NOT PEACE BUT A SWORD – ACT II

 

“This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”

                                                                                                            --Winston Churchill

 

            Chan Lee howled the song of his clan every morning. Since he came to this planet prison, it became part of Habor’s daily ritual. The songs of the changelings were an aspect of garou life he had never bothered with before; until he had no one to sing them to.  Suddenly, they were a balm of relief in his wretched existence.

            The desert/swamp landscape didn’t even bother to have a name, much like any worthless piece of real estate, it only had an antiseptic locator: G2 Prime. The air stank with methane, the white dwarf sun was dim, and the daily temperature varied between sunburn and frostbite. The only sustenance was swamp rat, a weed called nehm, and the usual supply of stale emergency food packets that had been sent here far past their expiration date. Swamp rat, at least, had some decent gravy to fry the puffed celery-like nehm in.

            Here there were no guards, no stockade, not even a prison collar around his neck. The second they removed the collar, they pushed him out the shuttle door twenty meters from the planet’s surface and let him bleed on the harsh rocks below. But I didn’t die; no, I didn’t die.  Lee didn’t even die from the Endari weed that cured the cancer of Netter’s Syndrome inside him. The poison wracked his body every day for an hour, but he ate it, for he would live. He would live to kill every one of those who had hurt him; those who had denied his birthright as a prince of the Middle Kingdom. He would carve their names into rocks with his claws, just to make sure he didn’t forget.  Hate is what kept Lee alive.

            The social calendar of G2 helped him keep his anger burning inside him.  Every week or so, when he had finished eating his share of emergency food packs, Habor had to return to the Box.  Much like the planet, they didn’t bother naming the only building on it. The Box was the old prison, before they realized they didn’t have to leave any guards to keep people here. The hyperspace distortion zone prevented standard ships from entering the system, the string of defense satellites prevented those that did without clearance, and simply trying to find anyone on this forsaken rock was difficult enough.  More likely your ship would get jumped by the first group of prisoners and then you would be left here instead.

            The Box is where the official government ship hovered over for a minute every week, dropped enough food packets for everyone on planet, and then scuttled back out of orbit.  It was a maze of black stone walls, covered in thick vines and fruit trees that grew out of walls, much like a disturbed biology experiment. The fruit was always eaten raw yearly, by those prisoners inventive enough to get to it first.

            Since the food packets were dropped from high altitude, they were scattered all over the Box, so to get your share became free entertainment for the prisoner community.  It turned out to be a free-form fight through the mazes.  After a while, it became predictable with the regulars. Everyone knew who could beat who, and as long as the weaker dropped the proper amount of packs in front of the stronger, the weaker survived.  Chan was the one of the stronger; the only one he dared not face was an old TI corporal – not because he was tougher, but because he didn’t play by the rules.  He was a berserker, and by prison protocol, you left the crazies alone, because you never knew what they’d do next.

            Though on occasion, like today with the mage with the shaggy hair in front of him, you’d get fresh fish, new prisoners who didn’t understand the game, and fought to the death.  Shaggy fired a lightning bolt at him as he turned a corner, luckily he flipped back before impact, leaving a nice char mark on the ground.  “Back off, ju tou!” he barked around the corner, shifting into gabbro form.

            “Give me all ya got, chuin-zi, or I’ll turn your fur to silver!”

            Habor extended his claws and climbed the sides of the walls, find the higher ground to attack from.  A deeper voice returned the insult.  “Ni shi bai chi! Just ‘cause you’re a mage, don’t make you top sch here!”

            “Why don’t you step out and we’ll see!”
            Gods, Chan thought, what an idiot. Broadcast your location for everyone to know where the fresh fish was. He won’t live long.

            “Hey, fur ball, why don’t I give you a quick bath!” Shaggy threw a ball of water that splashed over the char mark.

            Meanwhile, Lee had gotten to the top of the wall.  He saw that new mage just standing there, waiting for Chan to step out to face him.  One jump, Habor knew, would end it.  Then he heard the thunder in the sky; it only meant one thing: incoming shuttle.

            The supply shuttle was predictable as the Middle Kingdom itself; it only came once a week and never landed, just dropped off the packs from a hundred meters in the air.  To have another one meant a new prisoner was being dropped off.  As amusing as this psychotic mage was, he found the shuttle much more amusing; besides, he wasn’t in the mood to kill idiots.

            Habor ran across the tops of the walls, noticing other prisoners doing the same.  He noticed them, kept his distance, and kept running towards the sound.  Soon enough, Chan found a safe place to crouch and watch the incoming shuttle, hidden between some rubble of one of the old guard towers and an overactive vine.  The spacecraft made its appearance, punching through the thick cloud cover of the early morning hours.  Yeah, it looks like the government shuttle, Lee mentally nodded, and continued to watch it through his one eye.  Instead of hovering over the rocks of sharp rubble that used to be the warden’s house, it actually moved towards the landing pad.

            The disgraced prince stayed still, restraining the urge to rush after the shuttle.  No one landed here, his mind screamed, and those who did ended up dead or prisoners themselves. Chan knew he had to watch; see what happened.

            As soon as it landed, the expected prisoners raced towards it, hoping to overwhelm the guards and take over before the fools knew what happened to them.  However, the shuttle was prepared, opening him its chemical lasers, spraying the would-be attackers with plasma fire.  The prisoners died in agony but more soon followed, trying to inch their way through the rubble in order to reach the door.  Lee knew it didn’t matter; desperate men would eventually overcome that ship’s defenses.  Then he heard the sound.

            It was high-pitched, beyond what normal humans could hear, but to Habor’s ears, it was music to his soul.  The sound was the song of his clan; my clan has come to take me home!  Lee broke from his hiding spot and answered with the refrain.  Chan knew it was foolish to expose himself, but this was his chance to go home!

            The prince immediately had to run.  Lightning bolts and fireballs immediately descended on his former location, blowing it to atoms.  Already, desperate prisoners made their way up the walls towards him.  Chan shifted into crinos form and kept running, puffing as his continued to sing, hoping that shuttle would see where the sound was coming from.

