by J Palliser
Was that only last night? Time and place had become dislocated for him. He tried to look around, but he no longer had the energy to do even that. As another jolt of pain hit him, he had a moment of clarity and memories flooded back to him. That's right, they've got me strapped down. I'm in the interrogation room.
He could feel where the straps had cut into his wrists and ankles, how the one across his bare chest was so tight that it made it hard to breathe. Rivulets of sweat trickled down his face to sting his eyes. Although he couldn't remember most of it, he assumed he had been there for some time. I don't remember them asking any questions. I wonder what I've told them? Have I betrayed my friends? Have I broken my oath to the Reich?
Stars and comets up on high, gently light the night time sky...
He grimaced as the fire started in his belly and spread in every direction, to his fingertips, to the soles of his bare feet. He banged his head on the back of the chair over and over again, trying to fight it. He gritted his teeth in an effort not to cry out, but the pain forced a strangled cry from him.
Hush, my darling; rest your head, snuggled safely in your bed...
The sound of his suffering brought a smile to Tanweer's lips. "You are to be congratulated, Commander. We've been at this for nearly fourteen hours. By now, the average pilot would be begging to tell me everything he knew."
He clenched his jaw, drawing on reserves of strength he didn't even know he had, just to be able to speak. "Knight Squadron doesn't... ungh... take the average pilot."
"My, my! Arrogance!" She applauded sarcastically. "You are a challenge." She motioned to a technician out of his view with a casual flick of her fingers. The technician complied and raised the pain intensity level. Aiden's back arched as pain pulsed through his body, stealing his breath and numbing his mind.
Mommy loves her little boy, Daddy's pride and mother's joy...
Another groan escaped from him, but it quickly turned into a scream that ripped at his parched throat. After a few endless minutes, the pain began to subside.
"Mmmm... Mom?"
Again, Tanweer smiled. "I've always been fascinated by the fact that men will call for their mothers in situations like this, when their weakness takes hold. Like pathetic children." She leaned closer to Aiden and shook him so that he would look at her. His brown eyes opened and locked on to her. "Tell me, Commander, do you suppose that my sons were so weak that at the moment of their deaths, they called for me?"
Aiden struggled to concentrate on the right words. To his dismay, he discovered that he'd almost forgotten how to speak. He struggled to get his traitorous tongue to cooperate. "I... I hope so."
"What? Why would you hope so?" The surprise in her voice was obvious, but there was also an underlying tone of anger at the suggestion of weakness in her sons.
"B-because, if they did... it would mean... th-that... they loved you enough... to call for you... when they hurt... or were af-afraid, and really needed your comforting." He sagged back into the chair, the effort of his answer having exhausted him. His head lolled to one side, sweat sticking his hair to his face.
She stared at him, taken aback by his words. Finally she spoke, leaning close to his ear to whisper. "Eloquently put, Commander Hunt. But, since I was unable to comfort them at that moment, the least I can do is punish the man who murdered them." She turned to the technician again.
Agony pulsed through Aiden's body in waves, drowning him. He wanted so much not to give her the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, especially since that seemed to be what she wanted the most. He couldn't remember her having asked him any questions. She just seemed to want to make him suffer.
And suffering he was. He wasn't sure how they were doing it, but one minute his body burned, the next there was intense cold, like the frozen vacuum of space. At first it had been bearable, the concoction that Hashir had given him seeming to dull the pain. But that had worn off hours before. Again and again the pain came. There never seemed to be an end to it. Always the pain...
So I'll hold my young one near, to keep you safe from hurt and fear...
His mother's voice came through the haze, wrapping him in the same comfort that it always had, and for a moment, even the sound of his own screams couldn't drown it out.
***
Off-duty and dressed in civilian clothes, Tahir Hashir looked like any one of the hundreds of other crewmen making their way through the crowded streets of Jamara, the capitol city of Artemis III. Carrying Aiden's small duffle bag over one shoulder, he turned down a small side street. He had a definite destination and purpose in mind, and it was one that he still wasn't sure why he'd chosen.
He had been up most of the night, sitting in his small room in the Prefect's palace. He couldn't have slept anyway, knowing what they were probably going to do to Hunt. Hashir had never met anyone like him before, either during his time as a doctor in the Catalonia Colony or after he had joined the Empire. And the effect that the pilot was having on him disturbed him.
When he allowed himself to think about it, Hashir knew he had serious doubts about his role in the Khawarij Navy. He had been a healer for most of his life, and now all he did was to help destroy life. Now meeting and getting to know Hunt had only reinforced his reservations.
