Note: From the Ends to the Beginning, is the third series in these PGP stories. This one will resolve several ongoing mysteries and will delve into the pasts of the four boyz (Avon, Argus, Vila and Sester).
Just some reminders from the previous series:
Avon is currently blind because of Jenna (Story 11 Perceptions of Truth).
Avon, Argus, Vila and Sester discovered they were all childhood friends at a place called, The Academy, but their memories of each other were wiped.
Jenna has been allowed back onboard the ship but none of them trust her.
The Psychostrategist's Guild has a mysterious agenda.
Some quotes for this story:
"We humans fear the beast within the wolf because we do not understand the beast within ourselves."
~ Gerald Hausman
"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul - hope you like what you see."
~ Aldo Leopold
"Only a mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf."
~ Aldo Leopold
"The gaze of the wolf reaches into our soul."
~ Barry Lopez
"Throughout the centuries we have projected on to the wolf the qualities we most despise and fear in ourselves."
~ Barry Lopez
Chapter One
Jenna Stannis was in a foul temper. Which was not unlike any other mood she had been in since she'd returned to the ship, on the sufferance of everyone on board. Especially that obscenely happy pair, Avon and Cally. Not that you could tell with that stony-faced bas… Jenna corrected herself. Their expressionless technical genius.
She dabbed her cheek fiercely with the colour applicator. Argh! Why couldn't she get the shading right? Now she looked like the ghost of… She shook her head and read the label on the applicator container.
Guaranteed to make you look years younger. Younger than what? My dead grandmother?
Or your credits back. Yes, well, fat chance of that since she'd scrounged it up from the Justice's clothing and accoutrements rooms. Who knows where the ship had obtained its stores. Or why.
Expiry date…the number was smudged out. Hang on; the damned thing had an expiry date? Jenna dropped the stick with disgust and dug around the drawer for an old standby, Scansian pink. The colour rolled smoothly on.
She looked at herself appraisingly in the mirror. Just a bit more. That would stop those young blades from thinking I'm old.
Her lips twisted in a momentary scowl. Frown lines and dark circles under her eyes. It was all Avon's fault. He had her reading hour after hour of boring technical manuals. She could almost swear that he was trying to make her as blind as he was. Wouldn't put it past the vindictive…technical genius.
He seemed to find it fascinating but she wasn't buying it. No one could possibly find those dry, incomprehensible manuals - obviously written by people who had no life - interesting. She was certain that he was doing it just to torture her.
Jenna angled her head in the light, wondering if the dermal regenerator would help.
Another scowl. That would mean going to Cally. There was no way she was going to do that.
More colour applicator.
**********
Jenna stood in line at the food dispenser. She was getting very tired of having all these people aboard. Tapping her foot impatiently, she noticed the strapping young soldier, Lt. Dain entering. He nodded politely as he stepped into line behind her. "Ma'am."
Jenna suppressed a snarl. Frown lines. Remember, frown lines.
"Good morning, lieutenant."
"It's a fine morning, ma'am."
These soldiers from Athol were so excruciatingly polite that they jangled on her frayed nerves. "It is for some people," she grumbled irritably.
"I'm sorry." Dain stared hard at her for a moment, as if he'd noticed she had grown an extra head, and then looked away.
"Is there something wrong, soldier?"
"No…I just…I've never seen that shade before. I was wondering if you were ill. "
A deep scowl added to Jenna's frown lines.
**********
In Avon's lab, Jenna's fingers jabbed at the controls on the side of an alien-looking object as he dictated. "Mu over Si. By Al differentiated. L sin U equals. Six double xv minus phi inverted to the power of mixed gamma…"
"Slow down!" Jenna exclaimed as she tried to keep up. She felt her fingers hitting the wrong key. "Damn!"
Avon said dryly, "Did you destroy the time space continuum again? This is a finely balanced equation. It must be entered in the correct sequence. The Justice's spatial distort engines…"
"Don't you think I know that?! You've only said it a hundred times!"
"A hundred and one."
"You're a bastard, Avon."
"So you frequently tell me. Now, shall we proceed or do your eyes need rest? Of course mine don't."
She nearly picked up the machine and chucked it at him. She said with exaggerated pleasantness, "I don't need any rest."
"Where did you make the error?"
Jenna traced back along the convoluted equation. "Uhh…" Damn! "…Mu over Si. I think I put…"
"Start from the beginning."
She groaned in annoyance. "Aren't there some technical manuals you want me to read? That 14 Gig one…hang on a second." Her faced scrunched as a thought occurred to her. "Why am I doing this manually? Don't all computers have verbal interfaces?"
Avon's lips curved unevenly upwards. "I was wondering when you would ask."
Jenna said with outrage, "You mean I've been doing this for nothing?! And don't tell me that all I had to do was ask." Her face was turning redder than the Scansian pink could cover up.
Avon said, "You assume too much and think too little."
"Why you…"
Cally entered with her medical kit. "Is there something the matter?"
Jenna said angrily, "Ask him!"
Avon's head tilted as he followed the sound of Cally's footsteps. "Jenna assumed that all computers have verbal interfaces." He turned his head in Jenna's direction, a faint smirk on his lips. "They don't. This particular piece of apparatus is part of the ship's original design. It was never fitted with a verbal interface."
Jenna let out a breath of frustration. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"
"You didn't ask."
A sharp retort was about to spill from her lips when Jenna noticed that Cally was looking at her cheek with keen interest. "What are you staring at?"
"That's not a flattering shade."
Jenna's hand touched her face. "It's my normal colour if you didn't notice. Only a bit darker."
Cally rolled her eyes in alien incomprehension. "I've never understood why humans find the aging process such a threat to their self-image."
This was the last straw. "I am not old!"
Indifferent to her concerns, Avon said, "Humans are irrational, Cally."
"But age lines are a natural characteristic of the maturation process. On Auron it was considered a good sign."
Jenna clenched her teeth. If one more person mentioned the word 'age', 'aging' or 'lines' in her presence, she would not be responsible for her actions.
**********
Later, in Sester's cabin…
Whack!
"What was that for?" Sester asked in indignation, his hand rubbing his abused cheek as Jenna glared at him, her hand still upraised.
"What did you just say?" she asked with a strong note of warning in her voice.
"I only said that…" He glanced at her hand apprehensively. "…some wines age better than other ones."
If Jenna's eyes were skewers, Sester would be trussed up for roasting. She said angrily, "Are you trying to insinuate something about my age?"
Sester gestured to the bottle on the table. "I was trying to insinuate something about this fine bottle of wine. I brought it from the restaurant we both enjoyed. It's a special vintage. Very hard to obtain unless you have the right connections."
Jenna regarded him warily. "What do you want?"
"Is everyone on this ship paranoid?"
"Only about you."
Sester chuckled as he rubbed his face. "Very true. Now are you…"
The announcing chime sounded. "Who could that be, I wonder?" he asked with undisguised delight.
Jenna said acidly, "An outraged husband? I know your type. You like to play with women you can't have." A sly, evocative, - almost crocodile-like - smile appeared on her face as she slinked up to him, her hips swaying suggestively. "You wouldn't know what to do if a woman really wanted you." She grabbed Sester by the collar and pulled him into a long, deep, searching kiss.
Sester always found it difficult to argue with a beautiful woman, especially one who was kissing him with such vigour. He began to cooperate in the endeavour when Jenna shoved him away, her perfect white teeth flashing mockingly in the room lights. "Well? What do you say to that?"
Sester coughed and readjusted a collar that seemed too tight. The ignored chime sounded again impatiently, twice in quick succession. A broad grin spread across his face. "I say that we need more people for this party."
The way that he quickly reached forward and pressed the control on his desk, made Jenna's eyes narrow in suspicion.
Kirsten's lovely form was framed in the doorway. "What took so…" she took a step in and stopped as she spied Jenna. "What are you doing here?"