            Soon the Box was alight with arcane fire and Lee decided it was time to make a run for the shuttle.  He jumped down three stories to the ground below, rolled with the fall, and kept running, trying not to notice the menacing shapes that were converging on all sides.  The shuttle’s cannon turret turned towards him and fired.  Chan closed his eyes for a second, and when they were opened again, the plasma was firing to each side of him, slaughtering those who would destroy him.  They do recognize me!  His heart fluttered with excitement and he came closer to the shuttle door.  Sure enough, it opened, and Lee barreled inside.  As soon as he was in, they closed the door, and the prince could feel the buzzing of the floor plates and the whirr of liftoff.  He was so elated as he knew he was finally leaving G2.  He shifted back to human form and finally noticed the smiling faces of his clan, garou who had come all the way from R34, cheering around him.

            Crescent Moon, his blood brother, stepped forward and lifted him off the deck. “Welcome back to the living, Habor.”

            “I don’t understand. How did you find me?”

            “They broadcast it all over the Kingdom. ‘Criminal prince sent to G2.’ You made the headlines; hell, you bumped down Volkskrieg Overdrive’s lip-synching scandal!”

            “Well, that’s a relief.” Lee laughed… and laughed, as it had been the first time he felt like laughing in… a month? A year? Chan didn’t know how long he had been on that hellhole.  Soon, his clan was laughing with him, howling with delight, and embracing him in their arms.  When they finally settled down, Lee turned back to his brother and asked, “Wait a minute, how did you leave R34 in the first place?”

            “We got there somehow, Habor,” Crescent Moon laughed, “and we hid the ships we traveled in.  Luckily, Night Fang somehow fixed the damn things, and we made our way back to normal space.  I asked for 12 volunteers and got them easily.  Then we hijacked the spare government shuttle, that luckily had the right codes and engine, and got you out.”

            “Wait… wait…” Lee was suspicious; they smelled like his clan, but the facts didn’t work out. “You don’t watch the news, how did you know I needed help?”
            “Your songs.”

            “My songs?”

            “You sang to the clan every day, we heard it in our dreams.”

            “You heard my songs? In your dreams?!”

            “The umbra knows no bounds of hyperspace or planet, brother.  We were tortured by your loneliness and had to release you.”

            Habor sighed and nodded his head. “I’m grateful. Grateful beyond all measure.”

            “So you should!  We risked our hides for you, fur ball!” Crescent Moon said, laughter dancing in his eyes. “So will you come home with us and dance the victory cant with us?”

            “I wish I could, my friend, but…” 

            “Don’t say it. The heart-hunger still burns within you, yes?”

            Lee nodded.

            “I understand.  Remember that you always have a home, young pup, and we want you there.”  Moon shook his hair for a moment and then sighed. “Where do you want to go, Habor?”
            “Wilke’s Star.”

 

* * *

 

            Usha Myanmar pulled a silk bathrobe over her barely-there lingerie, then yanked a bottle of sake from its hiding place beneath the pillow and slammed back a shot.  She’d need it to make it through this night – just like every night since… since Cho was disowned by the Tanzhi.

            The bedroom door slammed open before she could hide the bottle.  Madam Shinaki of the Hello Kitty Club glared at her… then at the bottle.  “Another unhappy customer!” her strained voice said with forced politeness.  “We had to refund the money… again!  And the same complaint – you just lie there and wait for it to be over!”

            Usha threw back another shot of sake defiantly.  The burn of alcohol covered that filthy, salty taste…  “Well, what the sch do you expect?!” Usha shot back.  “I’ve been running a smuggler ship for the last two years, not riding cock!  I’m out of practice!  Under Cho I was – “

            “Cho is dead to the family!” Madam Shinaki shot back, “Nothing will change that!  Oyabun Tanzhi has seen fit to send you back here because he knows you’re worth more on your back than in a ship!  Anyone can captain that boat, but you can turn a thousand crowns a client – or used to – do the math, girl!”

Usha said nothing.  Shinaki was right, of course… for all that Usha wanted to think mere yakuza sexism was responsible for purging the only woman captain from authority, she knew it was really simple economics.  For that wrinkled old bastard Toku, money was all that mattered. 

 “Girls work their bagina off to get a room here in the Hello Kitty,” The Madam continued, “because here they’re looked after, paid well, and safe.  Our clients are screened, tested, and pay handsomely, and in exchange they want the best - not some arrogant whore with sake breath!”  Usha said nothing. She threw back another shot.  “Frankly,” the Madam continued, “I don’t care where you turn your tricks… but unless you meet our standards, it won’t be here!  You’re free to find a street corner – and you know the clientele you’ll find there!”  Shinaki could tell from Usha’s eyes she knew only too well. 

            Usha put the bottle to her lips and chugged.  She was trapped.  Yeah, she could run, but where would she go?  The yakuza would hunt her down for her desertion.  If she managed to flee beyond their reach on backwater planets, what would she do but start over again - on her back?

            “Alright, whatever,” Usha muttered.  “I’ll try harder.”  Madam Shinaki held out her hand, and Usha reluctantly handed over the bottle.  “Just gimme a little time – it’s been a while…”

            “I’m afraid you don’t have a little time,” the Madam said curtly.  “A new client just arrived -- who paid extremely well – and asked for you specifically.  Act well, and these… incidents… will be forgotten.  Behave poorly… and the oyabun will hear of it.” The Madam said sternly.

            Usha sighed.  “Oh, alright…” she said miserably as she untied her bathrobe, baring her golden brown skin.  She thrust her breasts forward, cocked her hips, and put on her best fake smile.  “Send him in - I await his pleasure!” she said in the most cheerful voice she could muster.

            Shinaki nodded approvingly, then opened the door.  “Sai Moon? Usha awaits you!”

            Wait… Moon? Usha thought,  It couldn’t be –

            Nhut walked through the door.  “Hey, baby!  I’ve been waitin’ a long time for this…”

            “You!?” Usha gasped.  “Wha – what the sch are you doing here, Nhut!?”

