by Tess Mallory
Eagle fought down the fear welling up inside him as the man called Kell began attaching a conglomeration of wires and tubes to his flesh. Suctionized ends clung with deceptive lightness to his head, chest, stomach, groin, and legs. He tensed as the man raised a hypodermic needle and flicked his fingers against the clear tube. Eagle ran his tongue across his lips as he noted that the needle was connected to the machine standing next to the table on which he lay.
The helplessness hit him all at once, spread through his veins with a shuddering flow he could not prevent.
How would it work? Would drugs be injected into his system to help the process? The hypodermic seemed to be connected to the machine—was that in order to monitor the dosage? He had been trained on the machines on Station One, but this one was different. The one on the station hadn't used needles and, in fact, the hypodermics were an archaic holdover from a bygone era. No one used them anymore. Was there some reason they were necessary for the new mind-probing device, or was it just his father's way of adding more terror to an already horrific device? Eagle closed his eyes against the thought. He wouldn't think about his father's political tactics to keep power, not now.
The blue-skinned man reached behind the apparatus at that moment and took something out from the back of the cylindrical machine. A mind-probe helmet. That he knew from Station One. The man approached him.
"Damn," Eagle whispered as he felt the helmet slide over his head and face. Plunged into darkness, a terrible panic seized him. He tried to subdue it, used every relaxation technique he knew, to no avail. Sweat poured suddenly from his pores and his heart began to pound.
"Is he ready?"
The woman's voice, clear and cold, pierced the stillness beneath Eagle's helmet and he felt hatred—dark and overwhelming—roll over him. When he escaped from these pirates, he would make this woman pay for the violations of his body and mind.
"Why haven't you injected him yet?"
He stiffened at the words and awaited the answer, holding his breath, willing his heart to stop beating so loudly.
"I thought you would want to do the honors yourself," he heard the blue man answer. "After all, Captain, this is your affair."
"Damn you to Aldeburon."
Eagle heard the woman's words and felt a brief moment of hope. She had expected her subordinate to do her dirty work and apparently the man objected. Perhaps for all her bravado she was a little squeamish when it came to torturing prisoners herself. Immediately a coldness settled in his chest. A woman as tough as she had to be to lead these renegades would not hesitate over something so minor as inserting a needle into a prisoner's arm.
"I told you to hook him up," the woman was saying, her voice tense.
"This is a very sensitive procedure," the man answered. "It requires a delicate touch. I thought you would be better suited to make the insertion. Besides, then if anything goes wrong and he dies, I would not be blamed."
Eagle couldn't help but be impressed at the sound of the varied and creative curses—in various languages—the woman was hurling at the blue officer. She had quite a vocabulary. He sobered as she finished her tirade and with one last curse, made her decision.
"P'fagh! Very well. Give it to me."
Eagle stiffened again as the helmet was wrenched from his head and he found himself staring into the furious eyes of his captor.
"You can avoid this, you know," she said, her voice harsh. "Just tell us where the child has been taken and you won't have to have your mind scrambled."
He pressed his lips together and raised both brows, then shook his head slightly. "The truth is I don't know where she's been taken."
"Liar. Who took her?"
"I don't know." He didn't know why he should protect Telles, but he'd be damned if he was giving this scum any information. "I thought he was with you."
She muttered a curse that had been banned on two planets that he knew of and turned away. Once again he was taken aback by her tenacity. If he had met her under any other circumstances, he would have sized her up as some government official's daughter bent on making her mark in society. Her poise, her arrogance, the way she carried herself, all pointed to wealth and a classy upbringing. Yet, if you looked more closely, you could see the power hiding inside this woman. Her arms beneath her sleek blue uniform were muscular, taut biceps denoting a warrior's strength. True, her woman's form was amply displayed by the V-neck of the garment, her breasts straining against the material as she moved around him. But she was no woman. She was a soldier cast in a woman's body.
She moved like a bauthah cat, with a slow sensuality that in no way disguised the capability lurking just under the skin. She was a paradox. Her beauty was breathtaking, her body incredible, her ruthlessness unmistakable. Still… what in the universe was she doing out here commanding this ragtag bunch of renegades instead of being home with some rich husband, or raking in a pile of credits on some pleasure planet? She turned back to him and all curiosity vanished as his gaze locked on the hypodermic needle in her hand.
"It is unfortunate you won't cooperate," she said, and for a moment Eagle thought he saw a flash of real regret in her eyes. "We don't like to use the ways of the Kalimar, but—"
"But you will," Eagle interrupted. "It's amazing to me how people always seem to decry the tactics of those they hate, until they need to use those same tactics themselves."
"Shut up." Her eyes narrowed and what little compassion he thought he saw mirrored there disappeared as she held the needle aloft. "If I were you, I'd think again about telling us the truth. This is a new experimental mind-probe stolen from one of Zarn's own laboratories. The drug of choice is injected directly into the brain of the subject and the needle left connected throughout the probe. I'm sure it is quite painful, and since we are novices at the actual implementation of the procedure, it is possible we may leave your mind less than whole when we've finished extracting the information we need."
