Nova checked and double checked her P90, making sure there was no sabotage. Everything was as it should be. Chen was busy prepping his HK MP7. Even their newly equipped plasma-tipped rounds seemed fine. Corin holstered his pistol without even taking a look at it. Martin, on the other hand, was impatiently tapping his foot. He got his berretta back but he usually carried an ion rifle. But his jaw dropped when Krell came marching up with an ion rifle in hand.
"I believe you will be wanting this," the alien replied, giving the rifle to Martin. Charles looked at the energy weapon in surprise. But there was something more to the rifle. "I was told that your specialty is sniping. Ion rifles are capable of receiving a number of attachments; so, I had a scope attached to this one for you."
Martin looked at the rifle, holding it up and admiring it in the light. Martin aimed the weapon at the sky and looked through the scope. It may be small but it was functional. But there was one more thing to it. Krell reached over and held in a button and pushed the flipped the scope to the side of the rifle, the button clicking back into place the moment the lens was off to the side. He did it again, pushing in the button and pulling the scope back up, the lens clicking firmly into place. He finally did it one last time, clicking the scope to the side of the rifle; they probably weren't going to need it any time soon.
The Ror'char really wanted them to succeed. They had given back everything taken. They were all geared up, tactical vests and everything. Even their GDO's.
They all looked at the silver stargate, ready for the mission.
"We don't care how you do it," Krell reminded. "Just get the job done, then meet us on this planet." Krell handed Nova a scrap of paper, six symbols scribbled on it. "It's an uninhabited planet with docile wildlife. Meet us there once you are done."
Nova gave a stiff nod as she folded up the paper
"You're sure confident that we won't just gate back to Millennium once we're through," Nova pointed out. Krell gave a smile at how observant she was.
"It is true, we putting our faith in your honor," he replied. "But, you'll have to investigate to save your friends. And you'll need our help to free the slaves. I don't think you'll be leaving them to their fate, will you?"
Nova didn't react to this statement but she knew he was right. They weren't going to leave their Expedition team and they weren't leaving the slaves behind.
"Dial it up!" Krell ordered. The trooper at the DHD obeyed and began to press the silver buttons on the pedestal. The giant ring roared to life, the inner ring spinning to find each chevron, the egg-shaped rings locking down to engage each symbol. The last chevron was locked in, the silver ring filled with a shimmering blue wall of water what rushed forth before being sucked back in.
Nova looked at her teammates. This certainly wasn't their usual way to start a mission but it worked.
"Wolf Pack," she said. "Roll out."
-.-
For a place classified as a lawless town of pirates, thugs, thieves, and mercenaries, it sure was cheerful. The moment they stepped out of the gate, Nova heard music fill her ears. It sounded like someone was playing an accordion somewhere in the distance. The buildings were tattered but brightly painted, the walls of the houses white and their tiled roofs often orange. It was a rather simple small town with traders lined up along the streets with their tents with tables full of items to buy, most of them stolen. Along with stands selling strange foods and jewelry, there were small shops selling mechanical parts, furniture, even weapons.
Nova stopped in front of the stand selling alien weaponry, her eyes widening in interest. Plasma casters, thermobaric cannons, kinetic crossbows, concussion pistols, these small shops had them all. The guns were lined up at the front like a display case.
"Easy, Major," Martin teased. "I don't think we were given enough keys to buy that."
"Say!" the human trader called out, his hands coming out of his vest pockets. "That's a nice ion rifle you got there. Been killing Ror'char troopers lately?" The trader slid his tray of weapons forward and into the sunlight. "Is there anything you want for it?"
Martin looked at the tray of alien weapons before taking a step back and clinging to his gun almost like a mother clinging onto a child.
"Guys," Corin chirped. "Let's stick to why we came here." He and Chen walked away without another word. Nova gave Martin a nod, the silent order to follow, and they both went with them, leaving the shopkeeper grumbling in anger.
Normally, walking around an alien civilization with guns were often looked down upon by their hosts. SG mission reports always told how their alien hosts would always request they be disarmed and the SG team would insist on keeping the weapons to protect themselves. But here, no one seemed to care. They weren't exactly all carrying weapons but they did spot a few and the guns did come in a wide variety everything from simple swords to a icthyan carrying what looked like a rocket launcher on his back.
"You ok, Corin?" Nova asked when he saw Corin squirm uncomfortably.
"It's ok," he said. "It's just that…the Ror'char keep a tight control on anything that could be considered a weapon."
"You're the American among us," Chen remarked. "You can handle this one." Nova gave Chen an irritated stare. Three of them were from different countries and one of them was from a different planet. This meant different political beliefs from all of them and the last thing she needed was them arguing about politics now.
"Let's focus on the task at hand," Nova said. "This is where Loadstone vanished. We need to take precautions to make sure we don't meet the same fate." She looked around, trying to figure out what to do next. "Let's hit the tavern," she suggested. "We'll ask around, see if anyone saw anything." Chen and Corin could only give a nod. It's not like they had a better idea what to do.
"Good plan, but where's the tavern?" Corin asked. The four of them looked around but they all realized that none of them knew where they had to go. Martin was also looking around. That's when he spotted something, or rather someone, in the distance.
"What the…" he muttered, his eyes narrowing. The streets were crowded but not stuffed and in the distance he could see someone standing there. Everyone else was moving about but this one person was standing there, staring at them. Martin couldn't get a face; it was concealed under a decent sized hood, the rest of the body hidden by a gray long coat. He just stood there, staring at them.
"Martin," Nova said, putting her hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced at her but when he looked back, the figure was gone. Nova didn't know what was wrong but Martin usually had pretty good instincts when it came to this.
"You see something?" she asked.
"Not sure," Martin replied. "Just…" He remembered Krell explaining the situation to them back at the base. Even if this place looked upbeat, it was still a pirate haven. Slavers could be around any corner. "I think we need to be careful."
-.-
This whole planet was new for Martin and Nova. Back in the Milky Way and Pegasus, the civilizations they ran into were primitives. The people would live in wood and straw huts. Here, this place seemed like a mesh of advanced, modern, and old technology. After a few more minutes of walking they left the market district and entered what seemed like the business district. The vendors and their stalls were gone, small convenience stores along the side of the street now.
"You think this is it?" Chen announced, staring at one of the larger buildings, staring across its patio and into the bar inside. Chen probably would've thought it was just a bar if it wasn't for the three extra stories above it. It was definitely one of the larger buildings in the haven and it looked like it was located in the center of town. Granted they didn't know any locations in the haven but this clearly looked like an important spot.