            “Whadaya think?”  Nhut said, gyrating his hips obscenely with a crooked grin.  “Getting’ a little Maylay Muff, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

            “You… you asshole!!”  Usha yelled - to Madam Shinaki’s horror – and instinctively snaped her bathrobe closed.  “You think that just because I’m… that I’m…”

            “For sale?”  Nhut leered.  “That’s exactly what I think!  C’mon, Usha, you know you want a little wu jen wang, don’t ya?” he grabbed himself.  “I’m payin’ you to say ‘yes’, baby…”

            “She’s just joking!” Shinaki assured Nhut with a fake laugh, “Such a little clown!”  Her eyes looked daggers at Usha. “She’ll be happy to please you… for the sake of her family…”

            “NO!” Usha said, furious.  “Not him!  He’s an old… co-worker!”

“Aw, c’mon, Uhsa!” Nhut said, “I know you wanna be with me alone…”

            “Usha,” Shinaki said softly, “you know the consequences of refusing a client…”

            “Yeah, an’ I don’t care!”  Usha shot back.  Maybe it was just too much sake… but she had drawn her line in the sand.  She still had her pride… even if that was all she had.  ”NOT him!”

            “I’ll pay double!” Nhut offered, “C’mon, let’s just have a little private time, Usha…”

            Usha still didn’t get it.  “Not willingly, you ji bai!” she said, and Shinaki winced.  “You’ll have to force me, and you know you can’t take me without help!  Or is what you want?” she asked.  “A dozen bouncers to hold me down while you… while you do your…“ she couldn’t finish.

“Well, not with bouncers in the room, no,” Nhut said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. 

“So you gonna call the bouncers?” Usha asked Shinaki, “Or kick his scrawny ass out?”

Usha knew that wasn’t the image she wanted associated with the Hello Kitty.  “I’m terribly sorry, sai,” the Madam said to Nhut, “but such a thing is against out policies.  We have many other girls who would be happy to please you, if you’d care to look…?”

“I thought this might happen…” Nhut sighed.  The clown façade dropped, and for a second Nhut Moon didn’t look cocky or comical … just tired.  He pulled a crown note from his pocket.  “A hundred crowns… just for a kiss?”  He tossed the note at the Madam, not waiting for an answer, and while Shinaki clutched at the flying money, Nhut jumped forward, pulled Usha tight, and stuck his tongue down her throat.  For a split second Usha was too drunk to react.  Then, halfway thru the kiss, her eyes, burning with fury, switched to a look of surprise and confusion.  The second she began to struggle, Nhut pulled away, wiping his mouth.  Instantly Usha slapped him… but it seemed only a half-hearted gesture. 

The Madam looked horrified.  “I’m sorry, sai!” she cried, “Surely we can find another girl–“

“Nah, she was the one I wanted,” Nhut said with a shrug.  “I guess a kiss’ll have to do.  Where’s the door again?” with that he turned and left.  Shinaki turned to Usha, eyes burning with the fury of lost revenue.  “The oyabun will hear of this!” she snapped.  “I suggest you pack your bags!”  Usha said nothing, merely nodded obediently.  The Madam swept from the room.

The instant the door closed, Usha reached into her mouth and pulled out the piece of paper Nhut has passed to her in the kiss.  The words were few – but enough to give her hope.

Want out?

Honshu Park

24:00

 

            Hours after being thrown out of the Hello Kitty, Usha walked through Honshu park in the cold moonless night, one hand gripping a knapsack slung over her shoulder, the other clutching a pistol in her pocket.  She didn’t know exactly where to meet Nhut (if it was Nhut waiting for her – in her line of work, you could never be certain), but she headed toward the sound of a rhythmic squeaking, the only sign of life in the deserted patch of sickly grass and trees that passed for a New Tokyo park.  The sound led her to the children’s playground, where she found Nhut playing on a rusty, squeaking swing set.  For a thief, he wasn’t terribly subtle.

            “Man, I haven’t been on a swing in years!”  he said flying back and forth.  “I forgot how much fun it is!  You really should try it, Usha!”

            Usha didn’t move.  Nor was she amused.  “Well, I’m here.  What do you want, Nhut?”

            “Well, it’s more about what you want,” he said, scraping his feet loudly on the gravel to stop his swinging.  “And how badly you want it.”

            “Just tell me the deal, Nhut,” Usha said irritably, “I’m not in the mood to be fucked with.”

            “No, I guess you’ve had too much of that recently,” Nhut agreed as he came to a stop.  “I wasn’t sure if you’d show.  Gald you did, though…”  He looked around quickly.  “You alone?” he asked.  Usha nodded.  “Were you followed?”

“I don’t think so…”

Nhut looked around again, his shifty eyes peering into the shadows, then nodded, apparently satisfied.  He lowered his voice.  “How would you like command of your ship back?”

            “In exchange for what?” Usha said guardedly, careful not to answer his question.

            “Taking orders from a new boss,” Nhut shrugged, “at least for a while.  Play chauffer for a few weeks.  Then go back to work for yakuza-Tanzhi – as a smuggler, not a whore.”

            “If it sounds too good to be true,” Usha answered sarcastically, “It is.  What’s the catch?”

            “There’s some risk involved,” Nhut nodded.  “Would you rather go back to the brothel?”

            Usha considered that.  “Alright, I’m listening,” she said finally.  “Who’s the new boss?”

            “Meet the new boss,” Nhut chuckled, pointing at Usha with a grin, “same as the old boss!”

            Usha’s brow furrowed.  Me?  I’m the new boss?  Then it dawned on her with a chill - Nhut was pointing at someone behind her…  Usha whipped the pistol out and spun around in time to see a tall scrawny woman reaching for Usha’s face – a woman with glowing blood-red eyes.  Fear gripped her – but before she could react, Cho’s cold fingers gripperd her face on the acupressure points and dug deep.  Another hand grabbed her gun arm and yanked it back, the pistol discharging harmlessly into the grass.  “Zhan shi… bu ke… gao ren…” Cho grunted, her face twisted with effort as she physically and mentally fought her way into Usha’s head.