Sester's face was composed in a serious expression. "It's my cabin."
She fixed Jenna with a glare, "I'm asking you."
After an aggravating day, Jenna had been looking forward to this. Making Sester's life miserable seemed to be the only enjoyment she had on this ship. "He invited me. He wanted to show me something special."
A pained look appeared on Sester's face.
Kirsten glared at Sester now. "He said the same thing to me." She leaned forward. "What is that?" She pointed to the smudge mark on his lips.
"Oh. It's…" Sester glared at Jenna, an accusation in his eyes.
Before the poor man could say anything, Jenna said with a smirk, "Would you like to tell her, or should I?"
Whack! This time it was Kirsten who slapped him.
"Ow!" Sester held his matching cheeks. "It wasn't even my fault!"
Kirsten asked tartly, "She made you do it?"
He sputtered, "Well, she kissed me and…I didn't want to be impolite…"
"So you let her?" She raised her hand but this time he was ready and caught it.
"You only get one slap per day," he told her.
Jenna said, "He makes an exception for me."
Sester winced at the memory of their conversation in the bushes while they were trying to convince the Federation guards that they were a disgustingly amorous Alpha couple.
Kirsten said angrily, "Then you slap him!"
"My pleasure." Jenna raised her hand.
Sester backed away, his hands covering his sore cheeks. "Now, ladies…" He flashed them a quick, roguish grin. "There's enough of me to go around. I…hope."
Beep. Beep. Beep. They looked at each other, and then around the room, searching for the source of the sound.
Jenna scowled and reached into her trouser pocket, pulling out a small rectangular device with a screen that was blinking red. "It's Avon. I have to go. We'll continue this later."
**********
After the door slid closed, Kirsten asked curiously, "Do you think she suspects you're playing her?"
Sester reached from behind and put his arms around her, pressing their bodies together. "We're both playing her."
"That was fun."
Sester chuckled. "You're quite good. And to answer your question, she does suspect, but as I said before, if you know how to play it correctly, she won't be able to help herself." He rubbed his stinging cheeks. "Though I don't think you need to slap me quite so convincingly."
"You deserved it."
His eyes were drawn to the nape of her neck. Kirsten's hair had parted and tantalizing glimpses of her soft white skin peaked through invitingly. It was one of the most sensitive areas of a woman's body. He bent down, breathing in her sweet scent and blew gently on the exposed flesh.
"Ahhh." A shudder of pleasure passed through Kirsten's body and she arched back. Her eyes closed as he ran light fingers up and down her spine. "What else can you teach me?" she asked.
Sester smiled affectionately and teased, "I do love a woman who only wants me for my mind."
"And who would that be?"
"You're unique, intelligent, beautiful…" He drew her hand into his and gently raised it to his lips, the tip of his tongue just grazing the back of her hand, sending delicious thrills down her spine.
"And flattery will get you nowhere."
"…not to mention frustrating." He turned her hand in his and kissed the centre of her palm, sending more currents of desire coursing through her body.
Reluctantly, Kirsten extricated herself from his embrace and stepped back.
Sester gave an agonized, groaning sigh. His pants were bulging uncomfortably. Kirsten would have to be blind and completely without feeling on the lower part of her body if she hadn't felt his stiff attention pressing up against her. Despite the kisses they had shared, Jenna never had this effect on him. He asked with a resigned voice, "Not today?"
"You know why not."
"Actually, other than your desire to inflict undeserved pain and suffering on me…I haven't a clue."
She suddenly kissed him. A slow, sensual, passionate kiss that made his heart hammer in his chest. Hesitantly, his fingers reached down to the buttons of her blouse and…found they were already undone and she was inviting his touch.
"Oh…" A low guttural, moan escaped his lips. "Kirsten…how…"
"The usual way," she whispered tantalizingly into his ear as he slipped trembling fingers inside her blouse and touched the smooth mound that teased him with its curved…
The announcing chime sounded again.
He growled in naked frustration. "No!"
Kirsten sighed and stepped back, her fingers automatically redoing the buttons.
The aching need in his groin caused Sester's voice to rise in a plea, "Kirsten…"
"You'd better get the door."
Sester groaned in frustrated complaint, "I don't think I can do that." He quickly took a step to hide himself, or at least the lower portion, behind a chair.
He thought it was highly unsympathetic of her to have such a clearly amused look on her face as she pressed the door panel.
Reya stood in the doorway.
Chapter Two
Sester discreetly angled the chair to cover his lower regions as Reya came slowly into the cabin, her eyes ripe with suspicion. It was as much to save himself from embarrassment as to prevent Kirsten from seeing his interests plainly displayed. Of course, she might think that it was because of her and what they had just been about to do, but he didn't want to take the chance.
Trying to sound his usual, amused self, he asked, "To what do I owe this pleasure, Reya?"
"I have a request."
"This must be serious if you're asking me for help."
A frown flitted briefly across Reya's face. "I want you to help Argus when he deals with the rebel leaders."
Sester's eyes widened slightly and then crinkled as an ironic smile curled his lips. "It is serious."
"He will need someone of your abilities."
He studied her face as a touch of envy wormed its way through his mind. Reya's caring and commitment were not for him. It would never be.
He glanced surreptitiously over at Kirsten, wondering if she would ever do the same for him. It was hard to tell. They enjoyed playing together and they were strongly attracted to one another but he did not make the mistake of thinking that it meant something more.
How could it? He never left enough of himself for anyone to form that kind of relationship with him. It wasn't possible - not to mention highly discouraged - for a psychostrategist to become involved with his puppets. Play with them, yes. Have a serious connection with…
Sester gave a mental sigh. He wasn't even sure he was capable of one even if he wanted it. At times, when he sat alone above it all, manipulating the playing pieces into the optimum configuration, he would hold one of the pieces in his mind, staring into its eyes and wishing that it would see him for himself.
In a joking tone, he said, "And how do you expect him to accept my assistance? I don't think tying him down would help."
Kirsten said helpfully, "I still have those restraints…if that would be of any use."
Sester, wondering what she was up to, tried to signal her with his eyes. Now was not the time for games and the last thing he wanted to do was get into trouble with Reya.
Reya eyed her cautiously, "What restraints?"
"The ones that Argus used for him."
"And why do you have them?" asked Reya as some troubling thoughts came to mind. She had tried to warn Kirsten about being involved with Sester. It was becoming obvious that she had not followed her advice.
Kirsten's face was turning a shade of red. "Oh…well…we…"
It was clear she was up to something. Sester said quickly, "She forgot to return them."
Reya said slowly, "I…see…." Her eyes indicated that she was not accepting this lame excuse. She looked him squarely in the eyes. "You're encouraging this?"
"I…I…" This time the sputtering was real. Why was it that he couldn't think of something brilliant to say? His brains seemed to be concentrated in a part of his anatomy not suited for thinking. This was a dangerous situation. "Of course not, Reya," he said with as much earnestness he could muster.
Reya's eyes narrowed and her brows knitted as her eyes spotted the expensive bottle of wine. "What are you trying to do?"
Kirsten said, "He was only trying to treat us to a bottle of nice wine."
Reya glanced sharply at her. "Whose we?"
"Well…Jenna was here earlier but she had to leave."
"Jenna and Kirsten?" Reya's eyes were like high-powered scanners trying to bore into Sester's mind.
"It isn't what you think," said Sester.
"Then what is it?" asked Reya without a trace of humour. She suddenly stared hard at his lips and then at Kirsten, who didn't seem to need any beauty aids. In a tone that was undoubtedly questioning his dubious taste, Reya asked, "You kissed Jenna?"
Sester belatedly rubbed the back of his hand across his lips. Unfortunately, it only smudged it further and made him look like a lopsided clown. "I didn't! Reya, you've got to believe me."
"Why?" asked Reya, moving from complete lack of humour to some very unfriendly thoughts.