Nova, Martin, and Corin stepped up beside him, also staring at the building.
"Might as well give it a try," Nova said. She took the lead, P90 cradled in hand, she walked up to the front door and opened it. She thought about the villages in the Milky Way and Pegasus. If they ever walked into a bar of town hall, the entire room was fall silent and stare at them. But here, maybe about three people looked their direction. The rest of the room minded their business.
"Such a warm welcome," Chen remarked.
The tavern was pretty well lit. Along with the sunlight coming through the windows, the lights in the ceiling and the fireplace gave it some extra light. The main floor was lined with tables and chairs with a number of people busy eating and chatting. A little lounge area was arranged at the side for those who weren't there to eat. A hallway near the back looked like it led to the bathrooms. A dimly lit corner near the back had a few tables set up but was largely unoccupied.
"Corin, how many races are there in this galaxy?" Martin had to ask. He was still used Milky Way's overwhelming human population. Being in the Ror'char base and now being in a pirate haven, he had seen more races than he even knew existed.
"More than I can count," Nevec replied casually. "It isn't like this back in Milky Way?"
"It's mostly humans because of the Goa'uld," Nova answered. She looked around, trying to decide what to do next. They had just spend half an hour walking around, doing nothing. "Alright, teams of two. Steven with Corin, ask people around town. Martin with me; we'll see what people here know"
-.-
Part of her was second guessing the choice to put the two military officers into one pair. She knew Chen was more than capable of fighting but it still felt wrong. All she could do was put faith in her friend's fighting abilities.
"How should we do this, Major?" Martin asked.
"Well, don't know if you noticed but if you look around," she remarked, gesturing to the entirety of the room. "Our uniforms kinda stand out in a crowd."
"So we go around and ask if anyone's seen anyone that looks like us," Martin concluded. "That makes sense." He looked around the tavern. He had to start somewhere. He walked up to a ragged-looking icthyan sitting at the bar counter.
A race of amphibians, icthyans may be humanoid but that's where their similarities end. They still have the same scaly skin as any other fish as well as webbed hands and feet. They don't have hair but they do have a row, sometimes two or three rows, of barbed fins on their head. Nova never did find out if they had ear lobes since they had another set of fins where their ears are. Even their face wasn't human, a fish-head atop its neck.
"Whaddup, mate," Martin greeted, plopping on a stool beside the purple-scaled alien. "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Can I ask why?" the icthyan asked suspiciously, his hand drifting into his vest. Martin kept his smile but he could feel the adrenaline shoot into his body as he realized what the fish-man was reaching for. Charles's hand instinctively drifted toward the ion rifle.
"Take it easy," Nova spoke up, walking up to the two. "Some of our friends came here a few days ago. We just want to know if you've seen them. They should've been wearing the same uniforms as us."
"You're new to the piracy business aren't you?" the icthyan remarked. At the very least, he moved his hand out of his vest so he could grasp the shot glass in front of him and pour the orange liquid down his throat.
"Don't fish die when they drink?" Martin hissed to Nova. A bit too loudly it seemed like. The icthyan slammed his glass down, his hand going back into his vest.
"Easy now," Nova warned, pointing her gun at the man. The icthyan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. After a moment he gave an irritated sigh.
"If you're looking for someone then you should probably ask a regular around here," he suggested. "Try the barkeeper, he might know something. Now..." Nova tensed when the icthyan pulled his hand out of his vest pulling out not a gun but a pipe to smoke and a lighter. "If you excuse me." He put the pipe between his thick lips so he could light the leaves inside, his webbed hand covering the flame.
"Be wary when in a pirate haven," the icthyan said, getting to his feet. "It is the place anyone can get anything…anything…even people. Always be on your toes; your friends made that mistake."
Nova and Martin whipped around when they heard this.
"Wait!" Nova barked but it was too late. The icthyan stepped out the front door. Nova rushed after him, practically falling on her face as she leapt outside, but it was too late. The fish man had already disappeared into the crowd outside. Nova stepped back into the tavern, shaking her head at Martin. She stiffly walked back to the counter. It felt like her heart was going to shatter.
"Bugger!" Martin cursed. A source of information was right in front of them and they let it slip between their fingers.
"We're close," Nova growled. "We just need to look closer."
-.-
It really was a cheerful place outside. The music coming from the street performers was upbeat and the people were really friendly. It wasn't just a passerby saying hi but people giving suggestions on what they should do here.
"You should lose the uniforms next time; it gives people the wrong impression."
"Don't let those guns out of your sight. Things grow legs and walk off around here, especially weapons no matter what era they're from."
"You ok?" Chen asked, looking as Corin continued twitching uncomfortably. Corin looked angry back at the Ror'char base but here he looked like a hen that entered a fox den. "I don't think I've ever seen you this unnerved before."
"It's nothing," Corin said dismissively, but even his voice sounded nervous. "It's just that…" He looked around him, unable to shake the feeling. "I just don't feel safe here."
"Any more so than the planets with killer plants, giant ice monsters, or nightmare super soldiers?" Chen pointed out. Corin looked at the ground, acknowledging that Chen at a point. They had faced plenty of dangerous situations and it was only this that set him on edge.
"This place just doesn't seem right," Corin remarked. "You don't feel the same way? This place seems wrong, just having people run around like this. There's no order or anything." Chen just shrugged at this question. Saying something 'didn't seem right' was a rather vague statement.
"I don't think this place is wrong per se," Chen replied, trying to figure out how he should phrase this. "It's just a place. Some people here are good and some are bad."
"I thought you hated criminals."
"I do, but just because a place is lawless doesn't mean every last person who lives there is a criminal. I mean, I don't think the Sulibar are that bad. I think…" Chen's voice trailed off, knowing what he was about to say might come off as hurtful.
"What is it?" Corin asked impatiently. Normally, Chen was very good at concealing his true feelings on a subject. But, he was tired and didn't have the energy to try to hide his true feelings and it was obvious, even to Corin.
"It's just that…" Chen's voice trailed off again. It was a bit hypocritical of him; he always said that if you had something to say, say it. "You're gonna like what I have to say," Chen warned.
"Just spit it out already."
"You're more influenced by the Ror'char than you think," Chen blurted. "Alright? I know you don't want to hear it after what they did to your wife, Andrea, but I can't feel that all your beliefs come from them."
"Like what?" Corin asked flatly.
"As much as you believe in a free society, you clearly hate a lack of order," Chen pointed out. "Your concept of justice, morality, selflessness, I think come from the Ror'char. And I think your pacifistic beliefs come from them too."