Usha fought like a wildcat - but Nhut quickly wrenched the gun from her hand.  Someone else seized her from behind and held her still.  She quit struggling and desperately threw up every mental barrier she knew instead, forcing Cho to fight for every secret she pried from Usha’s brain.  You yakuza bastards have taken my body, she mentally screamed, but – golrammit - you will NOT rape my mind too!!  Usha put up a valiant struggle … but it was a losing battle.  Cho was just too powerful.  An eternity later Cho released her, and Usha slumped to the ground.  The red glow in Cho’s eyes dimmed and disappeared.

“You… chronic… bitch!” Usha moaned in a voice barely above a whisper.

She heard the whir of a plasma revolver close by.  “Well?” Nhut asked.

“She’s clean,” Cho grunted.  “She don’t like me much… but she didn’t betray me.”

“Are you alright, Usha?” a high, cheerful voice said as someone rubbed her back reassuringly.  “Don’t worry, the headache will go away soon.  Cho did it to me, too.”

Usha peered up at the fat form the voice belonged to.  “Yoko?” She pushed Yoko’s arm away.  “What the pi khu is going on!?” she demanded angrily.  “What the sch do you want, Cho!?”

“Your help,” Cho answered.

“You got a funny way of asking for it!” Usha shot back.

Cho spread her arms.  “Someone betrayed me.  I had to make sure it wasn’t you.”

“No one betrayed you, you stupid chronic junkie!” Usha spat angrily.  “You overdosed!”

“Someone poisoned me, actually.  And I got the proof right here,” Cho patted her pocket. 

“It’s true!” Yoko chirped.  “I scanned her bowl – I don’t know what, but there’s some kind of chemical in there besides opium!”

“What I don’t know is who, or why,” Cho said, “I need to figure that out before I go to the oyabun.  For that, I need to travel.  And for that, I need you.”

Usha rose to her knees. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” she asked cynically.

“Not really, no,” Cho answered, crouching down to stare Usha in the eye.  “But what I do expect is that you’re sick of turning tricks.  Am I right?”  Usha didn’t answer.  “What I expect,” Cho continued, “is you want to be back in command of my ship-“

“My ship!” Usha snapped.

            “I bought it!  I own it!” Cho returned. 

“You may own it, but I run the damn thing!”

In the background, Nhut rolled his eyes.  He and Yoko had heard this argument a hundred times.  “Knock it off, for the love of Buddha!” he barked, “We haven’t got time for this!”

            After an uncomfortable silence, Cho continued.  “Point is, I didn’t have a ship two years ago.  I only sunk my life savings into a golram starship because of you.  Did you know that?”  Usha said nothing. “And not just so you’d be my student,” Cho continued, “I wanted to get you out of that whorehouse.  You were a high-priced geisha back then… not bad for a gaijin commoner… but I could still tell you didn’t like sucking cock any more than I d--” Cho stopped suddenly.

            Usha looked confused.  “You were a-“

            “Shutup, Usha!” Cho snapped fiercely… and Usha had the wisdom to stay quiet.  “The only reason you ran that ship was because I begged, bribed, and fought to make you the captain!“  Cho pushed on.  “Shatei hate taking orders from girls.  And when the Tanzhi disowned me… well, they sent you back to the Hello Kitty, didn’t they?  You see where I’m goin’ with this?”

            Usha was silent… but she saw.  She saw only too well.

            “The only way you’re getting’ that ship back is if I’m back in the Tanzhi to make it happen!” Cho said firmly…and Usha knew it was true.  “You don’t have to help me, Usha,” Cho continued. “If you say no, I’ll wipe this meeting from your memory and never bother you again.  But I don’t think you want to go back to being a whore… do you?” 

            “No,” Usha shook her head slowly.  “I don’t.”

            “So here’s the deal,” Cho said, rising to her feet.  “I need you to be a captain again.  To fly the Teppodama wherever I need to go to prove my innocence and save face.  When I clear my name – and it’s a matter of when, Usha, not if – you can bet your brown ass you won’t be goin’ back to no whorehouse!”  Cho said firmly.  “So what’s your answer?”

            Usha stood up slowly.  Not a bad deal, considering her alternatives… but…  “I see one snag in your… brilliant plan,” Usha said sarcastically.  “When you were disowned, the yakuza took your ship.  How are you going to make me captain of a ship you no longer technically own?”

            “Fer the love a Buddha,” Cho muttered, shaking her head, annoyed.  “We’re criminals, Usha!  We’ll hijack the damn thing!”

            “Well… alright, then,” Usha nodded, glancing over the trio, “I’m in.  On one condition.”

            “What’s that?” Cho asked eagerly.

            Usha pulled her fist back, swung, and punched Cho as hard as she could.  Cho’s head snapped to the side.  “That’s for the mind-rape, you bitch!!”

            ”… oh fuck…” Nhut muttered.  Yoko whimpered and stepped back… waiting.

            Usha also waited, body tense, ready for the counterattack.  Cho breathed heavily and her face turned red.  Her fists clenched and released again and again.  Slowly, not looking at them, Cho pulled out a pack of Nirvanas and lit one.  She sucked down the weed.  Exhaled.  “Okay...” she said finally, her voice strained.  “Okay.  Maybe I deserved that.  For the mind-rape.  Like you said.”  Cho took another deep drag and breathed out.  Finally she turned back to them.  “It’s a small price to pay to bring you on board, anyway,” she nodded.  “But the next time!” Cho said fiercely, sticking a finger in Usha’s face.  “Next time, bitch… I hit back! Dong ma?”

            For a second, Usha was silent.  Then… “Hai, sensei.”

            Cho nodded and grunted in satisfaction.  “Welcome back, Uhsa,” she said, then spun around and took off through the pale grass.  “You bitches comin’ or not?”

            First Yoko, then Nhut turned to follow her.  Usha watched them go.  She didn’t trust Cho.  Not one bit.  Still… she looked down at her bruised knuckles.  She didn’t hit back. Usha rubbed her sore fist.  Maybe… maybe she’s changed… and then Usha, too, followed across the grass.

            The coven was almost complete.  One more to go…but he would be the hardest to turn.

 

* * *

 

James didn’t know what time it was.  Odd that he should think of that first, considering he also didn’t know where he was or what he was doing there, the time seemed like it should be the least of his worries.  But nevertheless, it was the time that bothered him.

