Merker's Outpost

by I. Christie

  He slammed the lid of the pod down. He contemplated on whether to put her in stasis now or wait.

  "Alan! Get in you gear and get up here!"

  He hit the activate button. He would not have much time to play with her anyway.

  Vanster watched the Rouster that was on autopilot, sail into view on her screen. Hiding behind the space debris, she plotted possible places a tail could be waiting for them to appear. Nothing. The Trojan Horse's systems were brought back online.

  Alan was reading the same readings looking for anything that would show the ship was followed. If he had his stick people, he would have been able to ask them. He was going to start his restless pacing but a glare from the Black Rose soldier had him reseat himself. He consoled himself that for now, their lives were in her hands...but he ultimately held hers in his hand or actually, on the back of his hand. Her life was dependent that he not send a transmission to the implanted chip that would cause her death…a painful death at that.

  He was quite pleased with the things the metralab produced, though only the elite could afford the cost of the outlawed devices. They were manufactured on HinterWield, the prison colony, originally to keep the violent inmates subdued, until a scientist with another agenda took over the management of the colony. Through this contact, he had finally found a scientist that knew how to remove his chip without the side effects. Inmates at the prison colony were his practice subjects. He had plenty of volunteers, as most wanted their chip removed.

  "Don't touch that!" Vanster angrily hissed at Alan. He was about to send a life reading probe to the ship.

  "If the ship's being followed they will sense our probes. Let me handle this!"

  Alan withdrew his hand guiltily. He had not thought of that. He sighed and got up from the chair. He would pace in the anteroom. He was on half meds and felt himself strangely adrift, but he did not want to be too tranquil.

  Vanster ignored the man that had enslaved her and continued to study the ship and the surrounding area. Her instinct told her returning to the Rouster was not a good idea, but she had no vote in the decision. The slight bump from contact with the hull of the Rouster had her fingers quickly verifying that the hatches were lined up properly, okaying the lock releases to allow for the opening up of the two hatches, while coaxing the sluggish controls to angle their combined bulk to stay near the center of the debris trail to avoid easy pickings should a patrol ship show up.

  "Alan, get your butt over there and back quick!" Sgt. Vanster ordered.

  Alan hit a small button that would deactivate the traps he had mined the ship with, unlatched the opening of one ship and then the other that was to his favorite ship. He regretted leaving the Rouster. Too many people would recognize it as his and the Trojan Horse was a newer and faster model.

  What he wanted was left on his chair, which had probably slipped between the seat and chair back. Cautiously entering the bridge, he sniffed the air. The odor of Hemmitt's fear and body excrements were thick in the air. Breathing shallowly and working frantically to pull his precious box out from the crease of the pilot's chair, he looked up to a fist that slammed into his face. Alan's legs neatly buckled, dropping him onto the carpeted deck of his ship unconscious.

  "Alan! Bloody moon!"

  A ship appeared on her screen, it was broad on Trojan Horse's port quarter. She hit the disengage switch. The moment the lights showed her the hatch was sealed and no longer connected, she dropped Trojan Horse beneath Rouster's belly and rolled her to the other side of the Rouster and then fired the ship behind debris. Alan not replying, not even with his death switch, meant trouble. She weaved in and out playing a dangerous game of hide and seek around the moving space junk until a reasonably good spot in a large asteroid appeared, where she could hide the ship. She shut off all systems that would give a reading of her location…and then the waiting game started.

  Sgt. Vanstar leaned back in her chair and considered her options in the darkened bridge. She was still alive, that meant Alan was probably powerless at the moment. The need to move out of range of his device was overpowering, but she squelched it knowing it was not a good idea. Instead, she returned to the back of the ship and checked on her live cargo.

  I could just release her…no, not yet. Then I'll have to listen to her mouth. Damn prissy class. They should just stick with their never-ending parties.

  After what would pass as half a stan day, Sgt. Vanster decided to make a break for it. She had no doubt the patrol ship was still around, but she had an appointment to keep. Alan not returning made it easier to keep the appointment. She was not naive to believe that he would let her go, minus the implant, after she had helped him kidnap Lady Alexandra Harriet Montran, so she had made her own arrangements. The ship's power came online quickly with the console lighting up with readings. Trojan Horse was the top of the line model, and it had a lot of extra do'dads that she guessed Alan did not even understand. If she were going to steal a ship, this would be her first choice.

  The space eddy that the large asteroid was drifting in was nearing the jump gate. She read the tactical to see when the gate's deflector would begin to exert its influence, gently pushing the flow around the gate. Then the autotrawlers would scoop up the space trash and haul it away, while the real space debris, unless it was of value, would be left to drift. She intended to hit the gate with all the gs that could be mustered. Once through the gate, they would not know where she headed. Before her break from the eddy, the sensors picked up a ship that was right on her tail.

