exile from your world” he said. “I apologize to you for this.”
Sila stared at him in astonishment. Never in her wildest dreams had she held the Star Captain or the Ur’quay liable for the arrival of slavers to Terra Agri. A combination of circumstances and her misjudgment of others’ interest in her rustic world, yes. But never the Ur’quay!
She shook her head. “No, you have nothing to apologize for, S
tar Captain. The Ur’quay are not responsible.”
The Star Captain said nothing.
“I was forced to reveal my secret” she admitted. “And that has made my planet no longer home for me. But it was my choice to help them — I was fully aware of the risks. I blame no one for my fate today.”
As he remained silent, she took a deep breath, determined to clear the air. “I do, however, have one person to thank for saving me from the consequences. It was not the Terrans who came after me but I excuse them because of their inability to do so. I cannot say the same for the Alliance who decreed that we were members and yet, left us vulnerable to slavers. The only one to come after me was you, Star Captain. You and the Hadari’Kor, who I think came as a favor to you. So, let us have no apologies between us” she concluded.
The Alliance had not even bothered to retrieve her, Sila mused. If an Alliance ship had stormed Keeyor 9 to demand the return of a kidnapped citizen, the slavers would have given her up without a fight. The might of the Armada was feared in the sector and no Trade Sphere would get in the middle of such a wrangle. Instead, the Star Captain and his Hadari’Kor cohorts had been forced to mount a daring and clandestine assault on the station to free her.
Green eyes full of conviction and defiance tangled with the gold ones. The Star Captain was the first one to back down this time and he did so with a small smile. The one she remembered from her time with him where the gold eyes glinted subtly while a little quirk played about his lips.
“Let us agree to disagree, Sseela” he acceded softly. “Just on this, I hope.”
Sila hoped that he believed her for she was utterly convinced about this.
“I will not miss Terra Agri” she assured him earnestly. “The Goddess knows how I’ve hankered to travel the sector.”