Some people had the ability to judge the passage of time without a watch.  James couldn’t, whether he’d been here for a few minutes or a few hours was a mystery.  He didn’t think that he’d been here for more than a day, but he couldn’t be positive of that feeling either.  He supposed he’d been asleep for a while, since he could distinctly recall waking up here, but how long he’d been out was even less of a certainty.  Realizing that he was getting nowhere, James put the thoughts out of his mind, which took considerable effort.

“Here” was a cell.  Or at least James assumed it was a cell, he supposed it could be any small, bare room; and it was definitely being used to confine and contain him, so “cell” was as good a word as any.  The cell was made of metal, about four by three meters in area with a low ceiling.  There was a foam and plastic mat in one corner that James was painfully aware he had not been sleeping on before he woke up.  Along one of the walls was a bowl-and-drain fixture that James assumed was a toilet and had been using as such.  The cell was unlit and he’d found no way to turn on any lights.

He was thirsty, but his hunger wasn’t too great, which he also took to mean that he hadn’t been here for too long, though thinking about this made him wish for food more.  As far as he’d been able to discover, there was no way for him to obtain food or water.

The “door” to the cell was located on the opposite wall from his toilet, he thought it was a door because of the rectangular indention into the wall, where a door would presumably slide away; it was wide enough to allow two people to fit easily through the hypothetical opening.

They had taken his clothes.  He was dressed in a slightly too small pair of boxer shorts and a thin cotton shirt, neither his own.  Without shoes his feet became cold quickly.  James stopped the pacing he’d been doing and returned to the less-than-adequate mat to curl up.

 

After shooting the Page, the spy from the Senatorial Police, the Horadrim had arrested James and his entire crew.  He remembered being clubbed by one of the humanoid soldiers.  James reached to his head, there was no sign of a bruise, so he’d either been unconscious for a long time, or they’d put him in an autodoc.

After they’d been marched into the strange interior of the Horadrim shuttle, the transport had unclamped from the Resolve and jetted toward the big destroyer it came from.  During the flight, James had stared in horror as he watched energy beams from the Destroyer lance out and cut his already derelict ship to shreds.

 

…and then he was here.  The cell didn’t seem like the strange semi-biological surfaces of a Horadrim vessel.  He figured that the Horadrim, not wanting to deal with a conscious human cargo had simply drugged him and the others until they could be transferred to a Middle Kingdom transport.  He couldn’t be sure, but cell just didn’t feel like a ground-based chamber either, so James guessed that he was still on a human-made prison ship.

Maybe they were taking him to G2.  He’d been threatened with such a fate several times in his life, but had never taken the suggestions seriously.  Now, he thought he was going to be sick to his stomach.

He wondered what happened to the rest of the people on the Resolve.  They’d all been on the shuttle, but were they still with him?  Was Major Shrak in a similar cell right on the other side of one of these walls?  James tried pounding on the metal, but the act only produced a dull thud, the walls were thicker than he’d thought.

            Concluding that he didn’t know anything, and wasn’t about to figure anything out either, James tucked his chin to his knees and tried to sleep.

 

            The door shot open, and light flooded the small chamber.  James’s eyes were dazzled and he shut them tightly against the brightness.  Fighting the pain, James forced his eyelids open slightly to find out what was happening.  He couldn’t see anything beyond the threshold, but a shadow was standing in the center of the doorway, James presumed it was a person.

            “M. Welthammer, are you enjoying your trip?”

            James had heard the voice before, but he couldn’t place it.

            The shadow pulled a stool from somewhere outside the door and sat down.  “Quite a coincidence that we should meet again like this, don’t you think?  You seem more subdued than last time, however.”

            The spots finally cleared from James’s vision and he could see the man sitting in front of him.  The black-haired man was horribly thin and pale.  He smirked at James’s recognition.

            James unrolled himself.  “Oh, greetings Major.  I don’t believe I got your name during our previous conversation.”

            “You may address me as Major Deveraux.”

            “Of course.  And where is your lovely assistant today?”

            “Major Shon is currently arranging your final transfer planetside.”

            James stood up.  “I see.  Well, it was a pleasure making your acquaintance Major, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going.”  James walked for the still open door.

            “M. Welthammer, I do not believe you want to give me the pleasure of tearing you limb from limb.”

            James made a swift about-face, “I bet it’s boring out there anyway.”  Instead he walked to what had become visibly a toilet and urinated.

            Deveraux seemed unfazed when James turned to face him again.

            James frowned, and realized he was being forced to make the first move, “Yes, Major?”

            The vampire Imp smiled, he produced a datapad from his robes, “Did you know, M. Welthammer, that in the space of two weeks, the list of offenses on your criminal record has more than doubled?”

            “I wasn’t aware that I had committed any offenses.”

            Deveraux snorted, “Oh yes, you’re quite a hot item in law enforcement these days.  Let’s see: theft of Middle Kingdom property, resisting arrest, smuggling, resisting arrest again, murder, grand theft of an Imperial Security spacecraft, treason,” the Imp looked up at James for a moment, “tsk tsk, M. Welthammer.  Another count of resisting arrest, attempted murder—“

            “Attempted murder?”  James interrupted.

            Deveraux ignored him, “—transporting a wanted criminal, trespassing, leaving Middle Kingdom space as a fugitive, espionage, treason again, and a final count of resisting arrest.”

            The Imp put the datapad away.  “Quite a development in your file, if I do say so.”

            “All right, I demand a lawyer.”

            “Request denied.  This isn’t an interrogation, and you couldn’t afford a lawyer anyway!”

            “The hell I can’t!  I’ve got—“

            “M. Welhammer, all of your financial assets have been seized and frozen pending the results of your trial.”

            James worked his jaw for a moment before speaking again, “If this isn’t an interrogation then what do you want?”

            “I’m to offer you a final chance.  If you choose to cooperate and help us to locate the so-called ‘resistance’ soldiers you have been aiding for the past two years, we will consider lightening your sentence.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            The Imp stood up abruptly, “I figured as much.  Enjoy the remaining hours of your life M. Welthammer.”  He picked up the stool and walked briskly out of the cell.  The door snapped shut and James was enveloped in darkness again.