"I can't believe you're actually saying I'm anything like them!" Corin barked. "They're tyrants, murderers, dictators!"
"You're missing my point," Chen snapped. "Even if you don't like the way they do things, they are still governed by a strict set of beliefs. They might go about those beliefs differently than you but they-" Chen stopped when something behind Corin caught his eye. "Wait a minute," he said, gesturing toward a human walking away with a box of a variety of weapons. "Isn't that a P90?" Corin turned around. Low and behold, there was a P90 in the box.
"Hey!" Corin called out as the two of them jogged over to the bald man. Chen's hand went to his gun though the guy didn't look very threatening. He wasn't even wearing a shirt so that was one less place to be hiding weapons.
"Huh?" the trader wheezed, turning to face potential customers. "You see something that meets your fancy?" He set down the box and Chen immediately snatched up the weapon he spotted. No doubt about it now; it was a P90. "Interested in buying that gun right there? Just got the thing two days ago."
Corin's face lit up when he heard this.
"Where'd you get it from?" he asked hurriedly.
"It was sold to me," the trader stated as if it was nothing. "He's one of my regulars."
While the trader was busy explaining things to Corin, Chen was checking out the gun. He gave the barrel a sniff. Nothing. To confirm, he ejected the mag. All the bullets were there.
"Mind if we meet this guy?" Chen grunted, his eyes narrowing into a glare. The trader put his hand to his chin, thinking about the offer.
"Got anything to make it worth my while?" he finally asked, picking the box back up. Chen gave a wicked smile.
"I can give you some of my bullets," he stated. There was a loud click as Chen cocked his MP7 and aimed it right at the trader's skull.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Corin cried out. "Steven, let's put the gun down."
"I'd listen to your friend if I were you, lad," the trader chuckled. "Maybe you've forgotten, but mine are bigger than yours." Chen looked down and realized that the trader was holding the box with one hand and with the other hand had picked up one of the particle repeaters and aimed it at Chen's chest.
Steven groaned in frustration. He was hoping that he could threaten the trader before he could grab a gun but it looks like he was equally fast on the draw.
"Alright," Corin called out. "How 'bout we all put the guns down." He looked around, trying to think of a way to peacefully resolve the situation. He reached down and pulled the grenade off Chen's belt, holding it up to the trader. "Grenade," he explained. "Sound good?"
The trader smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. He turned back to Chen and said, "You first."
Steven gave an angry mutter as he lowered his gun and the trader followed suit. Corin was about to give the man a grenade but the trader cleared his throat and held out his hand in front of Chen. Chen didn't even bother arguing as he handed back the P90 he had taken.
"He's a human that spends a lot of time at the tavern at the center of town," the trader explained, taking the grenade. "Along with his drinking, he does engage in some…less than reputable business practices."
"Less than reputable," Chen repeated.
"Hey, believe it or not, there is honor amongst thieves. Even criminals have crimes they will never even consider committing. I only accept items he has to sell and stay out of his business. Though I am curious, why are you so keen on meeting him?"
"That's our business," Chen answered before Corin could say anything. "Unless you want to make it worth our while…"
The trader stared at Chen, taking in Steven's response. Then, a small smile spread across the trader's face. Then that smile turned into a chuckle. And soon, he was laughing right in front of them.
"I like you two," he said. "And for that, I'll give you another snippet of information on the house. I have an icthyan business associate who says he ran into your other two friends asking questions at the tavern. As a dishonorably-discharged-enforcer-turned-bounty-hunter, he says just as some items have a habit of growing legs and walking off, other items have a habit of growing legs and ending up in your meals."
Corin and Chen exchanged glances as they processed this new statement.
"Why are you doing this?" Steven asked suspiciously. "You know we aren't going to give you anything."
"I know," the trader chirped.
"So why are you doing this?" Chen repeated. "There's nothing for you to gain. So why would you go out of your way to help us?" The trader had to hold back an obvious chuckle.
"You guys are definitely new," the trader laughed. "You guys don't know anything: the business, the power structure…"
"Power structure?" Corin repeated. "Space pirates are completely lawless. Your power structure is that the strong rule. There's no law. There's no order."
"So?" the trader asked, acting as if Corin was complaining about the color of the sky. "Alright, let me put it this way: take two pirates of high rank and power. What's to stop them from just abusing everyone beneath them?"
"Nothing," Chen and Corin both answered simultaneously.
"Wrong! For the sake of argument, let's say they are both of equal rank and power, and let's say one guy abuses everyone beneath him and the other is charitable to them. The lower ranking guys will be more loyal to the nice guy because they know he will help them. And he has become more powerful than the other guy his level since he now has people to help him. If someone tries to off the now more powerful guy, it's now more likely that the underlings will try to take revenge, or someone who holds the same belief will hunt the killer down. You help others, they'll be more inclined to help you in the future. So you see, disorder creates its own order, one where you'll want to help others for your own sake. Rule and law only serve protect those who do wrong and weaken those who obey, sheep to the slaughter of the wolves. Laws weaken everyone and leave them vulnerable to the one guy who decides to break the law. Disorder forms its own order due to mutually assured destruction. Anyways, I hope you remember this but you gotta go hunt these bastards down."
Chen and Corin gave a gracious nod before turning around and taking off.
"Good luck finding what you're looking for, lads!" the trader called as the two ran off. "And if you ever come back, just remember Item and Information Brokers Serrod and Harath are always at your service!"
-.-
It was Nova's turn to plop down onto the sofa in the dining section. They had gone around asking everyone if they had seen humans in uniforms like theirs. No one had seen anything.
"Guess we were kinda being stupid about this," she remarked to Martin, who leaned against the brick fireplace. "The human trafficking rings on Earth take forever to find. What made us think that we could find slavers here? Even the roaches couldn't find the slavers."
"You think Chen and Corin found anything?" Martin asked, scanning the room. As if the answer his question, Nova's radio suddenly crackled to life.
"Terra, you there?" Corin's voice came through.
"I'm here, Corin," Nova answered. "Got anything?"
"Terra, he regulars in the tavern! There's a good chance he's there right now!" Nova and Martin exchanged glances, not sure whether to be relieved or fearful. They needed to find a link to the slavers but they could just as easily go from the hunters to the hunted, assuming they weren't that already.
"Thanks, Corin," Nova answered. "We'll keep an eye out." She let go of her radio and let it hang from her uniform. This narrowed down her search but they still had a huge place to search. She was about to ask Martin for his opinion when she noticed Martin wasn't paying attention. "Charles?" she asked.