Sester put a hand to his cheek in self-defence. Although from the look on her face, Reya might skip slapping altogether in favour of something much more painful.
What was even worse, there was a disappointed look in her eyes. She said, "I knew that you played games. You've done it often enough with me but I didn't realize that you play with all women."
Sester's heart sank. He looked from Reya to Kirsten like a skittish animal caught in the spotlight. How could he save this situation and not hurt either Reya or Kirsten? His master had warned him to be careful with his games. So far, both women occupied different areas of his attentions. Having them together…
He tried to explain, "It's not the same with the others. You're…" How was he going to get out of this?
Reya asked dryly, "Are you talking to me, to Kirsten or both of us?"
"I want to know that too," said Kirsten.
Sester suppressed a smile as he realized what she was doing. She was deliberately trying to pin him down in an awkward situation of his own making.
And he still couldn't step away from the protective covering of the chair. With both women here in close proximity, pushing him, their eyes flashing with anger and intensity, it was exquisitely painful and wonderful at the same time and his body was responding in disturbingly primal ways.
This was a challenge worthy of his skills.
"You're both wonderful," he began with just the right touch of raw honesty, helped by the fact that it was how he felt.
As if on cue, Reya and Kirsten crossed their arms over their chests. "Yes?" Reya's manner oozed cynicism.
"Honestly." Normally, Sester would avoid beginning a sentence with that word. It usually gave the impression that the opposite was about to come out of someone's mouth.
"You both know how I feel. And you both know what I am. I can't help it. I…" His throat caught in the midst of emotion and calculation. "…never mean any harm. It's…"
His eyes lowered as thoughts and feelings churned inside him. He was skirting a fine line, the one that his master had drawn for him many years ago. The humanity he had been allowed to harbour, usually deeply hidden away from the others, and the role that defined who he was to the world.
"…all a game to me. But…" He lifted vulnerable and earnest eyes to face them. "…you're both important to me. In different ways. If my games hurt you…I'm sorry. It's the way I relate to people. I…don't know any other way. I would like to say that I could change but I would be lying. I couldn't do that to either one of you."
There was a moment of pregnant silence.
Kirsten half-turned in Reya's direction. "Do you believe him? You've known him longer than I have."
"I don't think anyone truly knows him."
"Then you don't believe what he said?"
"I would like to." Reya paused for a moment, her eyes seeking out the truth from a man to whom honesty was only part of the game. "I don't think we will ever know for certain. He's right, life is a game to him. But…" Her eyes were heavy with thought as she contemplated this complex and mercurial man and her feelings for him. "…I think that his truth is in how he plays the game. I know he would never knowingly try to hurt me or lie to me. Those are rules he has set for himself, for people who are important to him. They apply to you now as well."
Kirsten bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Now I know why he's drawn to you. I didn't think you understood, but you do."
Reya looked sharply at her, suddenly realizing what Kirsten had just done. This was no innocent girl. She was a formidable woman in her own right. Their assessment of her abilities for the Challenges was not in error. "You are well matched. To him."
"I'm glad you see that."
"You know that I'm not a threat to you?"
Kirsten nodded. "I've always known, but I was curious."
"My warning still stands. Be careful with him."
"Don't worry. He will have more than his hands full with me."
Sester had wisely stepped back from this conversation, allowing the seeds he had planted to work and blossom. Now, what he wanted to achieve had been accomplished. The atmosphere had changed.
A slight grin lifted the corner of his lips. "Now that neither one of you wants to kill me…or slap me…"
Kirsten said, "And how do you know that?"
The grin widened and Sester's eyes twinkled like the rogue he relished being. "Because you both love me?"
Reya rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible and you've just managed to squirm out of trouble."
This statement was greeted with a chuckle. In a voice like rough silk, and with disarming warmth, he said, "I'm very good, aren't I?"
"Very good at being very bad," said Reya. "Are you going to help Argus?"
He flashed her a mischievous grin. "I would love to."
"Why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret this?"
Placing his hand to his chest in a gesture of sincerity, Sester said, "I'm going to try to help him. I promise."
As she moved to leave, Reya looked back at Kirsten. "Keep those restraints handy. You might need them."
Kirsten grinned. "Don't worry. They're never far away."
Sester hid his smile in a discreet cough.
**********
"This is completely unnecessary," growled Avon as Cally, with a firm grip on his arm, led him to the bio-bed and helped him to climb on. "I am not an invalid."
With great patience, Cally said, "Avon…"
Sullenly crossing his arms over his chest and sitting on the bed rather than lying down, he said, "Alright, I am an invalid. But I am not…"
"I could let you work yourself into a state of collapse. But then we'd have to send someone to look for you."
"I do not plan to collapse."
"Yes…and what happens when you do?"
"I have Jenna."
At that moment Jenna waltzed in, a none-too-pleased look on her face. "You rang?"
"It was me," said Cally.
Jenna said, "And what do you want?"
"Avon, I'm going to leave Jenna here. I have a shift on the flight deck and the doctors are currently busy."
Avon said indignantly, "I do not require watching."
Jenna grumbled, "What am I now? A babysitter?"
Sliding off the bed, Avon said, "I'm leaving."
Oomph. He promptly banged into a cabinet that had been moved while he was working in his lab. Cally led the moderately stunned man back onto the bed.
"Avon, please. I know you think you're too busy to rest, but you have to. The poison is still affecting you even though it's no longer fatal." She felt his damp forehead. "Your body temperature is elevated because your body is actively fighting the effects. And you insist on a lower dosage than your system can tolerate. I know you're feeling pain even if you won't admit it."
Suddenly feeling drained of energy, Avon leaned back, his face drawn and pale. "I cannot concentrate with a higher dosage."
She put her hand on his with gentle understanding. "I know. That's why I've haven't fought you on this. But you need to allow your body time to recover. And…" Cally looked over to Jenna. "This is the other reason why I called for you. You understand the effects of Shade. You saw what it did to Rane."
Jenna grimaced at the uncomfortable memory. For a moment, the two men were superimposed in her mind. She felt empathy as well as guilt. Her voice was subdued. "Yes. I know what you want."
She looked down at the obstinate man and for the first time saw the deep lines of stress that were etched on his face, the tightness to his jaw showing the pain he was in and the unhealthy pallor that indicated that this was not a well man. Jenna had never noticed before. Perhaps she didn't want to.
She may have felt guilty at what she had done to him, but it didn't mean that she liked or trusted him. His coldness, his arrogance, his independence and the way his manner pushed people away, had made it easy for her to be blind to him as a human being.
In a voice that was no longer tinged with irritation or antagonism, Jenna said, "Avon."
When he turned his head in her direction, she continued, "The effects will only get worse. That's how Shade works and…in the poison form, its accelerated. It may be slowed down because of your temporary antidote, but…"
Avon's strained voice said impassively, "It's only temporary."
"Yes. I'm…" She thought it would be a hard thing to keep saying, considering what he had been putting her through the last few days. But it seemed petty now. Maybe he had no ulterior motive in making those demands of her. She was the cause of many of his current problems. "I'm sorry. Rane…" A stab of pain always accompanied the mention of her old friend's name. "…was like you. He wouldn't take a full dose either. He wanted to be able to function. He got progressively worse and in the end…I had no choice."
Avon asked harshly, "You forced it on him?"
Jenna's voice was a whisper of guilt. "I had to. He was suffering. In pain."
Cally had very little sympathy for her feelings of remorse. "He almost died."
"I…know. It was my fault." Jenna's shoulders slumped in. "I never thanked you for saving his life, Avon. I…owe you."
"Don't worry, I'll remind you," said Avon.
"Look, I'm trying to…never mind. The antidote you found doesn't remove the effects of Shade. And if it works the same as before, taking a partial dose only makes it worse."
This gave Cally an idea. "Do you think that we can slow the speed of deterioration by using a full dose?"
