Together Cole and Rhonda pushed the door open and found themselves on the circular catwalk high above the engine room, just as Cole had predicted.
“We may be safe from the convicts, but not from the planet, yet, kiddo.”
Even Cole’s pessimism couldn’t snuff out Rhonda’s relief. “You are such a killjoy, you know that?”
It seemed cooler at that level than in the tunnel, but as Rhonda looked down, the sight of the wreckage on that floor almost crushed her hope.
Heavy equipment had dropped from the ceiling, automatic arms and luminous panels blinked and beeped without attendance. A thick gray dust covered floor and machines. The smell of smoke and burned rubber pervaded the room.
At least, someone had shut down the strident alarm system, but the A.I. kept sending automated messages. “All Garrison personnel, please evacuate the facility immediately...”
Locking the door behind them, Cole didn’t seem surprised by the devastation. “Don’t worry about the Garrison. We don’t need it anymore. All we have to do now is make it to the surface and meet the others on that mercenary ship.”
“Yes, the ship." Now in known territory, Rhonda took heart. Rushing across the catwalk toward the metallic stairs leading to the floor, she wondered how the surface would look. “We’ll need respirators and arctic Parkas, unless the temperature has risen on the surface as well.”
“The elevators will be out of order. We’ll probably have to take the stairs." Cole finally sounded excited about getting out.
Her steps and Cole’s echoed on the metallic stairs leading down from the catwalk. Part of the way down, another tremor destabilized Rhonda. Her foot slipped. She grabbed the railing as the skimpy stairs unhinged at the landing and swung high above the engine room. Rhonda hung by one arm as the metal ladder flailed in the air with a dreadful metallic screech. Good God, she hoped she could hold on. She had little strength left.
Above her, Cole, who had a white-knuckle clutch on the railing with one hand, reached for her wrist with the other. Struggling up the flying stairs, Rhonda found a step to wedge her foot and met Cole halfway. Their hands touched, and his reassuring grip on her wrist calmed her panic. How chivalrous again. Why did he keep saving her life if he didn’t really care deeply about her? And if he felt for her what she felt for him, then why did he remain so distant?
When the quake finally abated, the twisted flight of stairs didn’t connect with the landing or the floor. Using both hands, Rhonda slid down the railing to the bottom of the flight and dangled above the dusty floor. Aiming for a patch of floor without debris or sharp edges, she dropped and hit the floor harder than she expected. Stunned for a few seconds, she rolled aside to make room for Cole.
Cole leapt down next to her. Despite the grime on his face, he looked concerned. “Are you okay, kiddo?”
Grateful to be alive, Rhonda brushed herself and refused his help to get up. When would he understand she could take care of herself? Once on her feet, she took in the familiar surroundings. Here, too, things had changed. Even the Garrison didn’t feel like a safe refuge anymore.
“Come on." Cole dashed toward the main hallway.
Rhonda followed gladly, but when they emerged into the wide passage that usually displayed holographic scenes of Earth’s natural beauties, they stopped. A dozen fierce soldiers in dark green uniforms now lined the bare gray walls and pointed their weapons at the two guards. Definitely not inmates, not Duran troops or reinforcement guards either. Who were they? They didn’t look friendly.
Following Cole’s example, Rhonda’s drew her phaser. Cole already aimed for the closest soldier but didn’t pull the trigger. Neither did the soldiers as they stared, poised to shoot. Holding her breath, a death grip on her phaser, Rhonda waited in the thick silence.
The leader of the group, a young man with a hairless jaw, advanced upon the two guards, weapon in hand, and halted a meter away from Rhonda and Cole. “In the name of Zarah Minoux, legitimate princess of the Andromeda Galaxy, surrender your weapons or die.”
*****
Cole couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Zarah Minoux? The dangerous political prisoner? Now the discovery of the mercenary ship on the surface made sense. It must be their ship, and they would certainly fight to keep it. What had happened to the other guards?