            James lay back down, bewildered.  Shrak and the soldiers had been captured by the Horadrim along with everyone else on the Resolve.  What the hell was going on?

 

            James’s question still hadn’t been answered several days later.  They’d transferred him planetside to a larger, lit, fungicrete cell much like the one he’d occupied on New Madrid.  But now they told him he was only a few kilometers from the Imperial Palace on Wilke’s Star.

            The Lao Ts’e Prison Complex was not a pleasant place to stay.  James was on the seventh floor, the especially nasty ward where the Middle Kingdom housed murderers, rapists, and political activists.  There were rumors about an even worse eighth floor of the prison, and the guards would threaten particularly unruly prisoners with reassignment.  But no one seemed to know what they did to prisoners up there, or what exactly it took to be assigned there.  Everyone except James, that was.  He had counted the floors before they took him inside.  There was no eighth floor.

            Ordinarily, James would have been amused at the psychological weapon the guards used to control their prisoners.  But shortly after his arrival, the guards had actually taken someone to the eighth floor, and he’d never come back.

            His usually bright personality was subdued, it was best not to get noticed around here, you didn’t want to make “friends” with too many of the others.  The three other people in his cell were okay, however.  None of them were too bright, but they weren’t out to kill James either, so he counted himself lucky.  They played cards for the cheap cigarettes the prisoners could get from the scant prison “store”.  It was both this sole source of entertainment and the stress he was under that led James to take up the habit again, it helped him to relax.  And, he told himself, it was only until he got out.

            He’d been in the complex for just over a week when the guards came to take him away.  James stubbed out the last of the previous day’s winnings.

            “Ah, are they finally going to let me use the comm facility?”

            “Prisoner Welthammer, you are to report to the Palace of Justice for your trial.  Come with us.”  The warden addressed him coldly, while a couple of his thugs brandished their electric clubs.

            James stood, “Trial, eh?  Isn’t this few couple years too early for that?”  More than half of the other prisoners in the ward had been awaiting trial for over twelve months.

            The warden didn’t bother to respond, he turned and the pair of ruffians flanked James, leading him out of the cell, and then out of the ward altogether.

            Down an elevator, out of the fungicrete building, and into an armored aircar sitting inside the razor wire surrounding the outdoor complex, the Warden expressed no emotion as the door shut on Welthammer, and he was alone again in the back of the aircar, the partition between his compartment and the driver’s was completely blocked off.

            He felt the aircar hum and lift off; James lay back on the seat and tried to nap.

 

* * *

 

            Captain Weathers’ captured Imperial Destroyer entered the Sinkiang system.  A noticeable chill swept through the bridge crew.  Even Captain Weathers felt his heart beat faster as the sensor data poured onto the main tactical display – the sheer number of ships was terrifying.  A full task force of warships guarded the jump gates – most blockading the Chapman’s Folly gates, of course, but there were plenty left to intercept any ship trying to flee.  The overwhelming volume of civilian traffic was also alarming – harmless themselves, but every pair of eyes increased the chances of someone noticing something amiss with their destroyer– and it only took a single shuttle to raise the alarm. 

One thing was clear: if their ruse failed, they wouldn’t be able to fight their way out.

            Port Authority computers quizzed them for identification, itinerary, and flight path.  Communications Officer Aurelius responded with stolen codes and forged data.  Their ship would have been recognized as captured or destroyed, so Weathers had chosen to impersonate another Daikyu-class destroyer that – to the best of their knowledge – was on a long-range, deep-space patrol.  With luck, no one could tell the difference between the two ships.  Thankfully, the Port Authority computers apparently couldn’t, and quickly cleared them for transit.  Weathers relaxed a little. 

Weathers set a course for the communication node, then turned to Jyong, the self-appointed telecommunications specialist responsible for spreading their message across the galaxy.  She was egotistical, bossy, and extremely annoying – but on one doubeted her brilliance.

 “M. Guo?”

“Eh?” the wheelchair-bound “scientist” looked up, peering at him through thick lenses.

“When we tap into the node, what exactly do you need to do? Tell me in layman’s terms.”

“Well, first hack the administrator account,” she said, dropping her datapad and ticking things off on her fingers, “then locate and access the Emergency Broadcast Override protocols, and finally adjust the distribution algorithm to the Middle Kingdom’s telecommunications network.”

If that’s laymen’s terms, David wondered, what qualifies as “technical”?

“And how long do you need for all that?”  Weathers asked.

The scientist just shrugged. “Depends on how good the security is.  As long as it takes.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.  “You sure you can do it this?” he asked doubtfully.

“Of course!” she snapped, offended.  “I’m the best damn network administrator the Middle Kingdom’s they’ve ever seen!  And if ability counted more than blood, I’d be running my own node by now!  But NOOOO, I’m a mandarin cripple, so I’m not even eligible, and –“

“Alright, alright,” Weathers cut her off.  He’d heard that particular rant before – many times.  ”Helm, set a course for the Khymer gate – take us past the communications array.”

As they approached, Aurelius requested permission from the satellite staff to open a secured channel to Wilke’s Star.  The node staff - an actual person this time - asked for their clearance codes.  Aurelius use Beatrix’s code for the Imperial Regulators… and waited.  Weathers held his breath.  If Cynthia had betrayed them, the whole plan would have to be called off… and we might not make it out of here.  After a short pause (which felt like an eternity) the node staff informed them, in a supremely bored voice, that a secure broadcast channel had been opened for them, and made routine inquiries about destination, frequency, and whatnot.  Weathers let Lieutenant Aurelius do the talking – he could speak any Middle Kingdom language flawlessly with no trace of accent - except, oddly, Horadrim, where his British accent leaked through (and David still didn’t know how that was possible).

            “Alright, M. Guo,“ Weathers said to Jyong with a nod, “That’s as far as we can get legitimately.  The rest is up to you.  Be quick.”

            Jyong rolled up to the comm station, clamped her wheelchair to the console, studied the display intently, opened several programs and began to type.  Minutes ticked by in silence.