Avon had an instant reaction "No."
Placing her hand on his arm again, she said, "Avon, it would only be the occasional dose."
"I need to think."
"Avon, you're not being rational. If Jenna is right, it will get to the point where we will no longer have a choice. This way, it will give you more time to find a permanent solution."
Avon said in a dead tone, "No choice."
Lifting his hand up gently, she held it in both hands. She could feel the anguish that gripped him. After all this time, the loss of choice and freedom, the feeling that he did not have control over his own life, was a crushing blow. "It is best if we start as soon as possible."
HIs head was faced in her direction and she could see that he wished he could see her face. Using the ability that they had both discovered, she formed the image he needed and projected it into his mind.
HIs breath caught momentarily as he 'saw' her. "Will you stay…here?"
"I wish I could…" Cally knew that his request was born out of a need that was still hard for him to express. Avon saw it as a weakness, and even more so now. Any reduction in his mental capacity would be a terrifying experience for a man to whom the mind was his most important asset. It defined who he was. She could not leave him to face it alone. There was a hard set on her face. "I will tell Argus that I need to change shifts."
Avon squeezed her hand slightly in silent thanks.
Jenna stood up. "I will tell Argus. You stay with Avon."
"Thank you," said Cally absently. They barely noticed when Jenna left.
**********
Jenna hesitated on the top step leading down to the flight deck. She missed being here. Since being allowed back on the ship, she had only been required to be on the flight deck once. She wasn't even sure if she was welcome.
Argus was alone, at his station, his head bent over the panel and his fingers busy at the controls. He straightened up and turned to look at her. "Jenna."
"I have a message from Cally. An emergency came up with Avon and she can't take her shift."
His face was immediately concerned. "Is he alright?"
"He'll…" Jenna knew that saying that Avon would be fine would be far from the truth. "…The addiction has become worse. He needs to take a full dose of the drug."
Argus grimaced. "He's not going to like that."
"That's why Cally needs to stay with him."
"Thank you for telling me. I will take care of Cally's shift." He turned back to his panel.
Jenna stood watching his back. They used to be friends once, working together for a common goal. He used to trust her. She even used to have an interest in him until Reya came along. Now she doubted he would give her the time of day if she asked.
Sensing that she hadn't left, Argus turned around and asked, "Was there anything else?"
"I…uh…" Jenna wanted to say more but after what happened in the medical unit, she wasn't prepared for another load of guilt. "…nothing. I'll go." She turned and left.
**********
Argus sighed as she disappeared from view. It would take a long time for Jenna to feel comfortable on this ship again. And longer for the others to feel they could trust her. Checking that the corridor was clear of people, he said, "Zen, inform me if you detect anyone approaching the flight deck until further notice."
"Confirmed."
"Use my personal contact protocol. D18."
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, trying to prepare himself for a meeting he had been avoiding.
After a few minutes, Zen said, "Communication channel established."
"Put it on the main viewscreen."
"Confirmed."
The Federation President was in full form. Splendid in a blood red dress with a high collar, lips darker as if she were a vampire who not wiped her last victim from her lips. She assumed the tone of a superior officer. "Commander, I do not find it amusing to have my orders ignored."
Argus snarled sarcastically, "I didn't know you were giving orders."
"You agreed to contact me once a week."
"I've been busy."
The screen flared. Argus put his hand up to shield his eyes. He always forgot to ask Avon to take a look at this. Not that he could now. Maybe one of the engineers?
Servalan said with cool displeasure, "That is not a suitable excuse."
"I don't care if you find it suitable or not, Servalan. I told you that I would contact you in my own time. Now do you have an assignment for me?"
The screen flared again and this time there was pain in his head.
Servalan was looking at him curiously. "I do." She reached forward to the control panel in front of her. "I am sending you the details now under the security protocol."
Argus looked down at this own panel. "I have it." He scrolled through the information quickly, trying not to frown. If Servalan's information was correct, the target was a particularly nasty individual, one he wouldn't mind removing from the land of the living. "When do you want this done?"
"I'm not in a hurry. Anytime in the next two months is fine."
"I will tell you when it's done."
"I have given you the code name, Ares, when you make contact with my agent."
"I am not one of your lackeys, Servalan. I don't need a code name."
"Would you prefer that I give them your real name?"
This woman always set him on edge. He scowled at her with annoyance. "Use the code name."
"I thought you might say that," Servalan said with a condescending smile.
"Is there anything else?" he asked, impatient to end this conversation as soon as possible.
"Not quite." She watched him intently. The screen flared again.
Argus put his hand to his head as another stab of pain pierced his brain.
Servalan asked circumspectly, "Is there something the matter?"
When the pain cleared, a fog he didn't realize had been clouding his mind, lifted and he remembered. His voice was a choked, "Servalan."
"Welcome back, Commander."
"Stop playing with my mind!" His fists clenched in anguish.
"You make it necessary."
"Leave me alone!" he roared. "I am not…"
"But you are, Commander. You belong to us. Or rather, to me now."
After finding out how they had used Blake, Argus had a sick feeling. "Have I…always been…"
"You are afraid that you've been used against the alliance in the same way Blake was?"
He wasn't confident that she would tell him the truth but he had to ask the question. "Was I?"
A slim smile appeared on her lips but her eyes continued to be cold and superior. "You can rest assured that we do not have that kind of control. Your conditioning was specialized in a different area. Besides, you know when we regained control of your mind."
Argus wanted to reach through the screen and do something very nasty to this woman. He remembered the days on the ship alone while they were over Papos. The long sessions of aggravating conversations with this woman and her underlings. He had not known the true purpose of the meetings until it was too late. They were reactivating the latent conditioning from his former days as a Federation officer. A low, angry growl formed in his throat. "What do you want from me, Servalan?"
"I want what I have always wanted from you. Your purpose is to protect my most valuable asset, Avon."
"Avon?" his eyes narrowed. "We agreed that you would leave him alone as long as I perform certain tasks for you."
"That was our agreement and it still is. But you have been lax in your duties. You let Avon be hurt. I can't allow that."
Argus hated this woman. She was touching on an area that had made him angry with himself. He had failed Avon. What happened to him was as much his fault as it was Jenna's. "It was my responsibility."
"Yes, it was. If you were still a Federation officer, I would be sending you to the retraining facilities." She smiled, an expression that sent chills down Argus's spine. "But I have a much better option."
The screen flared again and she said, "Have fun, Commander."
"No!" Argus reached for her as the mind blocks fell back into place.
Servalan waited as the emotions of anguish on his face were replaced by the cold, professional soldier again. "Contact me again in three days."
"You said I have two months to complete this assignment."
"You do but I guarantee that you will want to contact me in three days."
"What are you playing at, Servalan?"
"Contact me in three days."
The screen went black and returned to the star field.
Argus stared at it, wondering what she was up to and knowing it couldn't be anything good.
**********
Servalan switched off her monitor screen, a pleased smile on her lips. One of her black-hooded guards put down a tray in front of her. The heady aroma of the piping hot coffee filled her senses with warm memories. She picked up the cup and leaned back as she regarded her faceless minion. "Do you know the man who was on the screen?"
T-3 straightened up and answered obediently, "No, Madame President."
"No recollection at all?"
"I have no memories of the man."
"Pity."
"Would you like anything else?"
"You may go," she waved him away dismissively. As she watched his retreating back, Servalan made a mental note.
Chapter Three
"Avon, have you…" A question was on Vila's lips the moment he entered the medical bay. "Oh, hello, Cally," he said as he spotted her holding Avon's hand in an intimate gesture. "I should come back later."
Cally motioned him to enter. "Come in."
Vila entered on tiptoe, not wanting to disturb whatever it was they were doing. It was then that he noticed the odd look on Avon's face, completely relaxed, like someone who had no worries in life because he didn't have the mind to understand. "Is he…alright?"