"Over there," he whispered. "The guy in the back. He's been following us." The Major felt her heart sink. If they were being followed then they might be the slaver's next targets. Nova leaned back and threw her arms up as if to stretch, tilting her head in the direction of the figure. Sure enough, there was a short humanoid figure standing in the corner of the tavern. She couldn't see the face or even tell what species he was, his body covered by a gray long coat and his face covered by a hood.
"Crikey, Major," Martin groaned.
"What?"
"Is that your way of being inconspicuous?!"
Nova just turned and looked at the corner again. The figure had vanished.
"You think he might have an idea as to what's going on?" she asked.
"Only one way to find out," Martin replied, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Mister E over there just went into the men's restroom."
"Check it out," Nova ordered. Martin gave a nod, reaching down and setting his ion rifle to medium. At minimum yield, the ion rifle was like a DMR, capable of sniping targets from a decent range and had the fastest rate of fire but it was not suited for close quarters; it would take too long to aim and fire. At maximum yield, it was like a rocket and if he used it in close quarters he would likely incinerate himself. Medium yield was the best answer, the concussive blast able to hurt the target as long as he doesn't blow his own foot off.
Martin kept his weapon ready as he walked into the bathroom. It was a surprisingly clean and even furnished place, the toilets and stalls lined up along one wall and sinks and mirrors lined along the opposite. The orange tiles were polished as if they belonged inside a mansion and not a bathroom.
Martin did not like close quarters combat. He was a sniper. He enjoyed spending hours doing nothing but sitting in a tree doing nothing. While he was still trained to fight in close quarters, he still preferred being able to line up the shot before pulling the trigger.
Charles looked around but there was no one in sight. Unless the figure had decided to flush himself down the toilet, the only place left to hide was in the stalls. Making sure he didn't lower his gun, he got to one knee and looked underneath the stalls. He could see a pair of boots in the furthest one. He carefully walked up to the door and paused, ready to shoot the back wall. The concussive force would turn the toilet into a miniature grenade hurtling fragments of parceling in every direction, surely injuring or even killing the person inside.
He gently pushed open the door and aimed. He looked up from his weapon, his jaw dropping before reaching forward and closing the door.
"I must be tired," he groaned, leaning against the tiled wall and rubbing his eyes. "I could've sworn I just saw a Sontaran inside that stall."
-.-
Nova glanced at the bathroom again. She had an idea; a suicidal idea but a bad idea. She stayed at the counter, looking around innocently. She was calling upon a skill she hadn't used since she was a teenager. It wasn't a skill she was particularly proud of but it never left her. She reached up and pulled her hairband off, letting her long dark auburn hair fall loose. She left her P90 hanging out at the side as she looked around. She did give the order to stick together but for this plan to work, she had to be by herself. And she waited…and waited…and waited.
She glanced at the bathroom again. The reason she was ok with Martin going in there was because it was a bathroom, a dead end. She was beginning to dread she actually made a very bad decision, that there was a secret tunnel or something and she just gave Martin to them.
"You've been sitting here for a while," a voice said. She looked up and spotted the barkeep wiping his hands on his apron as he walked up to the counter. Nova had seen him wiping down the glasses and counter but she never paid particular attention to him.
"Just got a lot on my mind," she replied, brushing her hair back. The rather skinny sireen nodded sympathetically. With a single fluid motion, he snatched up a shot glass and a wine bottle from the shelf, filled it, and slid the glass down to where she sat.
"On the house!" he said cheerfully, capping the bottle again. She smiled and nodded gratefully. She examined the clear orange liquid for a bit, not sure how to proceed. She knew there was a real possibility that this drink was how the slavers captured their victims. She could drink it and become their next one. But, if it was drugged then that would mean that her trap had worked and a slaver was nearby. But of course there was the possibility that there was nothing wrong with the drink. She did watch the barkeep pour it out for her straight from the bottle.
She took the glass, put it to her lips, and took a sip. She used to be a big drinker when she was young and she missed the tangy flavor. She set the glass down, waiting to see if anything would happen, her hand drifting toward a grenade on her vest. She watched the barkeep go back to his work, not even caring about her. But it wasn't only the barkeep she was paying attention to. She did her best to keep track of every person in the room. There was a large man sitting to her left, slowly eating his meal. Four people huddled around the fireplace, laughing and joking about. And there were even more people further back in the dining area, enjoying their meals. So far, everything seemed to be normal.
She looked back at the bathroom, beginning to feel nervous that Martin hadn't come out yet. She then glanced at the front door of the tavern. Corin and Chen hadn't gotten back either. Maybe groups of two was too small. She still didn't know how the Loadstones disappeared. It was possible all four of them were together when it happened. That would mean splitting them up was the worst idea possible. When Mercer sent another team to investigate Loadstone's disappearance, he sent eight people who stuck together. Nova had ordered Martin to investigate the bathroom in the hopes of a lone person wearing a uniform identical to Loadstone would be enticing to the slavers. But what if groups of two were too small? What if the bathroom was not the dead end she hoped and had a secret escape?
She shook off the feeling, holding the glass again and bringing it to her lips. As she took another sip of the sweet liquid inside, she froze.
As a teenager, she had made a habit of slipping things into the drinks of any boys that caught her fancy. Illegal? Yes. And had she been caught she would never have been permitted to join the military. When she finally denounced her old ways, her former friends decided to do it to her as punishment for desertion.
If this hadn't happened to her she probably wouldn't have even noticed, a weak taste of salt in her drink. It definitely wasn't there before and she probably wouldn't have even realized if she hadn't been in similar situations before. They had counted on the strong sweet taste of the alcohol to mask the saltiness. And it looked like taking the sip earlier was working to her advantage; the dose was more concentrated. Still, the taste was subtle and any normal person would never have noticed. But that raised even more problems. She hadn't left her drink alone; all she did was turn away for barely a second. Whoever did this was able to slip something right under her nose.
She carefully flushed the liquid out of her mouth and back into the glass, careful not to swallow. Nova looked around, trying to figure out who could've done it. Part of her wanted to just take the shot; they were so close to finding the slavers she was afraid she would blow their one and only opportunity. They were catching wind and the only way to catch it is when it blows. There was no way to find out who slipped the stuff into her drink and if she lets them know she knows about it, whoever did it might just slip away to find someone more vulnerable.
