by Brian Dorsey
“Sir,” added the master sergeant. He was a massive man. His uniform, much better looking, stretched at the shoulders and sleeves from the bulk of his muscles.
“Colonel, Master Sergeant,” replied Stone.
“Surprised to hear we were to be visited by a flag officer,” said the colonel as he extended a handshake to Stone. “We don’t get many uninvited visitors to Capro. I have sent word to High Command regarding your arrival but they take their time to decode our message bursts. We’re pretty much a graveyard out here. As far as High Command is concerned, our reports usually go to the bottom of the stack.”
This was what Stone had hoped for.
“I am here to see a Terillian Scout Ranger officer,” said Stone. “She may have information vital to an upcoming operation.”
“She…” smiled the colonel. “He must be talking about our newest guest.”
As he spoke he looked back toward the master sergeant, who returned a demented smile.
“She is something else,” added the master sergeant. “Stubborn…but nice to look at, or at least she was.”
Stone had to control himself. He was in no position to make a scene. “Yes, that sounds like her. I would like to see her.”
“I’m sure we can make those arrangements for someone of your stature,” replied the colonel as he turned toward his companion. “Master Sergeant,” said the colonel, “have our guest brought to interrogation room 1.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, and freshen her up a bit first,” he said with another cold smirk on his face. “So, General,” he said returning his attention to Stone, “shall we have a drink while our prisoner is being made presentable?”
“I really am in a hurry, Colonel.”
“You may call me Brutacus if you like. My master sergeant’s name is Victor. We really don’t place too much stock on ceremony out here. It’s not like our careers are in jeopardy…where else are they going to send us? Come on, how about that drink? You can tell me how things are going outside this cage.”
“Sorry, Colonel,” replied Stone, “but I must insist on seeing the prisoner as soon as possible.”
“If you insist, General,” snapped the colonel obviously insulted by Stone’s response. “I will take you to the prisoner now.”
***
The interrogation room was cold and bare; Stone could see his breath as he paced across the small room, waiting for Mori. As Stone paced, Colonel Brutacus sat in the corner leaning his chair against the wall and sipping on a flask he had pulled from the inside pocket of his wrinkled uniform.
The door on the opposite side of the room swung open and in stepped the massive master sergeant, followed by two guards dragging a limp body with them.
Stone was horrified. It was Mori, but a hollow, broken version of the woman he had known only weeks ago. Her head was shaved and she wore a grungy half-shirt with a soiled blanket remnant tied around her waist. Her body was covered with bruises and dried blood was crusted on the corner of her mouth.
“As requested, General,” laughed the master sergeant as the two men dropped Mori into the chair in center of the room. Too weak to hold herself up, Mori immediately collapsed onto the floor.
Stone quickly kneeled down by her side. Partially opening her eyes, she tried to mumble something to him but did not have the strength.
“Not quite the same wildcat she was when she got here,” said Victor. “In the first few days, she put four of my guards and two prisoners in the infirmary. We had to, uh, tame her a bit.”
“What have you done with her?” asked Stone, although he dreaded the answer.
“Just the usual for her type,” answered the colonel as he stood from his chair. “A few medications and some quality time with our guards seemed to take the bite out of her. To make sure she’d learned her lesson, we put her in the non-military prisoner bay for a night. After that she didn’t fight the meds anymore.”
“You threw her in with rapists and murders!” yelled Stone on the verge of losing control.
“What does it matter? She’s just a piece of Terillian trash anyway,” answered Brutacus suspiciously. “What exactly do you need to know from this prisoner, General?”
Stone quickly gathered his thoughts. “I told you, Colonel. I need information she may have relating to an upcoming mission. She is useless to me in this state. I will have to take her back with me.”
