Merker's Outpost

by I. Christie

  ***

  Chapter 16

  "Welcome back, Warriors!" Charles greeted as the doors to Com-C opened. All the screens were active but few showed activity. Guardian's image appeared as they moved in the room.

  Charles had a steaming cup of tea for each of the women.

  "Hmmm. Arora," Harriet hummed, it was great for dulling pain. Just the thing they needed. The three women sank in the chairs Charles provided them.

  "Well, we have certainly shaken up their operation!" Guardian announced when he was eye level to them.

  "I'm glad to see you are still up and running." Harriet wondered if he would tell them why he was shut down when Maud had rescued her.

  The Copoc waved two of his left hands. "It was but a ploy. The young trespasser needs some false trails to keep him off balance. He can be as useful as he can be a pest."

  "So, have you intercepted any communication with Alan or smugglers?" Captain Zohra asked.

  "None. They seemed to have already received their orders and are moving forward with it."

  Six screens showed areas that were busy with Alan's group, the remaining Spartans, a dark figure that Harriet did not recognize and Chaney's soldiers and Alan's solders arguing. Fortunately, the two doing the arguing were well disciplined and did not resort to blows. Their aids looked tense but, again, they had no weapons.

  "Why didn't they have weapons for the swap?" Harriet asked.

  "I believe for two reasons. They didn't want to take the chance you would get hold of one and they don't trust each other." Zohra turned to look directly at her, giving Harriet a disquieting feeling. "You have earned yourself a reputation of being very dangerous when awake." This was delivered with a smirk.

  Lt. Montran gave a snort of disgust. "Well, then I'm lucky that they believe all that rot, or maybe both of us would have been dead."

  Zohra shook here head. "You and Carol were the only two that would not have been hurt…now I, on the other hand…"

  She then returned her attention to the meeting going on with the two groups. Guardian had the volume on low. So far, they were not saying anything that they needed to know, except Alan was definitely on his way.

  "Guardian, what about the Cretian that shot me? Where does he fit in with all of this?"

  "He's the one that told Chaney's lieutenant that he found you. They were laying a trap for you when Alan's soldiers butted in and…"

  "So he's Chaney's informant…" Lt. Montran mused.

  "He sells information…to anyone that is willing to pay," Zohra corrected. "The reason why he is still alive is that he knew who to sell it to and how to pick up information without being detected," Zohra explained. "No one knows what his species is or from where he came from. The guess is he's from one of the closed planets the smuggler's visited. A stow-way."

  "I have been studying him. He is impervious…" Guardian began.

  "How do you know he's a he?" Lt. Montran tiredly cocked her head at the Copoc's figure on the chair.

  "I am a scientist. I do know how to run tests to tell if a species is gendered and what gender it is," he replied indignantly.

  Harriet laughed and so did the others, breaking the tension.

  "Well, you'll let me know if anything develops that I need to know about, huh?" Zohra asked while rising from her chair. "I'm going to take a shower, soak out some of these bruises and then hit the sack. 0600 stan hours, I'll see you two in the workout room."

  "Before you return to your quarters, Lt. Montran. I would like the medibot to have a look at you," Guardian's voice was apologetic. "It was very unfortunate that you two were captured and you were damaged."

  "How long will it take…because I feel fine, just sore," she flexed her hands which she now distinctly remembered were broken, "and to go anywhere but a hot tub and then bed…I just don't have the energy."

  "Well, Ald will see to you then. Please follow his suggestions," Guardian suggested.

  "Why would you think I would not?"

  "You military types…for some reason like to ask for meds after suffering for a long time…and you don't need to."

  "Well, you don't have to lump me there with the common soldier…I don't like pain and I will love to have a painless sleep." Harriet looked at Carol. "Let's go soak in Ald's special brew."

  Harriet waved to the Copoc as she moved out the door and then back to face him. "Just how much time do you think we have for sleep before trouble happens?"

  "I will call you if anything happens before eight hours. Alan is still weeks away."

  "Why is he trying to destroy this outpost or turn it into an armed camp? There has to be something of value here...and don't tell me it's me," Harriet countered before Guardian could make the suggestion.

  "I was not going to say that. This planet does have its cities for different species, fully operational laboratories and..."

  "Can we resume this conversation - tomorrow? I'm sure by then, you can decide whether you want to tell me what's really so important about this planet that has Allen wanting to occupy it and or destroy it. I don't see him setting up a permanent base here or use your science facilities."

  "We can resume this conversation after you have had some sleep," Guardian agreed pleasantly.

  "Thank you for the tea, Charles," Harriet mentioned to Charles.

  "Sweet dreams, Warriors."