  "Bloody moon!" Just as the Trojan Horse leaped forward, the ship suffered a shot dead astern. It was meant to disable her engines, however, the Trojan Horse was better protected than the average law abiding citizen's vessel would be. However, the impact sent the Trojan Horse too far forward. It put her at the wrong angle to make it cleanly into the gate. The ships tactical immediately began to reposition the ship with abrupt and evasive maneuvers that Sgt. Vanster had preprogrammed. The sudden moves caused her to miss hit the intended engage button… or so she thought, but the ship went into hyperspace. Off balance, she was tossed, knocking her unconscious. The Trojan Horse obediently moved forward, through the jump gate and to a preset destination, without the help of its injured pilot.

  It was days later that Vanster opened her eyes to a screen that showed stars moving by quickly. "Blazes!" she muttered in a daze. Breathing deeply a few times to get her bearings, she let the two days of subliminals soothe her conscious. Tears streaked down Sgt. Vanster face as she lay on the deck, realizing her fears of retribution and of Alan's program of distrust and hate were no longer foremost in her mind…and most of all, that the chip had been removed. Her greatest fear was being controlled by another, unwillingly, and after getting a close-up of Alan's madness, she felt she was justified in the panicked feeling that always was there. Once more composed, her military training kicked in and she rose to check the ship's systems.

  "Helgas bloody moon!" she whispered softly. "So, we are on our way to Alan's planet….and no overrides." She sighed. "Well, Lady Alexandra, it's you and me for eight months if all goes well. At least this vessel has more power behind it than the little pod he put you in. I had better send a message to the general, she's gonna want to know what the hell I've done with Lady Alexandra. Bloody moon, what a mess."

  Finished with that she turned to his databanks, wondering what she was going to have to bear for the next eight months. The program was easy to access. It was something that would give a faint-hearted person nightmares. "This guy is sick. I gotta pull her outta that pod until I can clear the program buffer and put something else in there."

  I hope she's not going to wake up swinging. This will be a hell of a time to see who has a meaner punch.

  The lid cleared her forehead and she waited as the pale body in the lifepod's chamber gradually began to take on some color.

  ***

  *

  Alexandra could feel the menace around her though she could not move away from it.
The touch of Alan running his fingers over her bare body would have had her trembling if her body was able to respond. He must have injected her with something after Sgt. Vanster brought her aboard.

  She heard the harsh voice of Sgt. Vanster ordering him back to his seat after securing her. That was nice of her considering she was responsible for her being here.

  She is frightened.

  You are here!

  Yes. I wish to go to this place that the other had imagined. It is a place where my ancestors had once been.

  Alan dumped her unceremoniously into the lifepod and since she could not move any limbs, could not rearrange herself more comfortably. She did not have any more time to speak with the Sha'Kar as the pod's deep sleep program started immediately. The images coming from the subliminal began their terrorist program, however, the sentient realizing the images were causing Alexandra discomfort, interfered with the program, halting transmission to her.

  It seemed only moments later Alexandra saw before her a life form that was like a shapeless cloud of millions of tiny cells letting off of sparks of energy, and giving an outline of the form.

  You are being awakened by the one you refer to as Vanster. She is worried you will hurt her.

  Alexandra's waking mind placed her in a sleeping pod, in Alan Fermin's ship, and no telling how much time had passed. Do I have reason to? Alexandra meant it to be sarcastic but the sentient form did not seem to notice.

  No. She is no longer angry. She is worried about your health.

  Where is the other one, the male that was with her?

  Gone.

  Alexandra's eyes blinked with the subdued light overhead. The life pod's nurturing bed adjusted as her bios picked up, and then the lid folded out of the way.

  "What's…." her voice cracked as her dry throat tightened.

  Water was offered with a long straw that flexed to her supine angle.

  Even though her wits were a still a bit scattered, she could feel the difference in Vanster. For that, she was grateful. She was not in any position to defend herself.

  "What's going on?" she asked in a stronger voice.

  Vanster took a deep breath….

  "The short version would do for now…like where are we?" Alexandra suggested.

  "On our way to Arnica, a planet Alan was setting up as his empire."

  "Oh. I take it an override is not possible."

  "Not unless you want the whole life support system to shut down, and even then, the ship will continue on its flight path."

  "He sure was determined to reach this place. Does he have some clothes on this ship?"

  "Yeah. In one of the quarters, he has all sorts of uniforms for himself and clothing. I guess he couldn't make up his mind just what he was going to model his uniform after."

  "Can you give me a hand? We'll go take a look."

  A few hours later the two women had exhausted themselves looking into his containers and finding, weapons of various designs, clothing, games from the handheld to the holographic, and seeds.

  "Wonder why he picked these seeds?"