So he made a decision and then acted on it. In the three years that he had served aboard the Abraxas, he had heard some rumors about an underground rebellion on Artemis III. Nothing substantial, but enough to convince him that maybe it did exist. Although he had never before thought of contacting them, he had managed, by spending some credits here and there, to find out where to go to get some information to them. He knew it would be difficult to get them to believe him, but he had to try.
Coming to the end of another dingy side street, Hashir spotted the place he'd been looking for. He stepped over to the alley on the left of the building, and hid his bag behind a refuse container. He then approached the entrance to the Watering Hole.
It was a typical spaceport cantina. The atmosphere was smoky and humid, with customers from every corner of the galaxy filling the small cantina with the sights, smells, and sounds peculiar to their home worlds. Although Hashir had never been in this particular cantina before, it had a familiar feel for him, since he'd been in others just like it. On how many worlds, and how many times before? He had lost track.
He entered the cantina and worked his way through the mass of bodies, shouldering up to the bar in between a huge, dark, and bearded human male, and a shorter Arcadian male. The place was busy enough that it took the bartender a few minutes to notice him.
"What'll it be?" The auburn haired woman smiled pleasantly.
"A Manns ale... and maybe some information?" He scolded himself for the nervousness he was feeling. He had never done this kind of thing before and he felt extremely unsure of himself.
The bartender looked at him and then looked around apprehensively. "Look, we got liquor, we got food, and we got pleasure rooms upstairs, but information is too dangerous to deal in." She turned aside, and in a moment, handed Hashir his mug of brown ale.
Hashir dropped some credits on the bar for the drink. When the bartender reached for the money, he stayed her hand, slipping some more credits under her palm as he did. Without missing a beat, the money disappeared under the bar and the woman smiled. "What kind of information?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
"I need to find some of the local rebel underground. And don't bother denying that they're here." Hashir kept his voice low. "I happen to know better."
"I could do that, but I'm afraid I can't help you. They don't trust me. I doubt that I could get them to tell me what time it is, much less how to get in touch with them. Sorry." She turned and started to move on to another customer, but he took hold of her wrist.
"Look, it's really important. It could mean a man's life."
The woman studied him then shook her head. "Can't help you."
Hashir thumped his fist on the bar in frustration. "Listen to me. I
know that they're active on this planet, and this cantina is one of their contact points. I just can't afford to attract too much attention about this." She managed to free herself from his grip and walked away. He continued to drink his ale in silence for a few minutes, and then turned to go. Although go where, he wasn't sure.
He made his way back outside and looked around. He spotted a darkened corner where he could watch the bar without being seen and headed in that direction. But he didn't get very far. Suddenly the two customers he'd stood between at the bar flanked him on both sides.
"Hey, pal. Wait for us." The big human draped a friendly arm over his shoulder, and before Hashir could react, he felt something hard being pressed against his side. There was a sharp pain in his rib cage, accompanied by a tell-tail blue flash. He had never been hit with a weapon on stun before, and he wished that he had avoided the experience a little longer.
As every nerve in his body fired at once, he felt brief pain, then numbness. He remained conscious just long enough to know that maybe this time he had gotten into something that he shouldn't have. Darkness nibbled at the edge of his sight, and his last thought was of Aiden, and who would be left to help either of them.
17
XVI
Once again on the bridge of the Abraxas, Admiral Samra paced the walkway overlooking the crew pit. He wasn't in the best of moods and every one of the bridge crew did their best to avoid drawing his attention.
Tanweer had been devoting all of her attention to Hunt for the last day or more, excluding all else. Excluding me! Samra looked closely at the reflection of himself in the transparency of the window. Tall and lean, with jet black hair and dark, intense eyes, he was considered handsome by many women. But he knew that time was catching up with him. Already in his forty-second year, he noticed that lines had begun to appear around his eyes, and a hint of gray was beginning to creep into his hair. And that hurt his vanity.
Technically, he was in command of his own Destroyer, as well as Khawarij ground forces of the planet Artemis III. But the entire system was under the control of Prefect Natal Tanweer and she often took great pleasure in overruling him. Although he was her personal adviser, he was more commonly known as her lover, and that didn't mean much in the eyes of those who held power in the Empire.
Tanweer herself was a woman who was attracted by strength and power. He was beginning to fear that if he continued to show his age and could not prove his value, she would find that she no longer had any use for him and would discard him on a whim.