  ***

  **

  Carol heard the bath water running when they entered their quarters and breathed in the fragrance of the oil heated from the water. She was relieved they would not have to wait long for the tub to fill. She too felt tired…another sensation her previous program had not allowed her to feel…and pain. She touched the injuries to her face that she received in her fight with the metrasoldiers that had netted her. Her capture by Alan's soldiers kicked in her survival training that Lord Chaney had her undergo as part of her bodyguard training. Alan's metrasoldiers would not have been told of what to look for in a metraperson that was not under the influence of the chip. She had witnessed Alan's soldiers' behavior in Lord Chaney's presence enough to know Alan would not have risked giving his soldiers any information on their condition enforced by a chip implant.

  The soldiers from the Chaney household, as good as there are, did not have very much information about metrapeople except that Lord Chaney's metradame was not to be trifled with under the penalty of death. Varina had a lot to worry about and Carol knew why she would want to possess her, and not just for her personal pleasures. Much of the information Lord Chaney had spoken to her about was to protect him should he be assassinated by his ambitious daughter or some other political figures that Lord Chaney had a vise grip around. If he had been assassinated, she had another program to follow which Lord Chaney called 'Dark Stealth.' Until all those involved in his death were personally ruined in all levels of his or her life would Sheila's program then go on self-destruct. Carol's lips curved into a smile. He had thought of all the ways to prevent her from being stopped before she completed her mission, including her training in assassinations; however, it never occurred to him that he would die from someone not motivated by politics or with the intent on killing him, thus only giving her the usual program to fall back on. It was the basic revenge killing: when someone kills your master or mistress, kill him or her before you are deactivated and reprogrammed.

  Carol sat patiently as Ald administered meds to her cuts and bruises, noticing that her mistress was being assisted in her undressing by the butler. Carol knew if she had not been trained in what to do in a hostage situation and if her mistress had programmed her as hers, she would have lost both their lives attempting to rescue her mistress. It was easy to determine a strategy, since both the metrasoldiers and Lord Chaney's staff believed her to be just another metraperson, a robot that only obeyed orders. They were trying to determine if her mistress had in fact captured her and reprogrammed her and if so, what did she impart to her new owner. The other thought was, since they did not know who killed Lord Chaney that she
was searching out that person in 'Stealth Mode'. If she was in Stealth, then for them to interfere would be putting them in counter allegiance to their new boss, Lady Chaney. What if Lady Chaney was the one that was responsible for his death? Under the guise of following Lady Chaney's orders, they attempted to extract information from Lady Montran before Alan took possession of her, knowing that whatever they did to her, as a soon-to-be metradame, it would not matter.

  General Catov, the head of the late Lord Chaney's private guard, did not like the idea of turning over titled clan members to the likes of Alan to be turned into a metraperson and was figuring out how to circumvent it. He was lucky when the matter was taken out of his hands. Carol smiled in contempt. Like Lord Chaney, he carried on conversations within her sharp hearing, as if she did not exist. The metrasoldiers had also overheard his conversation, which was why they attacked General Catov and his group.

  ***

  Harriet did not attempt to remove her outersuit. She hurt too much to move around. The butler did it all, just as one of its program called for. Harriet glanced at her side that was hurting the most. Memories of how she got it threatened to overlap with memories of another time she was captured behind enemy lines. Stiffly she moved towards the bathing room.

  After showering the two women slid into the warmed bubbling waters of the pool.

  "Oooh. This is nice," Harriet moaned. There was a long moment of quiet as each woman let their systems wind down. "I wonder where the captain is? I thought she would be in here first." Harriet squeezed Carol's fingers that had slid into hers under the water, giving both of them comfort for their ordeal. Harriet had thought she had some cracked ribs, but Ald did not find any. "Ahh, that's right. She has to debrief whoever she works for," she muttered and promply fell into a doze.

  "Do you mind if I join y'all?" Captain Zohra's soft voice asked.

  Harriet started and would have slipped off her perch if Carol's hand not grabbed her elbow.

  "Please join us," Carol answered.

  Harriet did not watch the athletic form of the captain's slide into the water, but the slight rise of the water was noticeable. Her mind was as weary as her body, so when she sensed something different in the water she was surprised at how quickly her body responded. It was a subtle feeling of sensuousness that began a more pleasant throbbing in her body. Harriet forced herself to be aware of the gentle firm pulse from the water jets as they fluttered against her and the recorded sounds of a waterfall in the background; however, she felt her desire turn into vivid images of Zohra's muscular body that her hands twitched to study in detail. Guiltily she looked at both of her companions, relieved that they appeared to be wrapped up in their own thoughts.

  Helgas bloody moon! If it's not about one it's about the other. Now would be a good time to get outta here. "Well, I'm done here," Harriet told the others as she climbed out quickly.

  "Jeeezze!" Captain Zohra exclaimed.

  Harriet had forgotten about her bruises.

  "You need meds, soldier," the captain shook her head in concern. "Why didn't you take care of those right away? Where's the medibot?"

  "I don't need a medikit and herb paste will be fine," Harriet objected, not in the mood to go down to the infirmary.

  "May I suggest something?" Ald asked.

  "You can tell us were the meds are, if you have any," Captain Zohra responded.