Obviously, these soldiers pointing their phasers at Cole and Rhonda had come to free the elusive rebel princess. Where was she? Not here, obviously. Some rebel soldiers looked young and scared while seasoned armed warriors stared at Cole like hardened professionals with nothing to lose. A few young fanatics with unreadable faces seemed ready to pull the trigger at the slightest sign from their leader. All of them looked human, all of them dangerous.
Cole didn’t stand a chance against a superior number of armed professional soldiers. Still, he hesitated. But the look of determination in the rebel’s faces told him they would shoot if he didn’t capitulate. When he motioned Rhonda to drop her phaser, she laid it on the floor with some reluctance.
Crouching slowly, Cole set down his weapon then rose, hands up in surrender. He hated the funny feeling that twisted his gut. Cole had lost control of the situation and couldn’t stand seeing his post of twelve years overrun by rebels. The Garrison had been his home, his command. How dare they take it from him?
The young officer called two soldiers to check Cole and Rhonda. As Cole struggled to keep calm, hands behind his head, he felt the soldier patting him. The man found the yataghan blade in his boot and threw it on the floor. The other soldier found Rhonda’s dagger, then a woman soldier gathered the weapons and took them away. Cole noticed many females among the troops. Of course, a princess would favor her own gender.
Cole remembered how Rhonda so easily adapted to new situations. He had to be flexible and loosen up if he wanted to find a way to save his crew. He’d always played by the rules before and would never have considered negotiating with criminals, but Cole had already broken many rules since this ordeal had begun.
In these desperate circumstances, Cole must think of the safety of the guards. He had little to offer in exchange for their lives, but the most palatable currency for that kind of thugs would be weapons. Cole knew hundreds of crates stored in the armory contained thousands of firearms, phasers and blades.
As repulsive as it sounded, Cole might have to cut a deal with the rebels as a last resort to save his crew. He hoped it wasn’t too late already. “May I speak to whoever is in charge of your gang?”
“We are not a gang." The rebel officer seemed offended. “We are the extended personal guard of our royal princess, Zarah Minoux!”
Cole held up one hands in entreaty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend anyone.”
The rebel officer motioned with his gun for Cole and Rhonda to march ahead of him in the direction of the recreational quarters. “Quickly. We have little time.”
Raised on Upsilon Three in the Andromeda system, Cole now recognized the colors of the uniform. Emerald and forest green. The colors of the former royal family of Andromeda. As he walked down the gray hallway, he tried to remember more of what he’d read about Zarah Minoux in her file.
Her rebel fighters had threatened the profitable peace established by Duran in the Andromeda Galaxy. She’d been incarcerated for inciting terrorist attacks upon the corporation. Duran had zero tolerance for terrorists, and Cole fully agreed on that point, although...
Cole winced at the memory that Rhonda herself had committed an act of terrorism upon Duran after the death of her sister. Lately, it had become more and more difficult to make just decisions. He gave Rhonda a reassuring smile. How could he possibly blame her?
A tremor shook the hallway, confirming the urgency of their situation. Cole spread his stance for balance and checked on Rhonda. She looked fine. Mighty fine, despite the caked dust and the scratches on her face. The quake subsided but the next one could bury the Garrison under tons of debris.
As he hurried alongside Rhonda, Cole thought about the Andromeda r
oyal family but the name only conjured images of the chained princess mentioned in the Earth legends he’d studied on Upsilon Three.
In Greek Mythology, Princess Andromeda had been the embodiment of feminine beauty. Andromeda’s mother had insulted the god Poseidon by likening her beauty to that of the Naiades. When the oracle told Andromeda’s father the only way to appease the god and save his people was to sacrifice his daughter, he’d reluctantly tied the beautiful Andromeda to a rock on the shore, and left her to be devoured by a sea monster.
But the mythical hero Perseus, passing by on his horse, saw the gorgeous princess in peril and saved her by defeating and killing the sea monster. Then Perseus married Andromeda, and together they started a long line of mythical heroes.
As Cole, Rhonda, and their captors approached the training gym, Cole hoped these royal soldiers would accept his plea to save the guards, and have the good sense to leave very soon. He entered the gym and gasped.
