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Merker's Outpost

Page 34

by I. Christie


  "They haven't removed Guardian's suits," Maud mentioned as Lt. Montran slumped forward unconscious after a nerve gun was laid against her spine.

  Zohra removed herself from the emotions she was feeling, something she was accustomed to do in her nine years of facing death on a battlefield and sometimes torture of prisoners for information. She analyzed the situation and made plans, the only thing she could do at this time.

  "They're in a hurry to extract information and hand her over to Alan's group. I'm wondering if they are worried Alan will head this way. Guardian, do you have his location?"

  "He's a week away, by the strength of his communication, but the captain of Chaney's guards does not know that."

  "Yeah. The first thing they teach you in interrogation 101 is blindfold your victim. They are in too much of a hurry. I don't think that is much of a consolation for Lady Montran, though. They'll make the exchange in neutral territory…probably topside. Chaney's guards are not going to trust anything or anyone representing kid Fermin. Wherever it's made, you take Carol, and I'll take Montran. It's time to give these suits a good testing out," Zohra muttered.

  "What do you think I've been doing for the two years your buddies have been messing with Guardian?" Maud returned.

  "Oh, yeah. Forgot that part," she glanced over at Maud and was distracted at the likeness of Lady Montran.

  "The exchange has been agreed upon," the Guardian broke in. "I'm sending you the coordinates."

  "Got it, Guardian," Maud answered, "Come on. We have thirty stan minutes to reach the exchange point. It's near one of the emergency exits so we can get there early without detection."

  "We need to pick up a universal neurokey. I have one in my kit. I can pack my stuff. I can't keep coming back here to pick up stuff we can use."

  "Alright then, Maud can pack Carol's belongings. Lt. Montran had made the offer to her," Guardian suggested.

  "Alright. But we must hurry."

  "Just pack the bags and the bots will move them to the car," Guardian informed them.

  ***

  *

  The two small suns were high when Maud and Zohra could see them moving from their small screens on their visors to the outside of the city. The agreement was both sides come without weapons and they were to appear away from city's entrance. That meant both used a shuttle to drop off their hostages and five men from both sides. When the shuttles disappeared, the men advanced within a speaking distance of each other.

  ***

  **

  Harriet woke to a fiery pain. Her whole body hurt, then a slap that caused her head to bounce off something behind her, gave her something else to feel. She now noticed one side of her face was swollen because she could not see out of one eye. For a moment, she was confused wondering if she was still a prisoner of war, and then remembered it was another nightmare, memories of her past stalking her. Her head was jerked back and she stared into the eyes of a dark Harnivan. No, this was not something from her past. She had never met a Harnivan but she had heard about their interrogation techniques.

  Her mind was curious why he did not use his other limbs to pound on her, and then she remembered he had been pounding on her. Then the rush from the pain of her broken hands brought her painfully into the present. And for a long time they hurt more than other parts of her body that had been abused.

  They had been questioning her on what she knew of Lord Chaney and what her business with the metradame was. She focused on thanking her mentor, Commander Neilson of the Centurian Corps, for encouraging his staff to take interrogation classes with the ve'tumac, Hum, whether they were going to be part of the special troop that did the interrogations or not. Hum also taught the other side of the coin, how to survive an interrogation.

  "Why were you chasing the metradame?" the voice demanded again. He waited a little longer this time and then the nerve sting was applied. He had moved from breaking bones to using the nerve pain.

  Her scream froze in her throat. Suddenly, everything stopped and she dropped back into a dark self-imposed unconsciousness, another skill learned in Hum's class.

  ***

  **

  A dull thudding against the base of Montran's skull traveled to behind her eye sockets, adding another spasm to her sick stomach. Male voices from nearby were a drone, but she focused in not retching from an empty stomach, only making her head pound more. With great difficulty, she forced herself to inventory her condition. She opened her eyes and could see; she pursed her lips and could feel they were no longer swollen; she cleared her throat and that…was not dry. They put the medibot to good use, but only to take care of surface injuries, leaving her ribs and legs bruised and sore. Why? Maybe they were in a hurry, a small voice from far away suggested.

  The voices became more distinguishable. She tried to stand, to stop the painful drag on her shoulders, which her dead weight was causing. Her handlers shook her, sending painful jabs of light to her head. Her head fell back and she nearly went back into the safer darkness.

  They were surface side, she thought, trying to direct her attention to her surroundings.

  "We trade evenly, or there is no trade," the familiar deep voice of her inquisitor stated firmly from somewhere near her.

  "You will give us the Montran woman and you will disembark from this planet with your lives," the other voice stated stiffly.

  Lt. Montran realized her hands were bound behind her, while her legs were shackled, making it difficult to make a run for it. But then, in this atmosphere, running was not possible.

  Time. How much time has passed? Where is the clever Captain Zohra? Hope she has a plan. We're topside and I don't feel the pressure like I had when I first arrived. Must be Guardian's suits. Is that Carol?