She could always pretend the drug was taking affect. No. It was obvious she hadn't drunk much and her acting skills were abysmal. She glanced at the bathroom again. She closed her eyes and gave a sigh. It was time to improvise. She took the glass and drank the liquid. This would either be a brilliant decision or the second worst mistake of her life.
If memory served her, it would take a few minutes for the drug to take affect and when it did it would be swift. She could only hope this new plan would work. After about three minutes, she could already feel the world begin to wobble. Not long after, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. She couldn't see who it belonged to but she could tell it wasn't anyone from her team.
"I think my friend had a bit too much to drink."
Showtime…
She stood up and faced the person who said this. She couldn't really react in surprise when she saw it was the man that had been sitting to the left of her. The rather pudgy human took his hand off her shoulder in shock. Nova looked him up and down, trying to find anything discernable on him or anything that looked like a weapon. There was nothing on his blue cargo pants or black vest. But she knew he had to be armed somewhere.
"Don't think so," she managed to slur out as she held up the grenade she had been gripping in her right hand, the pin hanging off her thumb. "If…if I…" Her tongue was going numb and she was already feeling lightheaded. She could feel her mouth moving but she was having trouble making it say what she wanted. "If I let go of this clip…" she managed to say. "We all go up!"
She looked at the bathroom again. What was taking Martin so long? Her eyelids were feeling heavy and she was afraid if she closed them for too long she would lose consciousness.
"Take it easy," the man said, his hands out in front of him. "You've drunk a bit too much."
"Your bad acting isn't fooling anyone…slaver," she said loudly. Some of the guests in the background had actually begun to get up to help restrain her but the moment those words left her mouth, she watched as they all turned to walk away. The slaver looked around in shock and horror. This was the one crime that was universally hated amongst pirates. They were not going to bother dealing with a slaver. Of course, there was also the possibility that she was lying or just too drunk. No way to know, the best course of action was simply to leave and let them sort it out.
One by one they filed out of the tavern. Of course, this wasn't so good for Nova either. She was hoping they would help her but it looks like that wasn't the case.
The slaver looked at Nova, venom gleaming from his eyes. It was terrifying just how evil a human's face could contort.
"You think that grenade will save you?" he asked, pacing back and forth.
"Was this how you got your last catch?" Terra managed to say, her hand squeezing the lever to the grenade. The slaver smiled at this question, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"So I was right," he chuckled. "Thought that uniform looked similar."
Terra would've been filled with pure rage if she had the energy for it. Every word that left the man's mouth sounded so arrogant, so cocky. She wanted the opportunity to take that ego and crush his skull with it. But she was in no position to even think it let alone do it.
Nova felt her right leg buckle. She dropped to one knee, still holding onto her grenade. When she looked up, her eyes widened in horror. She tried to release the grenade from her hand but it was too late. The slaver had rushed forward, seeing his opening, and grabbed the hand holding the grenade, his fingers squeezing the lever to the metal container. She tried to pull away but she could feel the energy leaving her body.
"Gotcha," the slaver snorted. Nova wanted to fight back but it looked like this was it. Even her leverage was useless. She didn't have any strength in her arms or fingers. She just felt tired.
The slaver smiled as he began to slip his fingers around the metal container when suddenly…
He jammed the grenade back into Nova's palms, forcing her fingers back around the lever, before throwing himself backwards. The air was split open by an ear-piercing bang, cement erupting from the floor, leaving a fist-sized hole behind in the ground. The slaver faced the hallway toward the bathroom, his hands reaching inside his vest, but froze.
Nova fell back against the counter but she looked toward the bathroom. Martin had finally emerged but it was the person standing beside him that caught her attention. It was the mystery man who had been following them, the tails of his ragged gray long coat flapping in the breeze that came through the open window window, a pair of hand axes hanging off either thigh, a block-shaped shotgun in his hands: Soren Stavig.
"Why are…you here?" Nova managed to breathe as her head finally fell limp.
"Hold your fire, Soren!" Martin yelled, rushing over to Nova's side. "We need him alive." He gently took the grenade from her hand, sliding the pin back into place. It was just in time too as he watched Nova finally fall unconscious.
Soren kept his eyes locked on the slaver, analyzing him and his movements. Soren had killed dozens of members of the Valken Royal Guards. As far as he was concerned, this slaver was just another victim. Soren kept his shotgun steady, ready to pull the trigger. The Ichaival shotgun, also known as the 'thunder rifle', fired like any other shotgun, but its pellets and slugs were kinetic generators. Upon impact, the target is hit hard enough that the bullet might as well have the mass of a sledgehammer and it transfers all that kinetic energy into the target. The slaver didn't seem nervous in the slightest and he wasn't inching toward the door; he also had a disturbingly excited smile upon seeing the fierri.
"Well, look at what we have here," he laughed. "I've never seen your kind before. What are you?"
Soren simply growled. He did not like answering questions.
Martin prepared to draw the ion rifle from his back but the slaver actually began walking away from the door and toward the other end of the bar. "Tell me, what happens now?"
"Now we take you in," Martin answered. He wanted to stay by the Major's side but it seemed that she was only unconscious or asleep and even if it was more than that he couldn't do anything about it. He had to find out what happened to Loadstone and this slaver was going to tell them either here or back on Millennium.
"Let me ask you this: your friend over there," the slaver said, gesturing toward Soren. "Did his race just discover gate travel? Haven't seen his kind before."
Soren didn't react to this statement. He just maintained his irritated glare.
"We'll ask the questions," Martin barked. "Though you were easier to find that I thought." Martin knew this statement was a bold-face lie, that they had caught the slaver through pure luck and some questionable decision making on Nova's part.
"Oh, and why were you looking for me?"
As Martin and the Slaver talked, something else caught Soren's attention. The fierri didn't know what it was but this whole situation seemed a bit too easy. Why had the slaver moved away from the door? And why did it feel like they were being watched? One thing Soren learned as a serial killer is that the obvious targets are the most dangerous. The only reason a person would put themselves in an obvious bad position was…when it was a trap…when that person had a way out and backup ready to attack.
Soren ran the situation through his head. He has gone after what seemed like obvious targets in the past merely to find out they were just bait. If he was right, then they were all in trouble. But what if he was wrong? There was only one way to find out: spring the trap. He had to force the slaver's hand.
"Some of our friends disappeared from here a few days ago and we want to know what happened to them," Martin demanded.
"Hey, what makes you think I would know?" the slaver laughed, throwing his hands in the air as if to say he surrendered. He kept eyeing the three as if he was trying to estimate their price.