On the wood floor, crates of weapons from the Garrison’s extensive armory lay in stacks, each container marked with the unmistakable seal of the Duran Corporation. A few soldiers opened the crates and took a quick inventory while others carried the inventoried containers away, presumably to their ship.
Cole fought to control his anger but couldn’t help shouting. “What the hell do you think you are doing? This is Duran property.”
The soldier behind him punched Cole’s kidney. “You speak with respect in Princess Zarah’s presence.”
The force of the blow sent radiating pain throughout Cole’s body. He felt Rhonda’s arms supporting him as he struggled to remain standing. Cole suppressed an expletive. He didn’t see any princess around.
“Hold your torpedoes, Sarge!" Raylor, his gray uniform in disarray, detached himself from a small group of rebels checking the crates and came to meet Cole. “Sorry about that, Captain." Raylor waved away the young officer. “I’ll vouch for them. Return to your post.”
“Raylor! What the hell are you doing with these people? Did you open the armory for them?" Cole never quite trusted Raylor, but now he understood why. The man simply had no principles. “Helping an escapee is treason. You are arming dangerous terrorists." The irony that Cole himself had the same thought, although for a nobler cause, didn’t soften his anger.
“These people are my friends." Raylor offered a casual smile. “You don’t understand.”
“Nor do I care to." Cole had enough of Raylor’s slack attitude and regained his natural authority. “Where are the other guards?”
Raylor seemed amused. “Don’t get excited, Captain. We are trying to help them." Did he find that funny?
“Trying?" Anger rose in Cole’s throat. “That’s not good enough. Where are they?”
“Several are on their way,” Raylor volunteered almost reluctantly. “Others have not reported in yet, but we still have hope.”
“So, I assume you have a pilot, too?" Cole wondered where Raylor found one. Had he broken into the prisoner’s files?
Raylor smiled coyly. “You are looking at him. That’s my ship up there.”
Then all became clear. Raylor had not betrayed the Garrison. He had been a mercenary in the employ of Zarah Minoux from the start. He had infiltrated the Garrison for an ulterior purpose. Cole shook with rage at the betrayal. “You’ve been preparing her escape since you hired on as a guard?”
Raylor shrugged and offered an embarrassed smile. “Things are rarely what they seem.”
“You, son-of-a-bitch. And for the past ten days, we’ve been looking for a way out. You knew there was a hidden ship all along, and you didn’t tell us? We could’ve gotten killed a hundred times down there!" Cole rushed Raylor, intent on smashing his face.
Raylor side-stepped.
Rhonda grabbed Cole and pulled him back with unexpected strength. “Cool off, Captain,” she shouted. “We’ve got to get out of here. All of us."
Frustrated, Cole snorted and shook his head in disgust. “Who will gather the Garrison crew?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them." Raylor casually stepped back and remained at a safe distance.
“How? By killing them all? I don’t trust a mercenary with multiple allegiances." Cole glared at Raylor. “I should be directing the rescue and be the last one to leave.”
Raylor scoffed. “But you are not in charge, anymore, Captain. So you do as we say.”
The insult enraged Cole further. “And who’s we?" He had enough of Raylor’s sick games.
“That would be me." Stepping out from behind a stack of crates, Princess Zarah Minoux looked regal all right, although she was petite and seemed to favor one foot. Her long straight auburn hair, parted in the middle, fell on each side of her perfect oval face. Somehow, she had traded her prison smock for a uniform of emerald and forest green. Only a gold piping and the silky material differentiated her garb from that of her troops, but natural authority flowed from her lips and her proud bearing. “Captain Cole Riggeur, I heard much about you, and I would like your word that you will not endanger this operation.”
“Impossible." Cole could not accept the idea of letting a terrorist escape. “I’ll never endorse your methods.”
Rhonda stepped between the two and scolded Cole like a child. “Then make an alliance to save your crew." Rhonda had said the magic words. The crew...
How could Cole condemn his guards? He took the measure of the princess. “You would take them to safety?”
Zarah Minoux smiled. “I already made an advantageous deal with Raylor for the weapons. And I promise you we will do our utmost to help the guards make it to our ship as safely as possible.”