Stone noticed a disapproving glance on the master sergeant’s face as he looked toward the colonel and shook his head.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Sir. Even you don’t have the authority—”
“The authority!” Stone was taking a huge chance. “You fat, insignificant fool. I am General Lucius, my fiancé is the lady Astra Varus, and I have recently obtained all property of the Tacitus patriarch through proporia combata. You asked earlier what else could be done to you. I will tell you, Colonel. I do not believe you have been isolated on this hole long enough to forget the influence of the Lucius and Varus families. I can have you transferred under my command where I will make sure you see more Terillians than you care to.” He let the threat sink in. “I will take this prisoner with me.”
The colonel’s face grew flushed and he took a quick breath. Although the colonel was an evil, heartless man, Stone knew he also understood he would be a lot safer in seclusion on Capro than in combat.
“If it is that important to the Republic and the Xen Empire, I guess we could forego the usual paperwork,” conceded the colonel.
Stone’s gamble had worked.
“I want anti-meds administered to revive her and have her brought to my ship in twenty minutes,” ordered Stone.
Brutacus alternated his glances from Stone to Victor as he thought over his options. After an awkward silence he spoke. “Victor, let’s get the general’s prisoner ready for transport. He is in a hurry.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” said Stone. “I will make sure High Command hears of the good work you are doing here. Perhaps there is an administrative role on Alpha Humana that could use your talents.”
Brutacus’s scowl was replaced by a thin smile as he contemplated his possible reprieve from Capro that didn’t involve actual combat. “Thank you, General. That would be very much appreciated.”
***
Stone leaned cross-armed against the falcon as he anxiously waited for Mori. Choosing to wait outside instead of answering questions he did not want to answer from the pilot and navigator, he looked across the vacant hangar bay.
The more he examined the hangar, the level of neglect became apparent. The wiring in the hangar was in horrible condition. Frayed cords and loose connections were everywhere. On the forward bulkhead he noticed a slight charring, probably the site of past fire. Stone also sensed a slight hint of sulfur in the air. Looking down at his feet, he saw sulfur residue scattered across the deck. The dusting of tiny yellow particles around the ship indicated the inefficiency of the wash down system at the hangar entrance. In the distance, he could hear the drip drip of a leak. Not only was the prison remote and desolate, it was run-down.
The door to the hangar bay opened and Brutacus, with Victor by his side, strode into the bay. Following them were two guards with Mori. The sedatives were starting to wear off as she was at least walking with the aid of the guards. She was shackled at the ankles, the chain running in front of her body and around her waist. The handcuffs were attached to the waist chain, which in turn led to one of the guards’ hands. Although slightly more coherent, she still looked beaten and disheveled. Stone walked toward the group, meeting them halfway across the hangar.
“Here she is, all wrapped and ready to go,” said Brutacus.
“Thank you, Colonel,” he replied as he took the chain from the guard’s hand.
Stone felt resistance as Victor placed his hand around the waist chain. “Just a minute, Sir. You need to sign for your prisoner and her escorts.”
“Escorts? What are you talking about?”
“
Even though we can bend the rules for flag officers, we can’t break them, now can we?” answered Victor with a callous smile. “After you sign for her, she will need to be escorted by myself and one of our guards until she is checked into another military facility. That way we can ensure proper delivery.”
“I don’t require any assistance in the transport, Sergeant Major, but thank you anyway.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, General,” interrupted Brutacus. “I must insist on these measures. I am willing to turn her over to you, but my men will escort her. I have my superiors as well, General.”
Stone, maintaining his grip on the chain, inhaled a deep breath. “Well then, I guess I need to sign for her.”
Victor reached the electronic DNA signature pen to Stone. Stone, still holding the chain, took the pen and injected the sharp end into his forearm. Returning a cold smile to Victor, he tossed the pen in Brutacus’s direction.
“Is there anything else, Colonel?” said Stone, removing Victor’s hand from the waist chain.
“No, Sir. I hope you enjoyed your visit to our little oasis. And I look forward to possible openings on Alpha Humana.”
He said nothing to Brutacus. Taking Mori by the arm, he led her to the ship.