"Oh, c'mon, Pudgy." Martin could see the slaver grit his teeth in annoyance at the nickname given to him. "Our friends vanish from here and we suddenly nearly become your next catch?"
"Well," Pudge said, leaning against the counter. The man was still a ways away but Martin still stepped between him and Nova. "Now that you mention it, originally only she was going to be my next catch but it looks like it's my lucky day; I get three in one."
Soren snorted in amusement as this statement.
"And how do you figure that?" he asked gruffly.
"He speaks!" the slaver cried out playfully. "Can I get your name?" Soren responded to that question with another glare. "Well, aren't you a stick in the mud."
"Answer the man's question," Martin barked. Pudge just laughed at this reaction. "What's so funny?"
"Your people are a special kind of stupid, aren't you?" he chortled. "You think you have the right to demand stuff from me?"
"You're clearly outnumbered and outgunned," Soren said calmly. "Yet you seem confident that you can take us on. Tell me, how long will it take for your plan to be set in motion?"
"Excuse me?"
"Despite your situation, you seem confident that can deal with us. You aren't even trying to escape. If you were alone, that is a sign of incompetence and stupidity, not superiority." The slaver growled at the obvious slight against him. "If you are not as brain-dead as you look, this could only mean you have a plan in place to deal with a situation such as this. So why have you not sprung it into action yet? How long will it take to set up?"
"I don't need any setup or plan," Pudge said coldly. "Taking you out will be easy."
"Easy, you say? Says the coward who relies on drugging to go after the unsuspecting."
Soren could tell the slaver was getting angrier by the second and calling the man a coward only stoked the fires. The human wanted to attack right now.
"Trying to act tough, huh? You really trying to intimidate me?"
"I'm trying not to laugh," Soren replied.
Soren could see the slaver trembling with anger. He was hoping to use the man's arrogance and have him accidentally spill what the plan was but this was taking too long. If there was a trap then it had to be sprung before it was properly set up.
"Arrogant little shit!" Pudge ranted in some desperate attempt to convince them of his superiority. "You have no idea how outmatched you are! You guys are nothing but a bunch of pathetic beta males trying to act tough! Might as well give up now! You think you caught me but you couldn't be more mistaken! This is our turf here! Here, I'm God! Here, you can't even scratch me!"
Martin looked at Soren uncomfortably. If Soren was right, then they were right in the middle of a trap. But, it didn't seem like the fierri even cared.
"Not even a scratch you say?" Soren repeated, shouldering his shotgun and taking the axes off his thighs. It was time to spring the trap before it was properly set up. "Let's see if I can make. Once we're done, Lieutenant Martin here can take back what's left of you."
The reality hit Martin as he realized what Soren was about to do.
"Soren, wait!"
Soren launched himself at the slaver.
Back on Earth, there was a rule of thumb known as the '20 foot rule'. A person could traverse a distance of 20 feet in the time it takes to draw and fire a gun. And that was just the average human. Not only was Soren less than 20 feet from the slaver, Martin knew how fast Soren could move, that the fierri could cover twice the distance in the same time. Charles practically expected a sonic boom when Soren flew at Pudge like a bullet. The slaver only had enough time to bring his right hand to a green gem on a golden band around his left wrist. Soren leapt into the air and raised his axes high above his head and brought them down upon the slaver, the metal blades aimed right at his collar. But suddenly, the man vanished before his eyes. Soren landed on the ground, looking around in confusion.
Martin's jaw dropped. Their only source of info had just vanished. He wanted to blame Soren for this but he knew that if the man could disappear that easily then he could leave at any point in time; at least Soren just exposed him.
Martin could feel his heart sinking to the center of the planet. Their link to the slavers was their right in front of them and had just vanished. The fact that Nova managed to lure them out was a miracle, a miracle he was not sure they could replicate.
"That all you got?" a voice asked. Martin's eyes widened as he looked around the room for the source of the voice. That was the slaver who had just gotten away asking this. That meant Pudgy was somewhere in the room. It was only when he heard the click of five plasma rifles being cocked and aimed at him did Martin look up at the walkway behind the bar did he realize what was happening.
He dove behind the counter with Nova while Soren practically leapt to the other end of the room as blinding bolts of plasma pelted the ground like a storm of superheated rain, the stench of burnt wood and concrete shooting out of each impact. The pudgy slaver raised his hand, ordering his five associates to hold fire. The six of them stared down from the walkway upon their next catch. Martin stayed behind the counter, trying to drag Nova away without peeking his head out.
Soren stood at the far end of the room, staring up at the men on the walkway, wearing ragged clothes and scarves covering their head and face, making it impossible to even know what species they were let alone their identity. But Soren was more focused on the pudgy slaver from earlier. Pudgy looked at a golden band he had around his left wrist, watching as the red gem in the center finally turned green.
"A teleportation device?" Soren muttered, trying to figure out what just happened. This was the only thing he could think of. He was still new to the concept of aliens and alien technology but he has read old Valken and SGC mission reports through the gate. Guess he shouldn't be surprised at the idea of a personal teleportation device. "So you not only had a way to escape but backup as well? I'm actually impressed."
"Too bad I can't say the same for you," Pudge replied with a laugh. "I'm hoping you'd fetch me a high price but it looks like your race is as dumb as dung."
Soren looked at the ground with an amused smile.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to disappoint you," he snarked. "Now…allow me to prove you wrong."
-.-
"Why did we decide to stray so far form the tavern?" Chen huffed, sprinting through the crowded roads. People stepped to the side to let the charging duo pass. He couldn't sprint as fast as he could with Corin trailing behind but they were nearly there anyways. The tavern was already in sight.
"Steven!" Corin shouted, pointing at the building. Chen could see what Corin was yelling about. Something was going on inside, flashes of light leaping out the window, the sound of plasma fire echoing out the doors. Chen pulled Corin to the side of the building, crouching down below the sill of the window. He peeked through the glass. There was so much dust and debris being kicked up he couldn't even tell what was happening only that a firefight had broken out.
"Wait a minute," Chen muttered. "Is that Soren?!"
Corin and Chen were still watching the battle when their radios crackled to life.
"Chen, is that you, buddy?" Martin's voice came through.
"Charles, what is going on in there?" Corin asked.
"Long story," Martin babbled. "Alright, the blokes behind the counter are all slavers, especially the fat man in the center. Soren's doing a good job buying time but we need to capture at least one of them alive."
"What's Terra's plan then?" Chen asked, one of the windows outside shattering as a stray plasma bolt flew out of the building.