  Carol was standing with a neurorestraint around her neck behind Alan's soldiers. Behind her visor her face bruised and bleeding, her eyes had a vacant stare. She was wearing Guardian's outer suit too. She stood between her two burly guards motionless. Montran's heart beat irregularly and then went back to a steady beat as she tried to figure out how to get out of this, and to figure out what 'this' was about.

  "Alan will be very upset if you don't bring her back…usable. Now, what I'm going to do here, is shoot one part of her body off at a time. Human females only have five limbs, so we shouldn't be here for too long. Let's start with the head first…"

  Lt. Montran could not feel the weapon press against her forehead, but she heard the thunk of the weapon against her visor.

  He's in a rush or he just doesn't want to turn me over to Alan. I don't know whether to thank him or be ticked off…oh, shit! Guardian said the suits are impervious to some weapons fire. Does the humvaian know? No, or he would have taken the suit for himself. It would be a hot commodity. I hope if I need it to blend in…it will work. If they drop me…maybe I can disappear and slide over to Carol. No. They would kill her with the neurohold.

  "Lt. Montran," Guardian's voice whispered to her. "You will be rescued. Be prepared to follow the captain's orders. Your suit is back to one hundred percent."

  Carol was pushed forward to the leader of Alan's group who pulled her roughly to stand in front of him.

  Helgas Moon but this does not look right, Harriet cursed to herself wishing her head would stop pounding so she could figure out what was wrong.

  "Remove the neurohold," the negotiator holding her ordered.

  The mechanism was tossed his way and whether by intention or not, it hit him on the shoulder. Free fall or any movement was not easy in the dense atmosphere.

  Oh, oh. Trouble, Lt. Montran's suspicious mind sensed.

  Alan's soldiers rushed Chaney's soldiers as best as one could in the heavy gravity, the neurolock dropped into the dirt. Neither side had weapons, which may have been part of the agreement for the meet. Her handler pushed her back, where she fell with a heavy thud, this time on her side. Carol was grabbed by one of Alan's soldiers and pushed behind him, where she fell back and laid motionless in the dirt.

&
nbsp; Lt. Montran inched her way toward the mechanism that was kicked by moving feet deeper into the shinny dirt particles. It occurred to her that neither group was calling for more reinforcements. It was also odd that in the melee, she was not stepped on.

  A ploy? What do they hope to gain? Ahhh, to see who comes to rescue us. So now what?

  Lt. Montran rolled to the edge of the fighting and paused to see where their escape avenues were. Flat land everywhere. She could not see any sign of an elevator plate. Nor could she see her rescuers, but then they did have suits that could hide them.

  Suddenly she felt a pat on her leg. It was a pat in a recognizable pattern. Captain Zohra would tell her when to activate the suit to vanish. She obviously was not trusting her communication. Lt. Montran wanted to laugh, but her side hurt too much. Here she was distrustful of the blend mechanism and the captain did not trust the communication.

  Suddenly one of Lord Chaney's soldiers dropped heavily to his knees near Lt. Montran pointing his weapon in her face.

  "Now, would be a good time," Montran muttered under her breath as pain from her bruised rib had her trying to draw herself into a small ball. Montran tried to see where to roll.

  "Now!" Maud's voice came over her com.

  "Blend on!" Montran commanded, and would have started to roll away from the fracas if a pull on her bound arms had not pulled her in another direction. A moment later, the leg restraints and then her arms loosened from the binds. She glanced in the direction of the continued pull and from one small window in her visor could see Zohra leading her in a crawl in a zig zag pattern over the dark red spaces. She glanced back and could see the man that had a weapon pointed at her was fighting with one of Alan's soldiers.

  "Carefully, no dust," Zohra directed as they both moved easier than her capturers. She could see Maud and Carol heading in the same direction. She was relieved to see that the neurorestraint was no longer on Carol.

  "As long as the majority of your body is in contact with a surface, you're hidden," Zohra reassured her in a whisper as they continued to move away from the men that were now looking frantically for Carol and her.

  "What about tracks?" Harriet wheezed.

  "We got that covered. Just keep moving. We're almost there," Zohra encouraged.

  They finally came to a halt. Montran was panting from the exertion of moving body parts that did not feel completely healed from her beatings. She rested in the dirt, oblivious to what went on around her, but taking comfort in the presence of Zohra leaning against her.

  "Maud, clear. Ignite," Zohra ordered.

  "Three…two…one…." Maud's voice counted.

  A blunted sound, quickly followed by the ground moving under them, was then followed by bits of dirt that sprinkled around them.

  "Two shuttles rendered unuseable. Let's get the hades out of here," Zohra spoke, rising and pulling Harriet with her. However, Harriet's legs were not functioning properly and Zohra did not waste anytime, but hoisted her onto her shoulder. Somewhere during the bumpy ride, Harriet blacked out.

  ***

  *

  Consciousness for Harriet came in starts, with reoccurring flashes of light behind her eyelids giving her something to focus on. When they ceased it was the soft voices from a conversation from Captain Zohra and Guardian that had her opening her eyes. They were in the car, hopefully being transported back to the Lair. Across from her was Zohra, not looking the worse for wear. In the seat next to her was a duffle bag, and another was on the floor.