  Two stomachs growled at the same time. Both women looked up at each other and laughed.

  "Let's hope his choice of food stuffs is better than some of his other choices."

  While the two sat in the cockpit eating a small meal, Alexandra tried to figure out what they were going to do for eight months.

  "I suggest we ride the eight months out in the pods. Boredom in this small craft can do some nasty things to your mind. But first, we need to check his data banks. I know I'm not going to like Alan's form of entertainment," Alexandra mumbled around her sandwich.

  "Hmmm." Vanster nodded with her mouth full. "You're right. While I was waiting for you to wake up…I went through his program files. They are not for the normal person. However, the original pod program is in the backup files. We could look at it and see if that's going to give us less nightmares and then add some stuff from the ship's library."

  "Have you ever been in one of these lifepods?"

  "No, Ma'am. We trained in their use and how to do some minor repair work on them and run diags…but there is no way I wanted to be stuck in one of those…"

  "Are you going to be okay with getting in it?"

  Vanster laughed abruptly. Alexandra watched the colors of her energy field around her change, grateful that she was seeing another side of this soldier. She had entertained Alexandra during lunch, with stories of JG both in her role as the Dungeon Mistress and as a soldier in the Black Rose. They were funny stories, and Alexandra was aware she was keeping the scary ones back. That was okay with her. She did not want any more scary thoughts to go with her when she went back into the sleeping pod.

  "I trust you, Lady Alexandra, but with the Black Rose, we never knew who was the enemy or who had a contract out on any one of us. We were lucky Lord Chaney didn't want us out of action for any length of time. He wasn't a nice guy and treated those that worked for him as expendables…with the exception of the Black Rose. I guess the few of us that lasted as long as we did, he saw us as some kind of warrior blood. Didn't stop him from sending us into some pretty messy situations though. Once your troop, the Degas, was gone, the Central Command found they liked the idea of dropping a trained group in the center of the enemy's camp, and letting them work their way out…just as if you had trained the Degas. The Black Rose felt honored to take up the role and obligated to succeed."

  "Why ever for? We didn't kill anyone. We just stole whatever supplies we could, set off alarms and pretty much left them in a panic, before we ran like hell back to where our ship was supposed to be waiting for us."

  Vanster laughed ruefully. "Your troop made us look bad. We were supposed to be the meanest and the most daring…and here was the Degas troop, a group of misfits no one wanted, doing the impossible…fighting their way out of the enemies' camp, creating havoc and dismay within the enemy's lines…and surviving. We admired you. Did you know the Black Rose tip their first drink to the memory of the Degas troop…not just because of you, but for what the troop represented. Against all odds." She took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry about the last drop, Commander."

  Alexandra nodded. She waited expectantly for the tightness and the heavy feeling of guilt that often accompanied the memory but it did not come.

  "They were great soldiers, Sgt. Vanster. It is good of you to remember them and I hope you continue doing so."

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  Alexandra studied Vanster, looking for an annoyance at her for addressing her by her demoted rank. However, she could not see any discomfort only a small smile. It was going to take some getting use to this changed person.

  Both rose without anymore said and head for the communications closet.

  "Well, let's see what he has in this library that is not obnoxious, violent and or repugnant." She tapped one title, "Arnica. Hm, this can be useful. But, it's not official. Let's not add it to our slumber fest of entertainment. No telling what's in it on a subliminal level." Her finger moved to another, while Vanster was tapping her fingers on the console. "You know, there is no way for us to know what he tampered with and what he has not. Best that we have a quiet ride for those eight months."

  "Here, here," Vanster agreed. "They guy is too creepy to think he would have something that didn't have a sick twist to it."

  "Hmm. Let's go study his records instead. Then we can decide when we'll get into the pods."

  After clearing a space in the cargo area, the two worked out to get rid of the frustration and jitters about their preprogrammed trip. According to Alan's records, he had a small army of metrasoldiers preparing a castle for him. They read the reports the soldiers sent back. These soldiers were from one of the closed and violent planets, so it was not unusual for them to butcher people and burn their homes, which by their reports, was exactly what they were doing. However, the planets inhabitants were not taking his soldiers takeover quietly and were fighting back. Alan's soldiers could not move outside of the
castle without at least one returning dead or injured.

  Alexandra wondered what the Sha'Kar was going to do while they were sleeping. "Incoming message." The computer's voice announced.

  Both women hurried toward the cockpit, plopping in the chairs expectantly.

  "Go ahead," Montran commanded when both were sitting in their chairs.

  Rear Admiral JoCastao's face came on the screen.

  "Well, Lt. Commander Montran and Lt. Vanster. I am glad to see the two of you doing well."

  "Admiral JoCastao," Montran acknowledged. Montran could see Vanster react to the title.