Giving a sigh, Cally's eyes rested on the highly drugged man. She imagined that 'alright' was a word that Avon would prefer never to hear again. It had been a disturbing experience as Avon had slipped into an almost catatonic state. He had held onto her, squeezing increasingly tighter, keeping his face passive and refusing to voice his fears but unable to hide them from her. It was as if her hand was a lifeline and he had to hold on or be lost. She had promised that she would be here when he woke up. "He's taken a full dose of Shade."
Vila's mouth opened in, "Oh. Then he's dead to the world."
"Something like that. Is there something you wanted?"
"No…it can wait. I mean, it's not important."
"What is it, Vila?"
"Have you seen Argus lately?"
"No. I've been in here."
"Oh… then you wouldn't have seen him…"
Cally wished Vila would get to the point. "What is it, Vila?"
"He growled at me."
"He does that at times when he's angry or frustrated."
"This one was different. He growled at me and then he ran off. Made my hair stand on end. I was only asking if he wanted to see the new act Corinne and I came up with."
"Perhaps he was irritated about something."
"I thought he was going to tear my head off."
"You must be exaggerating."
"You wouldn't say that if you were there." Vila shuddered at the memory.
"Why don't you ask Reya if there's something wrong?"
"That's a good idea. I'll just go and do that."
Cally shook her head in amusement as Vila went off in search of the Commander.
**********
In a flurry of precision kicks and punches, Argus demolished the training dummy. It wasn't a display of skill or a practice of technique and it certainly wasn't for fitness reasons. It was outright aggression visited on a poor defenceless inanimate object, pounding it into submission and an early death. The unfortunate thing was still flickering and suffering a slow demise as its circuits registered that it was in a thousand unconnected pieces.
Argus was still bursting with energy that he couldn't seem to expend fast enough. He had to; he knew he was dangerous this way. The memories of what he had done to Sester and almost to Reya were all too disturbing reminders.
Heat rose from his body as if he were burning inside. His fists and jaw clenched, trying to contain the boiling fires. An angry growl came out in a roar of agony as he smashed his hand into the bulkhead.
Muscles stood out in tight knots, sculptured power in its rawest form. No longer graceful, acrobatic motions; it was a predatory animal, skilled to the hunt. Beautiful in its deadliness. Its eyes blazing with contained fury and the need to kill and destroy. Lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing some teeth that seemed sharper in the light.
He was slipping into something that he dared not name; a creature that had always frightened him. One that he hid from; the darkness inside. He did not want to hurt anyone, but the beast was created to hunt and destroy enemies. It was in its nature.
Argus placed both fists against the wall, concentrating, bringing his mind to bear, and forcing the beast to retreat.
No. I. Will. Not…let…it…win!
The one called Jack, the part of him that he had given name to - the boy who did not want to kill - fought against himself.
The fires slowly diminished as he wrestled back control, but the seething flames licked his soul, threatening to erupt if he had a lapse in concentration.
"Sir?"
At the sound of the human voice, Argus whirled to face him. For a moment, the dying embers of fury nearly made Lt. Dain take a step back.
"Sir? What happened?" Dain, asked as he skirted the hapless training dummy. A brave soldier, intent on caring for one of his own, not knowing that he was in the sights of a creature that had moments ago, needed to taste blood.
Argus ordered his body to relax and his fists to open. In a hoarse voice that barely seemed to remember how to speak, he said, "Accident."
Dain, ready for exercise in navy blue shorts and black sleeveless shirt that accentuated his dark, brown eyes, surveyed the detritus of destruction and said, "I've never seen a training dummy malfunction like this before. It looks like it exploded." His thigh muscles stood out in relief as he knelt down on one knee and poked at the wreckage. "You're lucky you weren't hurt, sir."
It was still hard for Argus's brain to find words to speak and he only managed a gruff, "Yes."
Dain crossed over to the comm unit on the wall and sent for one of the automated cleaning units.
**********
Vila found Reya in the weapons range, teaching Corinne and Kirsten the finer points of target shooting. He watched admiringly from the doorway, appreciating the lines of their profiles as they lay face down on the ground. Their elbows were propped up in classic sniper position, the rifles snugly against their shoulders and heads tilted to sight along the scope.
A slight squeeze and death shot out in invisible rays, unseen until the targets at the far end fluttered as they were hit.
Reya squinted and leaned forward. She said blankly, "You hit it."
Kirsten lifted her head up. "But?"
"Too wide a spread."
Corinne popped her head up too. "But we hit the targets."
"That's not the point. I know you can both hit it. If you weren't able to do at least that, I would not be giving you advanced lessons."
Both women sat up and stretched aching muscles that had been in one position too long.
Eying them critically, Reya said decisively, "You need conditioning."
"Conditioning?" Kirsten asked, not understanding how this could have anything to do with shooting more accurately.
Reya's lips pursed in thought, "Yes…a tougher physical regimen to increase your metabolic efficiency. Hand-eye coordination exercises. You need better awareness of the movements of your own body. I will draw up a schedule. You will begin tomorrow."
Laying down her rifle, Kirsten got up and argued, "Now, wait a minute. I thought the point was to hit the targets. We did, didn't we?"
Corinne, still sitting down, was trying to see if she had missed any of her shots. "It looks like we did."
Vila grinned. This was the part that had floored him when the Commander had tried to assess whom of the soldiers and the crew had the ability to be trained as sharpshooters.
Activating the control panel in front of her, Reya brought the targets closer and indicated with a laser pointer. "The goal is to hit the target marks on the scoring area. These four red circles." She pointed to the four tiny dots with the green beam. "And do it in a tight cluster pattern."
Kirsten looked incredulous. "But we can't even see them."
"You can with the scope."
Rubbing her eyes and then looking down at the scope, Corinne said, "I thought…they were specks on the scope."
"In the limited space of the cargo hold, I've had to scale down the targets in order to approximate real distances."
"Then that's not fair," complained Kirsten.
"Mathematically, they are to scale," said Reya. "Whether you can hit accurately at this level of skill, will determine if you miss your intended target or possibly hit one of your own people."
"You're asking us to do the impossible," said Kirsten. "I don't believe anyone can do it."
Corinne raised her hand, "Can we see an example?"
Reya had noticed when Vila came in but didn't acknowledge this until now because she knew this would interrupt the focus of her two charges. There was a barely perceptible smile on her lips as she glanced briefly in Vila's direction. He smiled back and nodded.
Lifting the rifle from Corinne's hands and turning to face her left shoulder to the target, Reya smoothly placed the butt firmly against her shoulders. She was like an immovable statue as she stood contemplating the target. Then with hardly a suggestion of movement, the target was hit in rapid succession, eight times without a breath in between. When it was over, she stood still, like the statue again and then the rifle lowered.
Kirsten went to press the controls to bring the target forward.
Mouths dropped open and eyes widened in awe. Corinne said with amazement, "That's…that's…amazing."
Kirsten stared at Reya with increased respect. "That's not possible…but I see it."
Each target mark had been hit two twice, almost dead centre.
Reya said, as if it were of little note, "This is the job of a sharp-shooter. Nothing amazing to it."
Vila came forward with a broad smile. "And if you believe that, I have some property on an ice planet just waiting…"
Sighing, Reya asked her charges, "Are you interested in the training?"
Corinne said enthusiastically, "I'd love to be able to do that! Vila…maybe we can include it in our act?"
Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Vila said, "That's an idea. I can think of…"
Reya sighed again in exaggerated patience at the idea that this useful and deadly skill would be used for entertainment purposes. "Vila, did you come for something?"
"Oh…yes." Suddenly he wasn't sure it was the right time. "Well…"
"Out with it, Vila."
"I ran into Argus earlier and…" It seemed silly now. "…he…growled at me. I mean, it sounded…"
"You mean that it alarmed you? It wasn't his normal behaviour?" asked Reya, instantly alarmed.