            The node staff hailed them.  ”No-Dachi, we can tell you’re trying to gain root access.  You’re not authorized for that level of security.  Please explain.”

            Weathers motioned to mute the audio feed.  “What’s your status?” he asked Jyong.

            “Still trying the access the administrator account…” Jyong answered, almost absently.

            Not good.  At all.  He nodded to Aurelius.  “Give them the story.”

            “We’ve got an Imperial Regulator on board,” Aurelius answered in perfect pi-yin, with just the right amount of uninterested irritation.  “She’s claims she’s got a message for Emperor Rao.”

            There was only a slight pause.  “Imperial Regulators aren’t authorized for root access to an imperial communication node,” the node staffed answered.  “Please tell her – respectfully – that she’ll have to use the designated Regulator channel.”

            “We… uh… don’t have authority over Imperial Regulators,” Aurelius answered with a hint of embarrassment.  “I can tell her… but I don’t think she’ll listen…”  Weathers nodded in approval.

            There was a confused silence from the node staff.  “Well, uh, please tell her anyway.”

            Aurelius looked questioningly at the Captain.  Weathers motioned to cut the auto feed.  “Don’t respond.  Let them contact us.”  That bought them a minute or two. 

            “Wha – they’re trying to block me!” Jyong exclaimed.  “You bastards wanna play?  I’ve got a few tricks, too!” she snarled, opening yet more programs as her fingers flew over the keys.

“No-Dachi, you’re still trying to gain root access.  Please use the designated channel.”

“We’ve tried, sir,” Aurelius answered, “The Regulator refuses to.  She says she only takes orders from the Office of Imperial Regulation.”

“Only Port Authority is permitted root access – no exceptions!” the voice said, a bit frustrated, “Tell the Regulator to stop while we contact Imperial Regulation for confirmation.”

            Weathers felt himself tense.  That could easily call their bluff – but it would also take few minutes, which might be all they needed.  “Status?” he asked Jyong.

            “Still trying to access the Emergency Broadcast Override protocols… and they’re not making it easy, either,” Jyong grunted, her voice strained.  “I can’t do much without those…”

            When the node hailed them again a few minutes later, a new voice addressed them – one that carried considerably more authority. “Let me speak to your Captain,” it said.-

            Aurelius glanced at Weathers, who nodded.  Aurelius activated a masking video feed and translation protocols – a false image of an Asian captain would be transmitted, and Weather’s speech would be translated perfectly, but would lack the emotional overtones of natural conversation – and Weathers knew that alone, to a careful observer, might give him away.

            “Imperial Regulation claims Regulator Beatrix, is deceased,” the voice said, “We’ve contacted the local picket.  You’re ordered to power down and prepare to be boarded.”

            “Captain, an Akagi-class cruiser is heading for us!” sensor officer Hargrave called out.

            Weathers motioned to mute the feed.  He opened a channel to his ship’s security staff.  “Give Beatrix a queller injection, put her in her regulator uniform, and get to the bridge NOW!” he barked, then turned his attention back to his inquisitor.

            “This is Captain Chil-sung Hashimoto,” Weathers said, giving the name of the ship’s last legitimate leader, “You say Regulator Beatrix is dead, but I’m staring at her right now.  We did DNA scans when she came onboard – standard security procedure – and them matched!” he said, “So before I detain someone who personally reports to the Emperor… are you sure there hasn’t been an error?” he demanded.  Then – closing his eyes and touching the mind of the node’s commander – he conveyed a subtle but slowly building sense of doubt and uncertainty.

            More silence.  It bought them enough time to drag Beatrix, disoriented and dizzy from the queller injection, to the bridge.  David quickly explained the situation to her, and despite her incapacitated state, she caught on quickly.  She stood and steadied herself with a visible effort.  If she was aware of the security crewman aiming a pistol at her from off-camera, she ignored him.

When Port Authority hailed them next, she managed to answer with all the arrogance and icy disdain of an Imperial Regulator.  “This is Imperial Regulator Cynthia Beatrix,” she snapped in perfect pi-yin, “You are interfering with orders handed down from the Emperor himself!  I advise you to carefully consider the consequences of your actions - and your future career – before continuing with this line of questioning,” she spat.  “Are you sure you want to challenge me?”

            A slight pause.  “I’m sorry, sir,” Port Authority said, respectfully but firm, “but we can’t confirm your claim.  Imperial Regulation reports you as dead.  Unless you can explain…?”

            Weathers noticed – with a twinge of admiration - how Cynthia allows a few seconds of icy silence before speaking.  “What you are about to hear is classified at the highest level.  You are to repeat this to no one.  If you do, Imperial Regulation will deny it and you will be arrested on changes of sedition.  Do you understand?” after a few seconds with no answer, she continued.  “I am on a covert mission for the Emperor.  Of course Imperial Regulation will deny my involvement – for the sake of plausible deniability!” she said, as if explaining something to a child. “Frankly, I’m surprised they admit to have even heard of me!”

            “We… understand that possibility, Regulator,” the node commander responded, his voice strained.  “But even if that’s true… Imperial Regulation isn’t cleared for the security level you’re trying to gain!  We can tell you’re trying to access the Emergency Override sys-“

            “Which should tell you how important this transmission is!” Beatrix growled.  “Think about it, you meddling idiot!  I am on a covert mission of national security authorized at the very highest level of our government, and suddenly, unexpectedly, I need to make a galaxy-wide transmission using Emergency Broadcast Override!  You know what that implies!  Can you risk the consequences of stopping me?  Do you want responsibility for that?  Do you dare?!”

            Weathers could feel shock and fear flood the man’s mind, then terrible stress and indecision.  Weathers sent more feelings of doubt.  Finally, the commander spoke.  “We understand, ma’am,” he said, and closed the transmission.  Immediately Cynthia, who had managed to stand straight and still through the exchange, staggered and sank dizzily to the floor. 

            David breathed a sigh of relief – that  had been close.   “What’s you’re status, M. Guo?” 