"She's been drugged," Martin explained. Corin and Chen exchanged bewildered glances, realizing that she was nearly the latest victim. "Look, I have an idea but I don't know how well it'll work. You see those support struts holding the walkway our bad guys are standing on?"
Chen peeked over the sill again. He could see the support beams that held up the wooden walkway behind the bar counter.
"You're the only one with a gun that can destroy those you know!" Chen barked.
"Exactly!" Martin barked back through the radio. Chen and Corin both ducked down as the window directly above shattered, glass spraying upon the two like rain. From inside, Soren dove past the window, quickly spraying hot lead back at his foes before retreating again. "Look, just give me a bit of cover!"
-.-
Soren had taken the submachine gun from his waist and had returned fire. Unlike other weapons in Caldwell 70, fierri weapons still fired projectiles but that didn't make the weapons any less intimidating or even less lethal. The Tyrfing: anyone who felt the shrieker rifle was too large or that its hundred thousand round per minute rate of fire was overkill, this submachine gun was the solution. Nicknamed 'maelstrom rifles', this compact silver gun was small enough that it can be fired with the stock cradled in the user's elbow but it still could unleash a storm of bullets upon its target.
But even with the maelstrom rifle's firepower Soren was still pinned down, dashing from cover to cover while spraying back at his shooters. He couldn't afford to take aim, plasma quickly pelting the area where he peeks out.
It was too cramped in here. He's faced situations like this before, outnumbered and outgunned, but he was always out in the open, able to run and flank the shooters from every angle. Here, he was stuck in a single location. This was not like the situations in the training simulations. In the simulations, he could charge in and attack with such speed and ferocity his enemies could not react. Here, he was stuck, trapped behind cover. He could not get the momentum he needed.
If only he could find a way to close the distance…
Soren stayed behind the marble pillar where he took cover. From his coat he took out a dagger and a length of steel wire. That wire used to be something he had in his sleeve that he could always wrap around his victim's neck and pull but now it was going to serve another purpose. He held those two in one hand as he took out a small metal cylinder with a vein of blue energy running through it. He then used the wire to tie other two items together. This may be the only way to get a leg up on these guys.
The doors to the tavern burst open and Chen stepped in, aiming and opening fire on the six. At least one of them cried out in pain as a bullet embedded itself in his shoulder, but the five armed slavers opened fire on the door. Chen yelled in shock and dove back out the door. From the other side, Martin stepped out from the bathrooms, his ion rifle set at medium yield. If he wanted to kill them he could've just fired it at the man in the center and wipe them all out. But he needed one of them alive. He aimed the rifle at the nearest end of the walkway and fired. The explosion nearly tossed him back, the wood turning into splinters. Nearly all the slavers on the walkway were knocked over, but the ones furthest turned and opened fire.
"Bugger!" Martin shouted, diving back behind the door. He had hoped that he could blow out both sides of the walkway and send the slavers tumbling down but their firepower was just too much. If this was just a regular firefight they could win easy but they needed at least one of the slavers alive.
"You aren't gonna win this!" Pudge gloated, putting his hand in his vest and taking out a large metal disk. Slavers had more than one way to catch prey. Normally a slaver catches prey inconspicuously, drugging them or luring them into a secluded location. But some space pirates preferred using more open methods.
Soren dashed out from his cover and hurled his dagger at Pudge, who simply leaned sideways and let the knife embed itself in the wall behind him. The slaver chucked the disk at the ground near Soren. The fierri was about to take cover again when the disk went off. There was a violent bang as Soren fell to his knees, sparks spewing out of the device.
"Hold fire," Pudge barked. The weapons fire quickly died down, the chaos in the building settling like the dust in the air. The slavers may have stopped firing but Chen and Martin knew they were still stuck behind cover. The slavers had their guns trained on their location while they still need to step out of cover and aim.
But Pudge was more interested in Soren.
"Aw, what's the matter? Can't you move?" the slaver mocked the fierri, who had fallen to one knee, his body trembling violently. Soren's face was contorted into a furious snarl as he tried to withstand the pain. "You're fast but no one can move if every muscle in their body is firing off at the same time." Soren could feel the electricity dancing across his entire body. It was if ever cell had come alive and was wriggling around. He could feel his body tiring, trembling as it tried to do everything at once. Contract, extend, bend, unfold, every muscle was active and pulling as hard as they could. "I don't know which planet you came from but I guess this is the end of the line." Pudge may have sounded confident but Soren should've been sprawled on the ground, not on his knees. No. He had his prey right where he wanted them. Any small victory by these people was due to dumb luck, not skill or strength.
From his perch, Pudge could see Soren's lips moving.
"Eh? What was that?" Pudge gloated. "It's not too late for you to start begging for your life, you know." Soren looked up and Pudge felt his blood chill. Soren's face was not contorted in pain. It was contorted with hate. Worse: he was moving. He was somehow fighting through both the pain and his muscles pulling his body apart.
"IMBECILE!" Soren roared, glaring up at the people on the walkway. He has heard nothing but gloating and bragging from Pudge and he's had enough. "I said 'eat this', slaver!" Soren held out his hand, a cylindrical detonator in his palm. He pressed the trigger. Pudge looked around in a panic, only realizing what was happening when heard a beep behind him. He whipped around, spotting the dagger still stuck in the wall. But tied to the knife's handle was another cylinder: a stun bomb. Soren knew that this was the only way to create an opening and tied it to the knife to hide what it really was.
There was a massive bang and a brilliant flash of light as the stun bomb went off. All the slavers on the walkway fell to their knees in confusion as a massive surge of energy shot through their body, a loud bang practically rupturing their eardrums and ratting their bones. It felt like their skin was burning.
The fierri may prefer projectile weapons but they were more than familiar with plasma weapons, and there was more than one way to use plasma. The plasma canister only detonated a tiny amount but it was enough plasma to cause a pressure wave that could knock a person off their feet and devastate nerves.
With no guns aimed at him, Soren raised his maelstrom rifle and brought its stock down on the metal disk, the device shattering and the field going down. His body was exhausted, feeling like it had run a marathon. Any regular person would've collapsed by this point but Soren wouldn't have become as dangerous as he was if he was that easily taken down.
Soren had the skills to wipe out all six of them; he only needed an opportunity to close the distance, a distraction. And he got it…
Soren pulled out his twin axes as he leapt over the counter and charged for the stairs leading to the walkway. He had to at the very least stop Pudge from teleporting away. If he opened fire from down there, Pudge could just hit the button and vanish again. But with the way the slavers were lined up, if he leapt onto the walkway and fired, there was a good chance one of his shots will go through more than one slaver and kill his intended prisoner. No. He was going to do this the old fashioned way. The slavers were lined up like sheep to the slaughter.