"Well…yes." He hoped that it was something or this would be embarrassing.
"Do you know where he is now?"
"He ran off to the gym."
There was tense concern on Reya's normally composed face. "Lessons are over today. I will see both of you in the gym tomorrow. 0800." She rushed out.
Vila spotted the wall chronometer, "I have to get going too. My shift today."
**********
Reya arrived at the gym only to find Lt. Dain and several of the soldiers being very industrious. They told her that Argus had gone back to his cabin for a shower.
**********
Corinne stayed in the weapons range in order to practice more.
**********
Argus set the water temperature controls in the shower to just short of frozen and turned it on.
**********
Jenna decided to make a visit to Sester's cabin. There were some issues to be resolved and she was in the mood for making someone's life miserable.
She rounded the corner and nearly ran into Kirsten.
There was a hard look on the young woman's face. "We finished the wine. There isn't any more."
"I'm not here for wine."
"Well, he's finished with you too."
"We'll see about that," said Jenna as she reached for the door panel.
**********
Cally waited until Avon settled into a restful sleep before going to see the doctors about what could be done about his eyes.
**********
After doing the regular system's checks, Vila settled on the couch and flipped through a deck of cards, trying not to fall asleep. Stifling a yawn, he glanced over at the viewscreen and bolted up in alarm. "What is that?"
Every corner of the ship was flooded with intense white light that seemed to bore through unprotected eyes straight through to the brain. Anyone who had eyes to see immediately collapsed.
Chapter Four
There must be an explanation.
Avon concentrated a still sluggish mind. * Cally? *
The darkness remained silent.
He didn't know who was in attendance but it didn't matter, he needed information. "Doctor?"
No competent medical voices answered back.
"Is anyone in the room?"
It was as if everyone had suddenly become mute. Cocking his head, Avon listened intently.
No faint sounds of aspiration. No bodies sliding in sheets. No shuffle of footwear. No click of medical instruments. The room seemed empty.
Was he still unconscious? A blind man dreaming…of being a blind man in an empty room? Had the drug taken away his imagination as well as his mind's ability to think? An involuntary shudder passed through him as Avon remembered the experience of his mind slipping away, being reduced to little more than a biological life-support system for his body. If it had not been for Cally's reassuring presence in his mind…
Unbidden fear crept in like an unwelcome guest.
There had to be a reason why Cally had not kept her promise to him. She had pledged to be here when he woke, to provide a point of reference for his drug-dulled mind.
The fact was, she was not here.
**********
Argus huddled naked and shivering in the corner of the shower room; his arms wrapped tightly, almost desperately around his chest. His muscles bunched in hard-corded knots as he fought the beast that demanded to be set free. Pained whimpers emanated from his throat, like a wounded animal in a losing battle.
Inside, the beast struggled to be free. It wanted to kill and destroy; it had been deprived too long of its pleasures.
It could not be let out. It would destroy everyone. He let out a deep-chested, howl of misery.
Fear tasted like blood.
His fear.
His blood.
The animal pulled back snarling lips and stood up, shaking the water from its damp, cold body, sending droplets flying in all directions. It reached for a dark grey towel and it tied firmly around its waist.
It was finally free.
**********
Run! Vila, Run! The expression from a children's story echoed inside Vila's head as the flotilla of angry ships came closer. Small specks becoming large moving dots of menace. His mouth was as dry as the desert sands and it hurt to swallow.
He'd only fallen asleep for a few minutes. It wasn't his fault.
They had came out of nowhere. Appearing on the screen like a nightmare suddenly coming into focus. He was alone on the flight deck. The comms didn't seem to be working. Where was everyone?
A half-recalled memory made him turn his head. "Jenna, let's run for it." Jenna was not there.
Vila sought out the man at the tactical station. "For pity's sake Avon, get this ship moving while we still have a chance!" But Avon was not there.
There was no one here, except him. No one to listen to his panicked suggestions. No one else to make the decisions. Who the hell would leave him all alone with no one else in charge?
He knew he should do something but his mind was a blank.
Run! Vila, Run! He could taste the fear in his mouth like a bitter potion that would not go down his throat. His knees were shaking so hard, they were knocking against each other.
**********
It was born to kill. It wanted to kill. It needed to rend the flesh from the bones of its enemies, to sink its fangs into unprotected throats and taste the fresh nectar of blood gushing out. Its nose twitched in anticipation of the sharp metallic scent of death.
It reached for the blade that was never far from its owner. He looked down at it in satisfaction. It was an extension of himself.
Instinct told it to arm itself with weapons that were more lethal. It had been civilized that way. A weaponized animal, trained in the armaments of war. They were its old friends.
He stalked the corridors, looking for the armoury.
**********
Vila took in a shuddered breath. He didn't know how to be brave, he only knew how to be himself.
That self felt small and very afraid.
Where were the big people to take care of him? The ones he needed to tell him what to do, make all the decisions and take responsibility? Ever since he lost his mother and found himself alone in a world that didn't care one jot about him, he had been afraid.
Avon must have been wrong. Or Servalan was lying to him. Wouldn't put it past that snake of a woman. The Federation didn't condition him to be afraid and easily led. This was who he was.
"Information. Incoming message."
Vila fled. He ran from the voice of the computer that wanted him to do something, to make a decision that would affect all of their lives. He wasn't meant to do this, he couldn't do this.
**********
The smooth metallic walls were cold to the touch as Avon felt along them, a blind man moving through the ship, trying to find someone who could give him answers.
But so far, there was no one.
He was utterly and completely alone, just as he had always wanted. A paradise without people. Or a hell where screams made no noise because there was no one there to hear them.
* Cally. *
Empty silence.
Think. Concentrate. No time for the weaknesses that others consider a necessary part of human existence.
Visualize. The layout of the ship was firmly placed in his mind. He knew every conduit, junction, control and bypass. What he didn't have were precise measurements that told him how many steps to take to the flight deck. An oversight he would rectify the moment he sorted out this problem.
He had to get to Zen. The dependable computer would have the information he required, unless it followed the obscure whims of its creators and refused to cooperate.
One of these days, he would have to reprogram that machine but for now, it was his only hope.
Fear lurked like a thief, just outside the window of his conscious mind, reminding him that he was more human than not. The remembered voice of Cally called to him; the one person he had chosen to trust even more than any computer.
He had to find out what happened to her and the rest of the crew.
There were other nagging thoughts.
Did they leave him? Abandoning him in their haste to escape some nameless horror? Paranoia ate away his confidence; a lifetime of betrayals whispering bitter nothings in his ear. Reason and sentiment wrestled for dominance in his mind, like ancient enemies.
No! Not Cally. Not Argus. They would stay to the death rather than abandon him; accompanying him into whatever void awaited them all.
Loyal, Avon's lips lifted in the beginnings of a smile, but not very smart. For them, the irrational was the logical option. Theirs was a choice that followed a predictable pattern. One that he could trust.
There was serious danger if they could be ripped from his side. They would not have done it willingly. Avon quickened his pace, stumbling as he went. It was a long way to the flight deck.
**********
The animal crouched on its haunches, ears straining, nose lifted to the recycled air. There were people onboard. Humans. Prey. A wolfish grin curled his lips as he stood up. The gun felt good in its hands as energy surged through his body. Exultation roared in his ears. It was time to hunt.
The hungry beast padded off on noiseless feet.
**********
Vila ran, faster than he thought his feet could carry him. Where is everyone?
**********
A prey went past, unaware that it was being stalked. The creature crouched and its haunches bunched, ready to pounce with a sharp, unerring burst of its weapon. It sniffed the air, mouth open to taste the fear that rolled like waves from its target.
It gathered its might and…almost fell over as the other presence inside it stiffened the leg muscles unexpectedly with a shout of, No!
The creature yelped in startled complaint. The other wanted to spoil its fun. It could feel it trying to regain control. The other did want it to kill, it was struggling…strong, like itself.
