Avon prowled the corridors, ever watchful for guards or scanners. Silently he crept, blaster in hand poised as he mentally retraced the map which Orac had supplied earlier of this Federation research installation. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong about the whole situation. The sooner he did what he had to, the better.
"Has he called in yet?" Tarrant demanded, bounding onto Scorpio's flight deck.
"No. Whatever shielding is preventing teleport contact could be interfering with communications, also, " Soolin replied.
"Orac did warn us about that possibility, Tarrant," Dayna snapped, irritated at the way he seemed to think he was in charge whenever Avon left.
"Orac says the patrol that escorted Ramsey's shuttle is due to arrive back in two hours. If he hasn't called in by then, we leave." Tarrant didn't look too unhappy about stranding Avon in the middle of the base.
"Before we break orbit, put me down," Soolin said. Two pairs of startled eyes turned to stare at the blonde gunfighter.
"You have a sudden death wish?" from Tarrant.
"If you're going to play hide and seek with a patrol, I'd take my chances on the ground, too," Dayna quipped.
"We can't teleport Avon, or call him. By putting me down at the original co-ordinates outside the shield, I can go in and provide back up. When you return for us, we'll be at those co-ordinates for pick up." 'Or at least I will,' she added silently.
"Alert. All personnel to stations - scanners detect intruder." The klaxons sounded. Abandoning all pretense at stealth, Avon ran for the Controller's suite, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone else heading that way. 'Damn that patrol!' he thought savagely. They had been shadowing Ramsey's ship for days from Pentel VI to this outpost. They had lost a precious twenty minutes when the escort showed up to conduct Ramsey to his new assignment at the base. Using the lock pick from his boot he skillfully manipulated the mechanism and planted a kick firmly on the door bursting it open. "Quite still!" he barked at the room's sole occupant. Closing and locking the door behind him, Avon advanced toward the man at the desk.
"Who are you?" The Controller demanded.
"The one with the gun," Avon replied, searching for surveillance devises. Satisfied that the rooms were not monitored, he approached Ramsey directly.
"My men will be here any moment to receive instructions, put down that blaster!" Ramsey blurted out.
Ramsey was sweating heavily and darting glances at the comm unit on his desk. Slowly Avon brought the barrel of the blaster to rest against Ramsey's temple. "There is going to be a rebel attack. Order your people to alert status," Avon commanded. Nervously, the Controller complied, ordering all personnel to don protective clothing and chemical masks immediately, and to wear them for the duration of the emergency. Intent upon the hastily concocted speech, Ramsey didn't see Avon reverse his hold on the blaster.
"What now?" he asked as he clicked the comm link off. In answer, Avon struck the Controller with the butt of the gun and dragged him away from the desk. Dropping his burden, Avon crossed to the wardrobe and selected a copy of the plain black military issue jumpsuit Ramsey had on. While changing, he caught sight of his victim's gold chain and Federation medallion around his neck. He transferred the jewellry from the Controller to himself, then crossed to the emergency cabinet to remove the chem mask. With the mask fastened in place, his head and neck were completely covered, effectively hiding his identity and distorting his voice. Even the slight difference in height and build seemed to even out. Good.
According to the plans that Orac had electronically appropriated, there should be a bolthole behind the wall which would contain the secondary living quarters and additional food supplies. A secure hide-a-way in case of attack. Avon dragged Ramsey into the hidden suite of rooms and slid the wall panel back in to place, locking it from his side. 'Now to see if this plan can work,' he thought to himself. Taking Ramsey's place at the desk, he flipped the outer door lock control to admit the guards.
After eating, Avon opened the bolthole again to interrogate Ramsey. All he managed to learn was that the Pylene-50 compound was in the safe on an antiquated computer disc. The intercom signalled and Ramsey made a lunge for the desk. Mid yell Avon broke the man's neck by reflex. Moving quickly, he hit the comm switch.
"Railex here, sir. We've got one!" the excited voice continued to yell into the link. "She's en route to Interrogation."
"Good work, Railex. Keep me informed as to the situation. Out." He sat motionless, weighing the feeling of temporary security against the knowledge that it must be either Dayna or Soolin in trouble. Sighing, he rose and crossed to the mirror., After replacing the mask and checking himself for the third time, Avon decided to risk leaving the Controller's quarters and find his way to the Interrogation Centre.
The two guards on duty saluted Avon's insignia crisply as he entered. Watching impassively, he stood to one side as Soolin was questioned and struck repeatedly across the shoulders and back of her head.
"Who sent you?"
"No one, I wanted a walk." Soolin tried to force a laugh at her own joke.
"Your ship was following the Controller's here. Why?" The question was punctuated by several blows.
"Maybe I was lost, and I followed the only available ship into port." He backhanded her. What he lacked in interrogation experience, he made up for in enthusiasm. Blood ran down from her nose and several gouges in her scalp.
"I'll ask you again. Why did you follow the ship?"
Soolin gasped in pain and doubled over as far as the men holding her arms would allow. Taking that for more defiance, the interrogator began beating her about the back and ribs. Blood ran from her nose, splattering over the floor in a wide array of crimson droplets.