Eagle felt the rage rush over him with the force of an ocean's wave at her unemotional recounting of what was about to take place. He strained against the invisible straps holding him, his fists clenched, his face distorted as he tried in vain to wrench himself free.
"Are you out of your mind?" he said, desperation forcing him to play his trump card. He hated to use his relationship to his father, but there seemed to be no other way to reach these people. "Do you realize what Zarn will do to you if you harm his son?"
A smirk touched the woman's lips and her turquoise eyes turned liquid with feigned seduction. One hand lifted to stroke the side of his face and he glared at her.
"Yes, little space-boy, we know who your big bad daddy is." She leaned closer, her lips scant inches from his. "And we don't give a damn." She jerked back, as if getting too close to him would taint her. She turned to the blue-haired man. "Kell, have you programmed the probe correctly?"
He nodded, his face implacable. "As correctly as I am able, considering I have not been trained to—"
"All right, let's get started. Try to remain still, if you value your mind."
Her hand moved toward him again, this time to press flat against his brow as she used the other hand to hold the needle against his temple. Sweat broke out across his upper lip and across his forehead and drenched his back suddenly beneath him. He ran his tongue across his lips and tasted the salt. He closed his eyes, praying he would not cry out or give these villains any show of weakness. He could feel her fingers moving across his head, as if measuring to find the exact spot for the penetration to take place. Eagle could feel the heat of his body preparing for flight and his pulse was a drum in his head, drowning out the quiet conversation between the woman and her subordinate.
All at once he was no longer in the cargo bay. He was somewhere else entirely. It was a small room, a claustrophobic room filled with equipment and two men. He was small. Or was it that the chair was large? A helmet was being placed on his head and a buzzing began as soon as it connected with his scalp and one of the men flippe
d a switch beside him. Something else was being placed on his skin at different intervals, little round suctions. They sucked against his pulse points and he began to shake violently.
It was his dream. Ever since Telles's death he'd been plagued with nightmares, nightmares whose details he could never quite grasp, never quite remember. Now he remembered.
"It's all right," a soothing voice said in the back of his memory. "Everything will be all right."
Then blackness, emptiness, a horrible spinning void. Then the same voice again.
"What name do you choose for yourself? What name do you choose?"
"I will administer a numbing shot first," a different voice said, piercing suddenly through the words echoing inside his brain.
Eagle opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd had them closed. He stared around the room feeling disoriented, confused. Had she just asked him something about his name? "What?" he said through dry lips. "What did you say?"
She gazed down at him stonily. "Although you don't deserve to be spared any pain, it is hard to insert the probe needle into someone twisting and writhing in agony. This will sedate you somewhat."
Eagle tensed. He didn't know what had just happened to him, but it had to have something to do with the mind-probing. Now she would sedate him and he didn't want to be out of control. The thought of her poking around in his brain was bad enough, but to do it while he was unconscious made his throat tighten with a new fear.
"I don't need your numbing drugs," he said suddenly, jerking away from her touch. "I am the son of Zarn! Your petty attempts to probe my mind will be useless. Don't you realize that I am a superior being, you air-headed bitch?" Rage blossomed briefly on her face and Eagle swallowed hard.
"Very well, traugh'fak," she cursed at him, "I shall honor that superiority—which I call stupidity—by allowing you to feel the needle pierce your skull and sink into your brain. I look forward to seeing how the great son of Zarn reacts to something that would bring any mortal man to his knees."
"Bring it on, baby," he said recklessly, refusing to take his eyes from hers. "Do your worst."
Her full lips curved up in satisfaction even as a flicker of uncertainty hovered about her eyes. "I intend to."
"Captain—" the man called Kell moved to stand at her side—"I do not think you should use the probe without the anesthetic. It may help to further break down his resistance, and think on it—why would any sane man try to provoke you into denying it to him?"
She nodded and put the large needle down, reaching across his trapped body for something else, her body pressing briefly against his. Eagle saw the woman was sweating too, beads of perspiration glistening on her jawline and across the hollow of her throat. One droplet trickled down the front of her neck, touched the hollow, then moved downward toward the crevice between her breasts. Desire, swift and unexpected, coursed through Eagle's blood and his eyes widened. He was shocked at himself and angry with his body's ridiculous timing.
The brief, crazy surge from his libido died as she held up another hypodermic, this one a modem hypo-spray. She pressed it against his neck and a soft release of air surged out, bringing with it a gentle languor that began to permeate his senses. He fought against it but his natural defenses fell, leaving him helpless. He drifted on a hazy cloud somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, trying to prepare himself for the violation of his mind. Instead, he heard someone screaming. For one groggy moment he thought he had screamed, but it was a woman's cry, wrenched from her soul.
Somehow Eagle dragged his eyelids open, and through a mist, looked up to see his captor standing with both hands pressed to her head, her eyes squeezed shut, her breath coming rapidly as she stumbled against the table on which he lay.