Lips peeled back as a low growl rumbled from deep in its chest. It refused to give up its hard fought freedom. Its hand tightened around the grip and took a step after the prey.
No! The leg muscles stiffened unnaturally and the creature fell to its knees. Its shoulders hunched up and it gave a deep bass howl of anger. It could feel the other was trying to do something it did not understand. The struggling was different.
No! Don't attack! It's a friend.
The creature shook its head with a modulated growl of incomprehension. It did not understand the word.
It's…part of your pack.
The creature's head tilted and it gave a short bark. Pack it understood.
Vila is one of your pack.
The creature gave a half-howl of complaint and puffed its chest out. The Vila-human smelled of fear. It did not have such members in its pack.
You're wrong. Smell again.
The creature gave a low grumble of protest, it didn't know why it was listening to the other's voice but it sniffed tentatively. Fear. It growled. But something else. The creature's nose twitched. The scent…the Vila-human was fighting the fear. It was trying to be brave and it was looking…for its leader. The creature gave an accepting half-growl. It would accept the Vila-human as part of its pack. But it would not have it running around scared. It was not seemly.
The creature huffed. It was the pack leader. The pack should not be afraid when it was around. It would protect and fight for the pack.
Good. Now go and see what's wrong.
It gave a guttural growl and rocked its head. It was the Alpha. No one gave it orders.
We both are. We don't have time for this, Vila's in trouble. The pack is in trouble. We need to find out what's wrong.
The creature gave an exhaled huff and went after Vila. It knew its responsibilities as pack leader; it didn't need to be told.
**********
The beast was swift and caught up to the fleeing Vila-human. It barked out a command for it to stop. Not surprisingly enough, when faced with a wild animal hot on his heels, Vila ran even faster. He dared not look back in case it was gaining ground or to stop and think why there would be a creature onboard in the first place.
The beast growled in annoyance. How did it end up with a pack member this dense? Even if the Vila-human did not understand the language, one did not present your back to an attacker unless you wanted to die faster. Did it not understand that? The beast shook its head; it would have to do some training of the Vila-human before it could function as a useful member of its pack.
It needed the other's voice, but it could not allow it control. The beast opened its mouth and composed its tongue, lips and teeth in the appropriate shape for human communications. "Vi-la."
The Vila-human ground to a halt.
Good. It would not have to overrun it and yank it to a stop by the scruff of its neck.
Vila turned around fearfully, like a nervous animal ready to bolt. "Argus?" His eyes bulged at the nearly nude man who for some reason seemed larger than life and was staring at him with a wolf-like expression. Ready to eat him? "Why…are you dressed…or not dressed…like that?"
"Vi-la." The pack leader had more pressing matters than to answer such frivolous questions. It asked, "Why…are…you…run-ning?"
"Eh?" The creature saw that Vila was relaxing though there was still a nervous look in his eyes and also a look of confusion.
Did the Vila-human not understand its own speech?
You're stuttering. You need to give me more control.
A low negative growl rumbled in its chest.
At least let me speak to Vila. He's supposed to be on flight deck duty. Our territory might be in danger.
The creature was immediately alarmed. Enemies in its territory was unacceptable. It opened its mouth to speak again.
"Vila, what's…happened? Why aren't you…on the flight deck?"
Vila's eyes lowered. "There's a fleet out there. It's coming this way. I didn't know what to do."
Danger! Enemies!
Ready power filled the creature's body, its mind and senses clear and alert. The pack needed to be protected. Enemies were waiting to be vanquished. The two acted as one as a fierce growl erupted from its lips and the Argus-Wolf raced towards the flight deck.
Chapter Five
Jenna woke up in a tangle of arms and legs. For a moment, she was confused. There were several too many.
Was it a nightmare? Had she been discarded as too old? In a pile of body parts?
A shudder of disgust overtook her and her queasy stomach threatened to lose its contents.
Groan.
That wasn't her. It was then that she saw Kirsten's face nearby. From this proximity, she could personally appreciate the smooth beauty of young, unblemished skin and the complete lack of makeup.
It was hideous.
She pushed Kirsten away from her with an unhappy frown and a hard shove. The exhibitionist. Parading around with no beauty aids just to show off.
I'm not that old. She felt her face to reassure herself that there were only a few telltale lines. One. Two. Three. Four. What? Five. Six. S…she dropped her hands from a face that had betrayed her and shuffled back in horror.
Kirsten groaned again and stirred. Her eyes opened and she looked up in confusion when she registered where she was. She spotted Jenna.
The last thing she remembered…they had been about to enter Sester's cabin. Or rather, Jenna had been attempting to and she… "Did we have a fight?"
The words registered through the shock of Jenna's descent into a merciless world where beauty was a tyrant.
"Did we…" Jenna looked around in confusion. They were both on the ground, in front of Sester's cabin. They must have been fighting…and knocked each other out? It didn't seem possible and she didn't feel sore anywhere…but… The last thing she remembered was reaching for the door panel and Kirsten about to stop her.
The two women got up slowly, keeping their eyes warily on each other.
Kirsten glanced at the closed door. Beyond it was a man that she had great interest in. He was fun, exciting and she loved teasing him. Many feelings between them had not yet been explored but they were in no hurry.
There was always another emotion, a niggling voice, at the back of her mind, one which was loud and clear now. It was giving her troubling thoughts and filling her with fear.
She had a secret fear about her attraction to Sester. Was it because they were naturally drawn to each other? Or was there another, desperate reason?
What if my father was right? How could I possibly think that I can compete with a man? Sester must consider me a fool. I'm no match for him. I'm just fooling myself.
I'm not worth anything. I can't survive on my own. What if these people find out? Will they throw me off the ship? I don't have any use here. I don't have a role.
Father said that without a man, a woman is nothing.
The only thing Kirsten knew was that she needed Sester and no one was going to take him away from her.
Jenna stared hard at the door. Sester was an Alpha like her. Rich, powerful, respected, even feared, and he had shown clear interest in her.
She had fought most of her life to be an independent woman. With her own ship and her own crew.
Now, she was nothing and she had nothing. No more money. Every credit had been surrendered to repay the people of Athol.
No more friends. Rane had turned his back on her and she didn't blame him.
Those in the rebellion, Avalon and the others treated her as a pariah.
She was barely tolerated on the Justice and she doubted if she would survive long on her own. Servalan would not forgive her for damaging her precious asset.
Jenna felt old and obsolete on a ship of young upstarts. She could imagine the whispers behind her back.
The only one who seemed to appreciate her for herself was Sester. He was a psychostrategist. They were universally feared and respected. Very few could match their intelligence. To have someone like him interested in her would prove that she wasn't past her prime.
They were very much alike, outsiders on the ship, barely tolerated. He was what she needed. The two of them belonged together. She reached for the panel.
"No!" Kirsten grabbed at her hand. "He's mine!"
"No, he's mine!"
The two women began wrestling as the door opened.
**********
"Kirsten, Jenna…" Sester backed away from the two advancing women. There was a ravenous look in their eyes that did not seem very healthy for him. They were wild-eyed and dishevelled and his room didn't look big enough for both of them.
Fear gripped his heart and constricted his throat.
His mind was not analyzing, not making any suggestions, could not see anything beyond what his eyes told him. His hands went to his head, as if to confirm that it was still attached to the rest of him.
It was there physically, but everything of importance was…gone.
All of it vanished. The knowledge and skills of the puppeteer, his superior mind, that which set him apart…he was ordinary. His master would not be pleased. The Guildmaster would throw him away as he did with others.
Two beautiful and determined women and here he was without his mind to handle them. He should be enjoying this but instead, Sester felt distressingly naked and vulnerable. Panic made him keep backing up even though there was nowhere to go.