"Don't damage her further," Avon commanded.
"You find this one interesting, Controller?"
"Yes. I will break her myself. For now, let the pain persuade her to co-operate." Avon tried his best to imitate the speech patterns and tone from his brief encounter with Ramsey. He could hear the interrogator's smirk in his tone underneath the now mandatory chem mask.
"Arrangements other than immediate execution, then?"
Confused, Avon nodded yes.
"Pity, the others were trying to decide who would get her after the interrogation." He strapped a chem mask onto the unresisting rebel.
Avon's manner dismissed the guards and he turned sharply back to "his" quarters. Putting the base's defenses on computer control he resumed work on the safe. The door signalled again and Avon admitted the guards dragging a semi-conscious Soolin. Affecting an air of nonchalance, he waved them to put her on the chair by the desk, and he turned back to the computer terminal. They secured her to the chair with cruel plastic strapping which bit into her wrists and caused them to bleed. She emitted strangled, outraged sounds through the gag under her mask. The security leader placed a vial on the desk.
"If she resists..." he began, indicating the vial of liquid. Avon nodded and turned his attention to the guard who was pulling against the restraints, testing them. Avon heard him whisper as he leaned close to Soolin's ear, "Too bad you came to the attention of the Controller. I had plans for you..." Feeling Avon's gaze upon him, he abruptly straightened and the group left, closing the door behind them. Avon swivelled in the chair to face his guest. He couldn't believe his luck so far. If it weren't such a deadly situation, it would be funny. Kerr Avon, the new Controller of a Federation installation in weapons research and development.
He rose to his feet and came toward her.
Soolin saw him stop in front of the chair, regarding her silently. What was he waiting for? Her vision blurred, then focussed again. Soolin felt tears begin to coalesce in her eyes. 'Stop it!' she told herself firmly. She regained her icy shell and tried to distance herself from what would happen next. The odds are better now, she reasoned, only one to deal with and she didn't see signs of surveillance. Her resolve to stay calm fled as the Controller reached out to unfasten her mask.
At his touch she felt herself go numb, mind and body, and her breath caught in her throat in a half-sob. He was standing in front of her, she wondered briefly why such an obviously important man had a uniform that didn't fit right- too loose across his waist and hips. She also had a quick flash of when she was a child, after her family had been shot and one of the men who had killed them forcing her to...
The tears came unbidden. She realised that the confining mask was on the floor next to her feet, the air feeling cool as it touched her face. His hand was surprisingly warm and gentle as he stroked her hair, two fingers softly brushing the tears on her cheek. Damn it! She was not a child this time, she'd fight him, find some way to knock him out, and find Avon and escape. Avon... he had to be dead. There had been no other prisoners aside from her. The probability that he could still remain free after all this time was impossible low. He was not about to walk through the door and save her from this...
He was kneeling in front of her, arms reaching around to untie the gag. She felt it loosen and he pulled it away.
She spit in his face, unfortunately his mask was still in place. But it was the symbolism of the act which gave Soolin courage. He stopped, hands resting on her shoulders.
"That's no way to treat your commanding officer, Soolin."
It was her turn to be startled. He withdrew his hands and unfastened his own mask.
"Avon! How...?" It was him. Hair mussed and condensation from the mask beading his face but it was still him.
She felt him move away from her and heard him pick up something. He returned and cut the bonds. She tried to stand and fell forward, her vision fading to a dull red-grey. He steadied her, as circulation resumed in her arms and legs.
"Will you be all right?" he asked, concerned.
"I don't know. It's as if there was a lot of blood in my eyes, covering what I can see," she replied slowly.
"Can you see this?" Avon asked, holding up three fingers in front of her.
"No, only shadows, shades of grey, mostly."
Avon said nothing as he helped her to the freshening room. Positioning towels on the counter and placing her hand on the faucet control, he then left her to her own devices.
Reseating himself at Ramsey's desk, he considered his options. He could try to get some medical help for Soolin, but a small outpost such as this was usually lucky if they had a med-tech, let alone a surgeon. It would also be difficult to explain such preferential treatment for a captured saboteur.
He could try to make their escape now in the confusion. The safe shouldn't take that long to unlock and retrieve the disc containing the chemical make-up of Pylene-50. But again, how to explain dragging a dazed, half-blinded prisoner through the installation and then out through the ventilation ducts.
The last resort would be to carry on the charade a little longer. Aside from the shuttle pilot and whomever was hanging around the landing pad, the base personnel had not seen on their new controller. He would, though, have to keep the pretense of a planned rebel attack going, preferring the security that the concealing mask afforded. Orac had been very helpful when it had researched the activity in this sector. During the last six months the base had been attacked with chemical weapons five times, with not one rebel captured. That was probably one of the reasons a seasoned officer like Ramsey had been assigned here. His specialty, after all, had been chemical warfare.
A sharp clatter came from Soolin's direction. Going to her he found soapy water covering a good deal of the tiled floor. She was in a crouched position, one hand holding onto the counter, the other searching through the slippery mess.