“Thanks." Still furious at Raylor, although a minute earlier Cole had been ready to do the same, Cole couldn’t help admonishing him. “How could you sell them our weapons? You despicable weasel.”
“Actually, Raylor here saved your miserable life." Zarah Minoux sounded impatient. “He blackmailed me to take you and the other guards on board. I agreed against my better judgment, but I can still change my mind.”
Cole refused to trust a convict, princess or not. He hated his situation. “And why would an escapee help the guards?”
“I hold no grudge,” Princess Zarah said with conviction. “They are not responsible for my wrongful imprisonment.”
“Wrongful?" The word arrested Cole thoughts. “Did you say wrongful imprisonment?”
“You heard me right." Princess Zarah took a deep breath. “Duran wanted me out of the way. When legal means and corruption didn’t work, they framed me for terrorism. I did nothing to deserve incarceration, and even less the torture and the humiliations Duran inflicted upon me." Her angry tone and the emotion that choked her voice left no doubt about the veracity of her accusations.
“I’m so sorry,” Rhonda volunteered. “They tortured my sister, too.”
Cole had heard rumors about Duran torturing prisoners for information despite the Treaty of Vestusta that guaranteed the humane treatment of inmates. But he’d never been able to verify the rumors and certainly never had heard a first hand accusation. Disgusted by the very concept, he hid his compassion behind professional coolness. “Listen to any convict, and they’ll make you believe they are innocent.”
“Believe what you want. I intend to denounce Duran’s tactics, clear my name, and regain my throne." Zarah’s tone softened. “You kindly let me take the weapons and agree not to make any trouble, and I’ll let you and your guards on my rescue ship, although you, Captain, will have to travel in the brig.”
“In the brig? Like a criminal?" Cole wanted to scream.
“How about that?" Princess Zarah laughed. “How does it feel to be imprisoned when you didn’t do anything wrong? Believe me, I know the feeling.”
Funny how fast the tables had turned on Cole. “Am I a prisoner, then?”
“A friendly one if you cooperate." Princess Zarah crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him askance. “It’s a long trip, Captain, and I don’t want you to
change your mind and take over my ship, or foment a mutiny. I promise your incarceration on our ship will be humane." Her expression hardened. “But if you refuse my conditions, I can have you executed right here and now. Deal or no deal?”
Rhonda squeezed Cole’s arm. “Even if a few prisoners escape in the process, it’s worth bending the rules, Captain."
In no position to bargain, Cole reluctantly admitted defeat and sighed. “Deal.”
“Good." The princess addressed Rhonda as if Cole didn’t even exist. “Do you vouch for him?”
Rhonda glanced at Cole surreptitiously then faced Zarah again. “Me? Why me?”
“Let’s just say you strike me as a no-nonsense woman, and I tend to trust women who think for themselves." Zarah’s gaze darted from Cole to Rhonda. “Also, women do not torture prisoners." Princess Zarah crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting. “You tell me. Can I trust him?”
Feeling like a child trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, Cole watched the two women decide his fate. When had it come to this? He didn’t dare speak for fear of making things worse.
Did Rhonda enjoy the power she had over Cole? “The Captain is good at honoring his word, but..." Rhonda hesitated for a few endless seconds. Her face finally relaxed. “Well, let’s say he has his flaws, but he’s the most honorable, kind, and reliable man I’ve ever met. I trust him with my life, Zarah.”
The last comment surprised Cole, but he breathed easier. He appreciated loyalty above all, and Rhonda was loyal to him.
The princess smiled. “Good. I’ll leave him in your charge, then." Out of her pocket she pulled two green armbands and handed them to Rhonda. “Wear them at all times. My fighters on the surface have orders to kill anyone not wearing our colors.”
“Thank you." Rhonda bowed slightly as she took the silky armbands.
Under Princess Zarah’s gaze, Rhonda tied one armband to Cole’s arm, then handed the other to him and offered her arm.
Cole obliged her and tied it on tight. Something still bothered him in Rhonda’s comments. Had she said flaws? Cole always tried to be perfect, to do the right thing, but hell, it hadn’t been easy of late. He’d have to ask her what she considered his flaws.
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