  "In the cabinet near the sinks," Ald reported obediently.

  Harriet followed the bot to the cabinet, drying herself as she went, and trying to not turn to face the dark eyes that she could feel studying her. Carol also climbed out of the water, leaving a second trail of water through their miniature tropical garden. It was Carol who sorted through the herb jars.

  "Look at this collection!" Harriet marveled over her shoulder. "He's got it stocked with every herb potion for all known and unknown illnesses…both imagined and otherwise, by the looks of it."

  Captain Zohra joined them.

  "This one is what you want." The captain leaned over Carol's other shoulder, dripping water on her. Zohra selected a bright red bottle with strange writing on it.

  "A good choice," Ald added approvingly. "It comes from the Plaetar system. They make the best meds from natural herbs for healing bruises."

  Captain Zohra straightened up and faced Harriet. Beaded water dripped down the slim form in rivulets following the creases of muscles that gave her form further definition. She held up the bottle, shaking it in front of Harriet's eyes, that were caught by the small diamonds that glittered from the nipple rings. She was struggling not to look further down to see if that ring was also still worn.

  "I'll put it on myself," she informed her in a strong voice, belying her hormonal rush.

  The captain laughed and asked in a seductive voice, "Afraid of something?"

  "What do you mean?" Harriet asked, her voice suddenly hoarse.

  "A bit of pain with your pleasure?"

  Harriet blinked a few times not sure on which level to answer.

  "The right intensity of pain can be pleasurable…"

  Harriet cleared her voice, embarrassed at her reaction. "Like what?" she boldly asked, deciding to push Zohra's game.

  Lips curled at the edges, and her dark eyes were sparkling in the light. "Oh, like a deep massage to sore muscles. Hurts like fire, but it feels…sooo good when its all finished. Hmm?"

  Then she added in a normal voice, purposely breaking the spell, "A bit of a sting, and then it numbs the injured area in about three seconds."

  So…she wants to keep playing, huh? Harriet smiled and handed the bottle to her, pointing to the large bruise on her thigh. "Rank has its privileges."

  "We're the same rank….just different services and political bosses, Lady Harriet." Her voice lowered, "Are you saying you don't trust me?"

  Trust? I don't know you or what you want.

  Carol took the bottle from the captain's hand. "You two are making this into a long production. We all need to get some rest. Please, sit, Captain Zohra."

  A chair appeared out of the wall.

  After Carol rubbed the paste over both women's bodies, Captain Zohra returned to her quarters and Carol and Harriet returned to theirs.

  Everyone fell asleep quickly.

  ***

  Chapter 17

  "Who are you and why have you come?" demanded an indistinguishable voice from behind the dark cowl that covered the Inquisitor's face. The lone figure that waited on the dock looked up at the dark figure.

  "I am -- a Quester." The initiate paused for a moment. Why was she there? And, what was a Quester? Where had that come from? Looking down at her hands, she noticed that she wore one signet ring, which for some reason she could not identify the design, a long robe, which looked gray in color. At her waist was an empty scabbard. She did not think anything was out of place. She just did not know exactly why she was there.

  "We have many Questers. What have you to say?" The impatient voice boomed.

  "I..." The figure in gray paused and looked out over the water from where she had come from. The small boat was no longer in sight. She had to remember why she was standing before the Inquisitor. She suddenly remembered.

  "This one stands before thee, High Priestess, guardian to the Portal of Athena, Mistress of the Warrior Queens and their loyal followers, to ask for admittance into the Hall of Mirrors." She felt pleased with herself for she remembered the long salutation after all these centuries.

  Centuries?

  The dark figure before her remained standing, silent, and unwavering. Was it but a mechanical servant? Or, did those of the Spirit world not move as those in the Land of Form? She waited for what seemed a long time, but time was not something that passed here, so she really was not sure if she waited at all, or whether it was just her self-absorption that made it seem like time had passed.

  The figure turned and walked back into the darkness. She followed as if this was as it should be. Had she done this before?

  There wa
s blackness all around her and though she did not feel her legs or arms were moving, she did know that she was moving forward.

  It seemed like she blinked and before her were mirrors. Turning slowly she could see that they surrounded her. She had made it! Now what? What was the next part to her quest? Sighing, she put her finger to her pursed lips, as if to think. For a moment she remembered someone else using the same gesture. She shook her head mentally to focus on her Quest.

  Was she to look in the mirrors or not? There was an important instruction her mentor had given her. Was it for the Hall of Mirrors? Looking in the mirror before her she saw only a shadowy form. 'Do not focus on the image,' that's what she had been told. 'Look to the side.' She could see from the sides of her eyes that the shadowy form in the mirror was changing shapes and some of them were scary, but she kept her sight on the side of the form. 'Do not identify with your shadows,' her mentor had told her. 'They are but your critical vision of yourself.' Those are issues for your physical self to dispel, not your Spirit Self, she reminded herself.