At the entrance, he stopped to let Victor and the other guards enter the falcon. Victor paused at the hatch. Taking a long deliberate look up and down Mori’s body, Victor turned back to Stone with a wicked smile on his face. “If you need any help interrogating this one, I can give you some pointers.” With a laugh, he entered the ship.
Stone looked to Mori. Still affected by the drugs, her face was vacant of emotion.
His grief for her was overwhelming.
Putting his free hand on the back of her neck, he felt a slight shiver go over her body. He leaned in to her. “I am so sorry this happened. I will get you out of this.”
Mori slowly looked up toward Stone, struggling. Her green eyes no longer sparkled.
He placed his forehead against her bald head briefly. “I’m sorry.” Quickly releasing his light embrace, he helped her into the ship. Stone then made his way to the cockpit.
“Sir, do you have a jump location for us?” asked the navigator.
Stone had thought about this question since he left Pantelus Varuk on his rescue mission. The independent moon Port Royal was their best chance. When the first Terillian war started, it was converted into a hardened military base. Several operations against the facility by the Xen military had failed to take the little moon. Undefeated in war, Port Royal eventually succumbed to the Peace Accords. As with all other known fortifications, it was abandoned by the Terillians as part of the agreements that created the Neutral Quadrant. Almost before the last Terillian warship left the moon, scores of opportunists swarmed to Port Royal.
The founders of the enterprise became known as the Association. They established a corporate-like ruling body for Port Royal. Driven solely by profit, all forms of trade were permitted in the city. To control this “sin city,” the Association employed an impressive army of ex-soldiers, mercenaries, and former slavers. In fact, the Association created a military presence formidable enough to give any attacking force fits; both the Terillians and Xen left them alone. The for-profit city was open to all as long as the entry fee was paid. If Stone could make it to Port Royal, he and Mori could fade into the crowd long enough for him to figure out what to do next.
“Oscar system,” he replied.
The navigator looked puzzled.
“Oscar, Sir?” he asked. “That’s in the Dar—”
“I know where it is, Lieutenant,” interrupted Stone.
“Aye, Sir,” replied the navigator.
***
“Oscar,” said the pilot to the navigator after Stone left the cockpit. “What the hell is he doing?”
“Beats me,” replied the navigator, “but I stopped trying to understand flag officers and First Families in general a long time ago. If he wants to go to Oscar system then that’s where we’re going.”
“First Family bullshit again,” mumbled the pilot as he commenced his preflight checks.
***
As the falcon made its way to Port Royal, Stone sat across from a semiconscious Mori, trying to plan his next move.
On his left sat Victor. Beads of sweat rolled down his bald head as his shirt sleeves strained against the pressure of his bulging arms. The other guard, a scraggly looking man called Nicholi, sat next to Mori. Nicholi sat with his arm resting on the back of the chair behind Mori’s head; he stared at her as if she were a meal he was about to devour.
“Can we adjust the environmentals in this sauna,” asked Victor, rubbing the sweat from his head and wiping his hands dry on his pants.
Stone did not reply. Looking across at Mori, he was heartbroken. He could see burn marks on her arms and what looked like ligature marks around her neck. Her left eye was blackened and the entire right side of her head was a dull shade of purple. Although she was starting to regain her senses, her body had been broken. Stone knew her physical wounds would heal, but was not so sure about her emotional scars.
“Looks like the little bitch is coming out of it,” said Nicholi as he ran his hand over her bald head.
“Not quite the same as when she came in, is she?” laughed Victor. Wiping a new accumulation of sweat from his head, he reached over to Mori’s cheek. His sweat-drenched hand palmed her jaw as he gave a slight squeeze. “We just had to teach it some manners. Didn’t we, you little whore?”
Mori’s eyes turned to Stone. A tear fell down her cheek as a glimpse of the old determination returned to her eyes. As Victor squeezed her jaw, she mouthed something to Stone.