Sester wanted to say something. He knew that he normally would have. Something witty to diffuse the situation or make them all glare at him with consternation or roll their eyes. Anything to break this awkwardness. But his word-starved lips had nothing to say. No droll thoughts to entertain himself or others. Thoughts were moving slower than molasses through a block of ice.
His mind could not think of any games.
Numbing fear and emptiness paralyzed him and his carefully crafted world collapsed around his ears.
The back of his legs hit the edge of the bunk and he fell unceremoniously backwards. His normal self would swear, with a twinkle in his eyes, that it was accidentally-on-purpose. But nothing came to him. His mind seemed frozen.
Jenna immediately fell on him, tearing at his clothes, her mouth devouring his. Sester desperately tried to keep his shirt on.
"Hey, I was here first!" Kirsten grabbed Jenna by the shoulders and yanked her back, sending her spiralling away. She sat down next to him and asked, "Are you alright?"
Holding his torn shirt together, Sester looked into her eyes…and couldn't tell anything. The panic increased. He had to get out of here. Kirsten was…important to him. He might say something wrong and that terrified him.
This situation demanded words from him but he couldn't think of any. All he had were overwhelming feelings that he normally parlayed into a game. With hesitant fingers, he reached up and gently traced Kirsten's lips. He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips touching hers softly as if she were a delicate flower that needed care. Her lips parted invitingly.
No. He couldn't do this without his mind. He might do something wrong. Sester couldn't believe it but he pushed her gently away. "I…can't do this, Kirsten. Not right now."
There was a hurt look in her eyes that made him want to kick himself. He had to get out of here before he could hurt her anymore. Before Kirsten or Jenna could stop him, he leaped off the bed and ran out.
**********
Reya didn't know what she was doing going to Sester's cabin. When she regained consciousness in the gym, her legs had automatically led her in this direction.
No, that wasn't true. She did know why she was here. It was a reason that frightened her and warmed her insides, filling her with longing that should only be for one man. The moist desire of her body betrayed her. Her fevered flesh yearned for this man's skilful fingers to touch her, to make her moan with pleasure in spite of her will, as he once did.
There had been the pretext of circumstance then, a situation beyond her control. Now, need drove her. An insatiable desire. And fear. She didn't have time to identify if it was love or pure animal lust. It didn't matter. The need was overwhelming and her mind could contain no other thoughts.
**********
Avon had stopped moving.
This junction should not be here. The hard straight edge beneath his fingers did not lie. He retraced the layout of the ship in his mind. His fist hit the metal surface. This can't be right.
Lesser minds might panic but Avon refused to. There had to be a reason. Had his drug-muddled mind confused the directions? Was there a miscalculation of distance? Had he miscounted the corridors?
That had to be it.
His mind refused to accept any crazy notions that this might not be the same ship. The reality was already disturbing enough. He was blind and alone and he had no idea where he was.
Avon had tried the comms but none of them worked. He thought he'd heard animal sounds earlier but concluded that his ears had been playing tricks on him. They must have been ambient sounds from the ship that a sighted man rarely noticed.
**********
The corridors were a blur as Sester ran, like a man escaping from a nameless horror. Unfortunately, when that horror was you, no amount of running seemed enough.
Oomph! Sester ran headlong into Reya. His legs buckled in stunned shock as she held him up. He said, "Sorry…I didn't expect…"
"Didn't you?" asked Reya with a faint smile. "I seem to recall that you like arranging meetings in corridors."
"I…did…"
Her warm manner and the supportive hands around his shoulders, that were wandering downwards, should have warned him.
"You were right."
"I…was?" he asked confused. "About what?"
"I can't stay away from you. I…" Reya knew she shouldn't be saying this. She should not be doing this but she couldn't help it. Desire was compelling her. "…need you." With a speed that always amazed Argus, she had his shirt off and her hands were roaming across his chest.
Sester's mouth dropped open as he looked down. He grabbed her hands. After kissing Kirsten, this didn't seem right. "Reya…" But he had wanted this woman for a long time. His body remembered his need for her. With his hands on her wrists, he spread her arms and pinioned them against the wall. His mouth crushed hers in a passionate kiss. Their bodies pressed tightly together, his need rising hard. He let go and began removing her shirt, sliding it slowly down her body. Her hands curled around his neck and she arched back as his lips found the hollow of her throat. "Uh…"
**********
The engineering section? Avon thought in frustration and disgust at his own inability to find the flight deck. This is on the wrong side of the ship.
The large cavernous feel and the steady hum of the spatial distort engines could not be a mistake. He couldn't believe that he had been turned around so badly in his own mind-picture of the ship. The evidence of his ears could not lie. He had to accept that he was in the engine room.
Computers. There were auxiliary computers here that connected directly to the battle and navigation controllers on the flight deck. The comms might not be working but this was the next best alternative.
Avon felt his way along the walls. "Is anyone here?" he asked out of habit. Silence greeted him.
Fluidic distribution panel. He carefully identified each station, trying to avoid touching any buttons by mistake. That would not be wise in this room.
Antimatter stream monitor. A warning beep made him jerk his hand away.
Several more stations and he found what he was feeling for. Practiced fingers pressed several controls. "Computer, are you receiving information from the flight deck controllers?"
"Confirmed."
He asked, "Am I the only person onboard this ship?"
"Information not available."
His voice rose in frustration, "What do you mean, 'information not available'?"
"Current data is unavailable."
"That's not what I'm asking. I want to know why the information is unavailable."
"Internal scanners are inoperative."
After what had seemed, several frustrating hours trying to locate the flight deck, Avon was not in a good mood. "Why didn't you say that in the first place! Do you know why the scanners are out?"
"Information is not…"
Avon snapped, "I know, it's not available. Tell me something more useful."
"Internal communications have also been disabled."
He hit the panel. "I already know that."
The computer fell silent.
Avon pushed down exasperated emotions and tried to regain control. He was certain the computer had the information he needed; he just needed the right questions. "Alright, computer. How long have the internal comm and scanners been disabled?"
The computer replied, "Two hours forty-one minutes."
Avon didn't like the sounds of that. Anything could have happened in that time and most likely did. "Almost three hours."
"Confirmed."
"Has anyone tried to board the ship?"
"Negative."
"Are the external scanners working?"
"All external scanners are working within operational parameters."
"Good. Bring long-range scanners online. Full orbital scan."
"Confirmed." A few nervous seconds passed. "A flotilla of eight ships has surrounded the Justice."
Avon's heart began pounding loudly in his chest. He shouted, "Computer, battle and navigation computers online! Bring up the force wall!"
"Battle and navigation computers are currently online. Force wall is already activated."
He thought aloud, "Then there must be someone on the flight deck."
"Information is incorrect. The Zen controller activated the battle and navigation computers when there was no human intervention."
Avon froze for a moment. "There was no one on the flight deck?"
"The Zen computer reports that there were no humans on the flight deck when it took pre-emptive action."
His mind raced as he processed this information. The revelation that there was no one on the flight deck was the least of his current problems. There were more pressing dangers.
"What a minute. We're surrounded?"
"That is correct."
"And the battle and navigation computers are online?"
"Confirmed."
"Then why have there been no…the ships haven't fired on us?"
"Confirmed."
There were several reasons, most of which were not good. The Justice was a valuable prize. "Are the navigation computers able to plot an escape course?"
"Battle and navigation computers report that all possible flight paths fall within weapons range of enemy ships."
"Then we're stuck."
"Confirmed."
Why haven't the ships made a move against us? "Computer, can you identify the ships?"
"Available data classifies them as seven Mark II pursuit ships and one Sigma class heavy battle cruiser."
Avon exclaimed, "Federation?"
"Confirmed."
Even on the Liberator, they had never run across a heavy battle cruiser. He had witnessed them in action during the alien invasion. A single one was formidable. With the support of other ships, even with its superior speed, the Justice was in trouble. The situation was quickly deteriorating from bad to worse.
"Information."
On the other hand, bad was a relative term.