"Stop that!" Avon ordered, uncomfortable at the sight of the usually cool and aloof professional gunslinger sloshing about in the water. Of all the thoughts he'd ever had of Soolin, helpless wasn't one of them.
Stepping carefully, he led her into the main quarters, setting her on the edge of the bed. "Now stay there." He turned back to the problem of the safe. He opened the wardrobe door and retrieved the small packet of acid gum from his clothing. Quickly he unwrapped the gum and began filling in the edges of the safe with the substance, pushing it into the seams. Satisfied that the acid reaction would soon eat through the connecting hinges on the door, he strode back to the sink in the freshening room to wash any residue off of his hands.
"What are you doing, Avon?" Soolin called from the bed.
"My job," he replied, not in the mood for interference.
Walking back into the room, he saw that the gum had done its work and the structural integrity of the safe had been breached. With a little more time he would succeed with retrieving the disc and then try to reach the rendezvous point with Soolin in tow. Soolin had said that Tarrant would take the ship out of orbit in two hours to hide from the returning patrol. There wasn't much time left out of those two hours, and he didn't think he could continue posing as Ramsey for much longer. The base security couldn't be that lax, could it? He began his work on the safe.
Avon walked purposefully down the corridor gripping Soolin's arm in one hand and effectively covering her with a blaster in the other. No challenges from passing guards so far. A little further and they would reach the series of ducts which led out of the dome and to the rendezvous point. The klaxons went off again.
'Damn it! What does Tarrant think he is doing?' Avon thought angrily.
"He's going to get us both killed," Soolin echoed his thought out loud.
"Remind me to have a talk with him when we're back aboard the Scorpio," he replied, pulling her into a doorway. The lights flickered out to be replaced with ominous maroon lighting.
"I can't see, Avon!" Soolin hissed in panic.
"They must have taken out the generators, we've gone to emergency lighting. You can't see anything now?" he asked.
"Not in this light. Avon, the air has stopped. Why would Tarrant risk himself to disable the base when the ships are due back anytime now? It doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense if Tarrant isn't the one responsible."
"But who?" she asked in a low whisper.
"I don't want to wait around and find out. This way." He moved out into the corridor again. Moving cautiously in the dim lighting, he searched for movement up ahead. A strange fog was highlighted by the red lighting, making it seem almost alive as it billowed down the corridor. Checking his and Soolin's masks carefully, Avon continued into the poisonous cloud.
"There's someone coming from behind," Soolin warned.
"Down!" Avon replied, dropping to the floor with Soolin following suit. As quickly as they could, the two crawled toward the far end of the corridor. The sounds of blasters discharging echoed throughout the base. When they had finally reached the far wall after what seemed like hours, Avon reached up and began removing the clips which held the grille in place over the ventilation shaft. The shooting intensified as the people coming from behind met the other group further ahead in the joining corridor.
"Hurry, Avon!" Soolin yelled to be heard over the rapidly escalating blaster fire. Suddenly, she felt Avon stiffen and sink back to the floor. There was no time to check on him. Soolin hefted the grille away from the opening and climbed into the duct. Turning over onto her stomach, she felt down to where Avon lay crumpled against the wall. With no time to be gentle she grabbed hold of the shoulder of his jumpsuit with one hand and got a strong grip on his hair with the other. Pulling as hard as she could and bracing with her legs against the confines of the duct she managed to pull Avon completely into the shaft. Soolin then began to inch backward down the slight decline dragging Avon after her by his clothing.
Soolin fought to remain steady. In the duct, as in the emergency lighting, she saw nothing. Even her perception of shadows would have been preferable to the complete darkness closing in around her. She felt that she was making far too much noise bringing both of them through the duct. Her knees and arms felt bruised, and she kept double checking in her mind's eye the plans of the duct system, feeling for side openings as they went along. Loud shouting echoed down the duct. Someone had found their escape route. She tried to increase her speed. Burdened by Avon she didn't know if she could reach the outside before her pursuers caught them. She didn't want to pause long enough to determine if it was a corpse she was risking her life for, and not a comrade. 'Either I leave him here and just go on, or I don't. What's wrong, Soolin,' she told herself forcefully, 'you've never had a problem making decisions before...'
"To hell with it all," she said out loud, "You didn't leave me, did you?" She redoubled her efforts, now rewarded by the feel of a cooling breeze against her sweaty neck and hands. Looking toward what she perceived as forward, she saw small glints of light and colours. Reaching the outer grille, she clawed frantically at the catches. Once outside this last boundary, they could teleport up to safety. shoving the protesting grille away from the mouth of the duct, Soolin pulled herself out, taking an instant to reach for the teleport bracelet clasped around her ankle under her jumpsuit. "Scorpio, come in."
"Setting co-ordinates now, Soolin. Did you find Avon?" Vila asked.
"Wait!" she commanded. Turning back to the shadowy opening of the duct she reached in and pulled the computer tech out. The pursuers were almost at the end of the duct. Getting a solid grip under his arms she told Vila to teleport leaving only shadows to greet the pursuers.