And now he had Hunt to contend with. He had seen Tanweer's obvious attraction to him and now she was wasting prolonged amounts of time on him. He knew that she would kill him sooner or later, but was afraid that her lust for him would make it all too clear that she needed someone younger than Samra. And he hated himself for feeling threatened by Hunt.
The communications officer, despite his fear of intruding on Samra's thoughts, spoke up. "Admiral, there is an incoming message from the planet. From Prefect Tanweer."
He smiled. It was about time that she returned her attention to him. "Put it through to my command chair, Ensign."
"Yes, sir."
Samra made his way to his seat of command, which sat at the far end of the bridge. He sat just as the small hologram of Tanweer appeared. "Omar, I have some news from Thula. It appears that Knight Squadron has been there looking for clues to the location of their missing Commander. Now they are searching for him near the region where we ambushed him. I want you to take the Abraxas and destroy them once and for all. I will not have them stumble across our location and spoil the ceremony."
"It will be a pleasure, your Excellency. Do we know what kind of support they have?"
"From what I've been able to learn from our contact there, there are only the twelve assorted Valkyries and one Maxim class shuttle. There was also some mention of an aging freighter belonging to a smuggler. I am sure that will not cause you any problems, will it?"
"Of course not, your Excellency. We will be under way within the hour."
"Do not fail me, Omar." A tone of pure malevolence radiated through her voice. "I will be very unhappy should they survive."
"I understand. We will be victorious. Today Knight Squadron's legendary luck is about to run out."
***
Hashir opened his eyes and closed them immediately. A bright light was aimed directly at his face and blinded him momentarily. His eyes began to water and he blinked the tears away. He slowly opened his eyes again, taking care to look down as he did, and they slowly adjusted to the glare.
Wherever he was, the rest of the room was in complete darkness. He sat in a heavy wooden chair, his hands and feet bound tightly to the arms and legs. The room was very quiet, but he sensed others nearby.
A woman's voice came out of the dark, from behind him, and startled him enough to make him jump. "All right. Who are you, and what was is it you wanted to see us about?"
"I'm Lieutenant Tahir Hashir from the Abraxas, and I've got some information you might be interested in."
"Oh, really. What kind of information?" Her voice was making its way around the room, to a point where she must have been standing somewhere in front of him.
"About a prisoner that Prefect Tanweer is holding. A Luftwaffe prisoner."
"I'll just bet. And while we're having this little chat, how many of your buddies are moving into position to try and take us down?"
"I came alone. I don't think that Tanweer or Samra even know about your being on the planet. I only found out by knowing who to ask, and I haven't told anyone."
"And why would you do that?" A deeper, male voice rumbled the question. It sounded like the voice of the big man who had stunned him in the street. "You're a loyal Khawarij, a son of the Empire."
"Let's just say I was keeping an option open." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. As much as he could, anyway.
"Okay. Let's just say that. And let's pretend that we believe you. Now, who is this prisoner we'll be so interested in?"
"Aiden Hunt."
There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a long silence. Then he heard the two voices conferring softly. Although he was unable to make out all of the words, he got the gist of their conversation.
"... didn't know he was missing," he heard the woman's voice say.
"... have to check on it," the man replied.
"Have to save... can't let them..."
"... how you feel... can't... involved... orders..."
"... have to... chance."
There was another moment of silence before the woman returned her attention to Hashir. "They've got Hunt, huh? I know Aiden Hunt, I've flown with him." A short pause. "Prove it."
Hashir tried to look out beyond the circle of light in which he sat, but couldn't make anything out. "Behind the trash bin outside the cantina I was in, there's a bag. The proof is in there." He heard a murmur and a shuffle of feet somewhere beyond the woman's voice. He guessed she had sent someone out for the bag.
"While we wait for your proof, I want some more details," the woman demanded. "Like why you came here? He's just one more piece of 'Reich scum' to your kind. Why'd you bother?" The woman's voice was hard, daring him to lie to her.
"I'm not really sure why. And even if I could explain it to you, I'm sure you wouldn't believe me." He sighed. "It's just... lately I've found it harder and harder to justify what the Empire orders me to do. The only things they recognize are cruelty and brutality. When they captured Hunt, and after being around him, I realized that he stands for everything that the Empire isn't. It's... he's..."
"Honorable," the woman said quietly.
"Yeah." He turned the word over in his mind. "That's it. He's honorable. He's the first really honorable man I've come across in a long time. Knowing what Tanweer and Samra have planned for him turned my stomach. That's why I'm here."