            “Well, they’re not trying to block me anymore,” she said, not looking up from the screen, “and they’re not going to!  I just locked them out!  Hah!  Let’s see you get past that, you snobby-“

            But the Captain had stopped listening.  He turned his attention to Cynthia, who was pulling herself groggily into a bridge chair.  “You alright?” he asked with a hint of concern.

“These... damn drugs…” she muttered, “please don’t do this to me again, David!”

            Weathers shrugged.  “You gave a pretty good performance just now, despite that.”

            “I… got lucky…” she muttered. 

            “Captain!  That cruiser is hailing us!” Aurelius called out. 

            “Answer it,” Weathers commanded.

            “This is Captain Lam of the IMS Mushashi.  Power down and prepare to be boarded.”

            “This is the IMS No-Dachi,” Aurelius responded, “We’ve been over this, Captain.  We’re on a confidential mission on behalf of Imperial Regulation. The node commander has already-“

            “Your hull number and identification codes match the No-Dachi,” the Captain Lam said in a no-nonsense tone, “but you are not that ship!  The No-Dachi’s was recently caught in a solar flare.  Its sensors were fried.  It was towed back to the Babylon shipyards – it’s still there, we just checked.  You are an imposter.  And if you do not power down now, we will open fire!” 

Stunned, Aurelius looked to the captain for orders.  No one had anticipated this – how could they possibly have known?  This was bad - very bad.  Weathers motioned to mute the feed.  

“Jyong, status!” he barked.

            “Still working on the distribution algorithm,” she answered.

            “How much more time do you need?”

            “As much as you can give me!” she snapped irritably.  David fought back surge of anger. 

            “Let me try, David,” Beatrix said, struggling to her feet.  Weathers nodded to Aurelius, who opened the transmission again.  “Captain, you are endangering a classified Imperial Regulation operation!” she said sternly.  “Has it occurred to you this ship is listed as disabled in dry dock for a reason?  In the name of the Emperor, I orer you to stand down, erase all sensor logs of your encounter with this vessel, and speak of this to no one!  Do I make myself clear?”

            “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t take that risk.  Power down and prepare to be boarded.”

            David reached out and mentally touched the other Captain’s mind – and instantly knew this man would be tough to sway.  His will was strong, he had committed to his course of action, and… God help us… he was awakened.  He had only a touch of magick – but enough to mount a defense.  David felt a sinking sensation in his gut.  The situation was worsening every second.

            “If you interfere with this mission, Captain Lam, there will be consequences!” Beatrix growled.  “I’ll have you busted down to crewman – if you aren’t executed for treason!”

            “I assume full responsibility, Regulator,” Lam shot back.  “We’ll determine if you business is legitimate after you are in custody.  You have ten seconds to power down or we open fire.”

            “Do you have any idea what’s at stake here, Captain?!” Beatrix yelled. 

            “No.  And – let me guess - you’re not going to tell me because it’s confidential, right?”

            “At least let me finish my transmission!” Beatrix cried, “It’s a matter of national security!” 

            “I can’t allow that, ma’am.  You have five seconds.”

            David gestured to mute the feed.  “Jyong, transmit whatever you can and get out NOW!”

            “But –“

            “DO IT!” he barked, then opened the channel again.  “This is Captain Hashimoto, Weathers said, “My security team has detained the Regulator – and we’re closing the connection to the node - but that’s as far as I’m willing to go.  I won’t risk my ship over this - but I can not allow it to be boarded, either.  I have my orders.”

            “You will power down and prepare to be boarded.  This is your final-“

            “Captain, you are about to fire on another Imperial ship!” Weathers said intently.  “I know you think this is suspicious, and frankly I don’t blame you!  But if you fire on us, Imperial property will be destroyed, lives lost on both ships, and crucial information might never reach the Emperor!  Before you give the order to fire, ask yourself this: are you sure we’re rouge?  Are you absolutely, positively sure?”  And then David, just as Beatrix had taught him, sent into it a sudden, focused, overwhelming sense of doubt into Captain Lam’s mind.  He followed these with images –of the No-Dachi exploding, of Captain Lam’s crewmen dead and dying.  Images of Lam in court martial, of reporters flashing cameras at him, of weeping families of civilian ships caught in the crossfire.

            There was only silence from the other end of the comm line.  Lam was thinking about it.

            “We’ve cut our connection to the communication node,” David pressed, so whatever dire threat you thought existed has passed.  The rest we can negotiate.  You have your orders… but I have mine, too - no one is to have access to the Regulator Beatrix and her information except Imperial Regulation or the Emperor himself.  I’m sure we can find a compromise that satisfied us both.  We can leave the system and deliver Beatrix personally to Wilke’s Star, or wait here for clearance from Imperial Regulation – I’m open to suggestions, Captain.”

            Weathers continued to send the feelings and images.  At first there was no response from Captain Lam – then, finally, he spoke.  “Power down your weapons.  We will escort you to Wilke’s Star.  Imperial Regulation can sort it out from there.”  He closed the connection.

            Weathers let out a deep breath, then turned to his tactical officer.  “Power down the weapon systems, Schultz, but as slowly as possible.  Stall until we’re out of the system, if you can, when it’ll just be us and that cruiser.”  He turned to Jyong.  “How far did you get?”

            “Well, we got it out,” Jyong muttered, disappointed, “it’ll spread like a virus for a few days, they simultaneously launch on every system its on using the Emergency Broadcast Override.  They won’t be able to shut it down until the transmission is already over.”

            “So it worked, then?” Weathers asked hopefully.

            “Not completely,” Jyong said glumly.  “I didn’t have time to disguise the distribution path.  It’ll be easy to tell where it originated – especially considering the fuss we caused at the node.  I wouldn’t plan on being able to do this again anytime soon, Captain – not the same way, at least.”

            If we don’t get out of this mess, Weathers thought, that won’t matter.

            There were only two digital gate jumps from Sinkiang to Wilke’s Star – a journey of a few hours.  Their only chance for escape would be when crossing the Jennifer’s Star system, deep in Middle Kingdom territory, while being closely watched by a warship that out-classed and out-gunned them.  David had no idea how he was going to manage that – and time was running out.

 

 

END OF ACT II