"No!" she screamed, twisting her head from side to side. Her fingers clenched the silver band around her forehead and she seemed to be trying to shove the metallic object more firmly against her brow. "Get out! Get out! I—" She stopped struggling abruptly, her eyes growing wide and round as her movements froze. She collapsed across Eagle, her head turned sideways on his chest, her eyes wide open, staring, unresponsive. She needed help. Eagle tried to move, tried to reach her, but even as he remembered in some still coherent part of his mind that he was shackled and this woman was his enemy, the haze intensified, darkened, and sucked him down.
Chapter Three
Sky found herself suddenly standing in an empty place shrouded with mist. Vast horizons stretched around her and for a moment she could not get her bearings. Where was she? She frowned, trying to remember what had happened. She had been in the cargo hold, about to use the mind-probe on the prisoner when someone had entered her mind, entered swiftly, unexpectedly, circumventing not only the power of the band, but her own mental defenses. She had tried to shore them up and that effort had sent her spinning inward, into her own mind. Now she recognized this place. It was her battle zone, the place she came within her mind when she had to fight against intruders. The emptiness was her own creation. It gave her plenty of room to move about and made anyone approaching an easy target.
And now someone was coming. Sky schooled herself to remain calm. It had been so long since she'd had to fight. The silver deflector had kept her safe for so long. Had it finally failed her? Through the mist a distant figure moved steadily toward her. Sky summoned her strength and shielded herself enough for protection, yet not so much that the intruder would be banished. She wanted to know who had dared to violate her mind. If it was Zarn's son…
But no, it was a small form coming nearer—small and slim. Sky caught her breath as the mist cleared and the person was exposed. Mayla. It was Mayla, her little sister, her almost-child. Sky gazed in wonder at the girl approaching. Lavender, almond-shaped eyes stared back at her; soft, silver-blond hair curled around her thin, oval face. And her aura—there was no mistaking her mental aura, the inimitable mental signature, emanating from her. "Sky—" she called softly, lifting one hand and reaching it toward her. "I haven't much time. You must listen to me."
"Mayla!" She couldn't help the shout, nor the quick mental steps forward. How long had it been since she'd seen her, held her in her arms? Three months? Four? Time had meshed together in her frantic search throughout the galaxy. "Where are you? Help me find you! Are you all right?"
"I haven't much time."
Sky took another step forward and stopped. Mayla's figure was wavering, growing hazier by the second. This was not right. When two minds came together, there was as much solidity as in the outer realm of reality. Sky reached out to touch her sister and her hand passed through her.
"Mayla—what's wrong? Where are you?"
It was as though Mayla couldn't hear her. Sky closed her eyes and concentrated, dropping what few natural shields she possessed and calling upon every ounce of strength she had. When she opened her eyes again, Mayla's image was a little stronger, but her voice had grown somehow weaker.
"Listen to me, Sky. This man called Eagle, you must not use the mind-probe upon him. He is not our enemy. He will help you find me if you give him the chance. Do you hear me, my sister?"
Sky was dumbstruck by Mayla's words and it took a second before she could respond.
"Sky—do you hear me?"
"Yes, Mayla, I hear you, but you don't know this man. He's evil—he's Zarn's son! If I don't probe his mind, how will I find you?"
"He doesn't know where I am."
"Do you know where you are?"
The image faltered again.
"I cannot maintain our connection. Good-bye my sister, I will contact you again if I am permitted." "Permitted? Is someone keeping you from—Mayla—Mayla, don't go!"
But it was too late. The small form was wavering again and this time dissipated as though a soft brush had been washed over her. Her sister was gone, leaving Sky with new questions and new fears.
Skyra groaned as consciousness returned. A thousand Dendarian dreamdrums pounded inside her skull and a haze filtered across her line of vision. She blinked, cle
aring the last vestiges of confusion away in time to bring Kell's concerned face into focus. She was in sickbay, lying on the small table where battle wounds were tended.
"Are you all right?" His pale azure hand smoothed a lock of hair back from her face. "You've been unconscious for an hour."
"No, not unconscious," she murmured.
"What in the world happened? Did your shielding fail? Did you experience a barrage?"
Sky tried to shake her head but the effort sent a sharp stab of pain through her temples. A "barrage" was a term used by telepaths to describe the sensation of many mental voices invading a mind simultaneously. She lifted her hand to the silver band.
"No," she said, amazed to hear her voice come out in a weak whisper. "It was Mayla."
Kell blinked twice, then regained his former composure. "Your sister? She contacted you mentally? But how? The band is designed to keep any thoughts from yours, even that of telepaths."
"Mayla is not your average telepath." She smiled, the image of her sister rising unbidden in her mind. "Her power—" she broke off, her face flushed. She had almost revealed to Kell the vast extent of Mayla's abilities. As much as she trusted her second-in-command, that was something she could never tell him or anyone else. If Zarn ever found out the power Mayla actually possessed, killing her would be considered humane compared to what he would likely try to do. She had no doubts that he would attempt somehow to use her for his own evil purposes. Sky tried to sit up. "I'm fine, really I am. Where is the prisoner?"