“What’s that, honey?” asked Victor as he leaned in closer to her. When he was close enough, she sprung forward, catching Victor’s nose in her mouth and biting hard. As Mori made her move Stone pounced on Nicholi, plunging his knife into the guard’s chest.
Victor let out a scream as he brought both hands around Mori’s neck. He stood up and lifted Mori, still locked onto his nose, off the ground. When he stood, he opened his abdomen up to Stone’s knife.
As Stone’s blade sunk into his stomach, Victor let out another yell and tossed Mori free of his face. She bounced against the wall and fell to the deck dazed. Rising to her hands and knees, she spit a mouthful of Victor’s blood and the tip of his nose onto the floor. Victor fell backward on the seat, Stone’s knife embedded in his abdomen and blood pouring from his mutilated nose.
“You traitorous bastard,” grunted Victor through the pain. “I’m going to take you apart and then finish off that bitch.”
He rose from the seat, drawing his pistol.
Mori, recovering from her jolt, snatched the baton from Nicholi’s body. Victor’s weapon fell to the ground as the baton slammed against his wrist. Another blow to his chin took Victor down to his knees and Mori’s foot against his jaw laid him flat.
Suddenly, Stone felt a presence behind him. Drawing his pistol, he spun around to the find the navigator standing before him.
“What the hell is going on, General?” he asked.
A deafening roar jolted Stone as the navigator fell to the ground, struck by gunfire. Stone again spun around to see Mori move past him, pistol in hand. She moved mechanically past Stone to the navigator, who was writhing in pain on the deck.
She fired two more shots into the man as Stone watched, frozen, as she turned back toward her former captors.
Victor had removed Stone’s knife from his belly and was pushing himself off the deck. “You bitch!” he yelled as he pulled himself erect.
He fell to the ground again as a shot from Mori disintegrated his left knee. This time he did not have a chance to recover.
“Tell me how this feels, sweetheart,” said Mori coldly as she pressed the barrel of the pistol against Victor’s forehead and fired.
Standing over Victor’s body, she raised the pistol again, taking aim at his lifeless body. Another shot rang out, then
another, and another. Finally, the clicking of the empty pistol stopped her. Throwing the pistol on the ground, she turned toward Stone.
For an awkward moment they both froze. He could only look into her eyes and hope there was still something left. Stone extended his arms.
Time stopped.
Finally she moved to him, collapsing in his arms, exhausted from her efforts.
“I am sorry, so sorry. I did not know they had captured you. I…”
“You came for me,” she mumbled.
“Of course,” he replied as he gently placed his hand over her bruised cheek.
He felt her legs start to give out again. Supporting her as she collapsed, he helped her into the seat.
‘Sepria, come in. What is going on back there?’ came across the ship’s intercom.
Now Stone had to deal with the pilot.
Moving toward the front of the spacecraft, Stone opened the door to the cockpit.
“General, what’s going on back there? I heard gunfire. Where’s Lieutenant Sepria?”
“I’m sorry you had to get involved in this,” said Stone as he placed his pistol to the pilot’s temple.
“Sir?” asked the confused pilot.
“Just complete the jump to Port Royal and once I disembark you will be free to go.”
“What about Sepria?”
“He’s dead, Lieutenant.”
“What! I don’t understand. Why did—”
“Lieutenant,” interrupted Stone pressing the barrel into the pilot’s temple, “just make the damn jump.”
The pilot looked coldly at Stone, straining against the pressure of the pistol pressed into his head. “You will be crucified for this.”
“Maybe. But if you want to live, get this ship to Port Royal.”
Chapter 14
The flashing blue light brought the falcon out of the jump. Outside of the cockpit, the massive planet Oscar 1 lay dead ahead. As the ship moved closer a tiny moon came into view. Closer still, and Stone could begin to make out dozens of craft moving all directions. Two of the craft moved quickly toward the falcon, taking up positions on both flanks.