  Taking a deep breath, she could feel a twinge in her side. Being secured in the harness did not give her much room to move her limbs to see how well she functioned, and for a moment, she had to fight with the fear of being restrained.

  "How are you doing, Alexandra?" a voice from far a way asked. Harriet's mind tried to pinpoint from where that had come from. And decided not to answer it. It did not fit in with her present reality. What reality was that? She closed her eyes and tried to focus on what she could feel, then what her senses told her, and then she dared to open her eyes again.

  "How are you feeling?" Captain Zohra asked.

  "How long was I out?" Lt. Montran asked, her voice sounding faint.

  "From topside to the car...about thirty stan minutes." Zohra's eyes moved to Carol. "You both look like you need a medibot and a good soak in something to make you sleep well."

  "Sounds good to me," Harriet mumbled. The images of another time and place started to play against the insides of her mind, and she struggled to change her focus. "What was going on topside?" she rasped.

  "Chaney's guards grabbed you and Alan's soldiers Carol. Both sides had what the other wanted. When the direct approach didn't work, they administered a drug to loosen your tongue but," Captain Zohra's lips curled into a smile, "you spoke in a language the translators didn't recognize. You'll have to tell me how you did that." She looked towards Carol who appeared to be sleeping next to Montran. "They didn't bother questioning Carol…they thought whoever owns her would have made it impossible to question her." Captain Zohra frowned. "Lady Varina wants her father's metradame back…bad…unmarked and undamaged. Alan's group was not in a position to bargain because they were instructed to capture you if you were still alive, unharmed."

  "Ahh. And like good little metrasoldiers, programmed to take orders without deviating…they will obey to the letter. Lucky us," she whispered.

  Zohra stretched her legs and regarded the two women sitting across from her. "He's only had these soldiers for three stan years. He's been testing them on how much initiative to give them. He tests them at Chaney's training compound against veteran Black Rose fighters. Lord Chaney was contemptuous of them, considering we beat Alan's little soldiers in the majority of skirmishes. You must have trained against them too, Carol."

  Carols eyes opened at that and nodded. "Lord Chaney was toying with the idea of getting a small army of his own. However, Lady Varina showed him the cost of having his own army. It was cheaper to let the Committee pay for an army, and he could just mentor a group, hoping to pick a few that were willing to do some personal work on the side."

  Zohra snorted. "He picked the Black Rose because of the name. Then he picked a few now and then to do special chores for him. Once on his special team…he had a vise grip on you and your activities."

  "So, you must have been…" Harriet guessed.

  "Hold it!" she interrupted quickly. "I was not on any of his special teams…until this outpost assignment. I was picked by Captain Miller because I'm one of the few that has lasted as long in the Black Rose. This job was supposed to have been a walk on the quiet side…a respite from fighting. It was to primarily keep an eye on Lord Chaney's partner that he suspected was dealing him out. Just a nice cushy babysitting job."

  Not going to share what your real job was, huh Captain? "Living among smugglers who would prefer to take you out if you were alone is not what I would label a cushy job," Montran remarked neutrally.

  Both women chose not to mention that smugglers were just the group who Spartans were supposed to be arresting…or in Black Rose tradition, eliminating permanently.

  Harriet turned to look at Carol who was her normally quiet self, however there was a change in her demeanor that Harriet was not sure if she was feeling it right.

  "Carol are you well?" she spoke softly, still not able to raise her voice.

  Carol opened her eyes and glanced at her. She nodded. "Yes, thank you for asking." She moved her hand up to her helmet where a cut on her cheek was bruising. She looked into Harriet's eyes and gave her a small smile. "I'm not use to…feeling…this way," she admitted. "But, Guardian's second skin has protected me from any infection I may have picked up."

  Harriet nodded, "I feel like I've been used as a punching bag."

  "They didn't know about the second skin or that much about the outer suit, or they would have removed them," Zohra remarked. "They were fighting over who would get your outersuits, so the exchange was to include everything you wore. I be
t there are two very angry individuals right now that lost not just you two but their trophies of plunder." Zohra leaned her head back and chuckled.

  Trophies, Harriet thought. That brought the images of her in a previous interrogation room back in a flash. She gulped back the nauseous feeling. She did not realize the outersuit released a drug into her system until the feeling suddenly left. She blinked her eyes opened surprised. Her thoughts were beginning to clear and her sore throat was already beginning to feel less raw.

  "Flashbacks?" Zohra asked quietly, not sure if this was a good time to bring it up, and wondering if this would mean Lady Montran would not be going on any more recon missions.

  Harriet nodded and then her eyes moved to the two duffle bags next to Zohra. "I see you've picked up your belongings."

  "One is mine," she gently tapped the other bag with her boot. "This is Carol's stuff."

  Harriet glanced at Carol and smiled and then back at Zohra. Images of Zohra in her thronged underwear had Harriet grinning, which became an embarrassed laugh when she noticed Zohra was watching her.

 

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