The first man could barely let out a scream as Soren brought both axe blades down into the man's skull before bringing his boot up and kicking the filth off. The second slaver was still sprawled out against the walkway, his right hand, the hand still holding the plasma rifle, was pressed against the railing for support. Soren brought one axe down upon the man's right hand, hacking it off, before whipping around and cleaving the other blade through the slaver's jaw with enough force the corpse was thrown over the railing. Pudge was next and Soren had no intention of letting him get away. Pudge reached up for the gem on his golden band but Soren swung his axes, their pointed hook-like bottoms embedding themselves into the band and into his arm. He screamed in pain as Soren gave a pull and threw the man off the walkway. This left three slavers alive. They were beginning to recover from the stun grenade, picking up their rifles. Even if they couldn't aim, Soren was so close that aiming wasn't necessary. But, with Pudge out of the way there was now nothing to stop him from unleashing his fury.
Soren returned his axes to their straps before reaching behind him and pulling the thunder rifle back out. He fell to one knee, taking aim at the targets in front of him: three slavers lined up in a row. The first one had finally picked up his plasma rifle
A clap of thunder shook the tavern, the blast exiting the shotgun's barrel and demolishing the chest cavity of the first slaver, exiting out the back and blasting through the next. His body exploded, the pellets embedded in his flesh but the artificial kinetic energy they generated still continued into the third slaver, crushing his ribcage. The three corpses were thrown backwards, falling to the ground. The one nearest the end stumbled off the walkway and to the floor below.
Soren walked up to the edge of the broken walkway, looking down at the corpse. This was bringing back memories.
-.-
On the ground, Pudge clung to his left arm. The axe had not only penetrated the golden metal band but sent fragments and shards of his own teleportation device into his wound. He looked up, watching as Martin came out from the bathroom while Corin and Chen came in from outside. Soren had dropped from the walkway and vaulted over the counter, landing right in front of the sole survivor.
"Why?" Pudge wheezed, hand over his wound. "Why didn't you finish me off?"
"I said I would leave just a scratch," Soren replied as all four of them surrounded him. "We still have questions for you to answer." The slaver growled at all four of them in anger but he knew it was pointless. He had been caught.
-.-
It was normal for Nova to take a shower after missions. But she spent an extra half hour in the showers this time. It was normal to come back from missions sweaty and tired but she just spent almost fifteen minutes sprawled out on the ground of a public bathroom on an alien planet. Doctor Osborn had already cleared her for duty; whatever drugs were in her drink were only made to knock her. With that out of the way, Nova wanted to wash off whatever grime got attached to hair laying on that floor. She finished her shower and dawned a pink T-shirt and jeans.
When she finished she found Donavan rolling through the halls outside the locker room.
"General Mercer's looking for you," he explained. She was curious why Mercer would want to talk to her so soon after a mission, before she could even finish her mission report. When she reached his office, the old man did not waste any time reprimanding her for what happened, not for getting captured or the agreement to help the Ror'char but for her actions at the pirate haven.
"You allowed yourself to be drugged while on duty and knowing what type of people you were searching for," Mercer hissed coldly.
"General, as I said to Doctor Osborn, I don't remember the moments before or after what happened," Nova pointed out calmly. "The last thing I remember was ordering Lieutenant Martin to follow the figure we saw into the bathroom."
"Yes, Doctor Osborn suspects whatever was that drug was it was designed to affect your memory," Mercer grumbled, putting his hands to chin. Nova's memories of the situation were foggy at best. As she said, the last thing she remembered was telling Martin to follow Soren into the bathroom, though they didn't know it was him at the time. She remembers something happened that put everything into a fog then the next clear memory she has is waking up on the floor of the tavern's public bathroom. By the time Martin had come out, Nova was already drugged and Chen and Corin didn't even arrive until much later. In other words, none of them knew how Nova got drugged to begin with.
"General," Nova spoke up. "Why did you send Soren to watch us?"
"I believe the appropriate term is 'demonstration'," Mercer replied. "I evaluated his skill sets and abilities and wished to see how he fared in the field. Soren Stavig is a close quarters combat specialist, his skill given to him by the survivors of the Genesis War and honed on local wildlife. Along with that, his skills include surveillance and tracking. This was an excellent chance to see what he is capable of."
"And if he performed below expectations?" Nova asked suspiciously, even as the hum of the stargate echoed through the chamber. The silver ring could be seen through the front window of the General's office so its activation could be felt even from here. But Nova was more concerned with the conversation at hand. "What if he got caught? Or captured? Or killed? Why didn't you use another situation to test him and send one of the surveillance teams? Or why didn't you have a second team follow to keep an eye on him?"
The stargate engaged, the shimmering pool of blue forming inside its ring.
"We shall continue this conversation another time," the old man replied, standing up from his seat. "For now, let us see what this is about." Nova wanted to protest, to demand answers, but that would be out of line. Mercer knew more than he was letting on. As a military leader, she knows that sometimes secrecy is required but she was becoming more and more irritated by the General's secrets.
-.-
One of the control room technicians pulled the chair away so Donavan could roll up to the laptop.
"General," he greeted as Mercer walked in. "We've sealed the barrier but nothing yet."
"No transmission?" Mercer asked.
"Negative."
Nova stared at the solid case that covered the front of the gate, the blue glow of the wormhole still filling both the gate room and control room. But for some reason nothing was coming through, not even a radio transmission.
There was an audible warble as an image suddenly materialized in the center of the control room, everyone whipping around to face the image. One of the passing guards jumped into action and aimed his rifle at the suddenly appearing figure.
"Krell," Nova breathed as the Ror'char Overlord appeared in the room, his arms folded behind his back. It was hardly a perfect hologram. It was hardly even a good hologram, the color washed out and the image flickering like it was a damaged VHS tape. Asgard holograms were so good that many times they were mistaken for the real thing until the first few bullets go through them. This, on the other hand, was clearly a hologram.
"Hello again, General Mercer," Exodan Krell greeted the old man. "I believe we haven't seen each other since our first encounter." The sireen looked around the room, taking in the sight, before setting his eyes on Nova.
"I'm disappointed in you, Major," he stated. "After you find a link to the slavers, you were supposed to return to us. I did give you the address of a neutral planet to meet us on."
Nova opened her mouth to argue but she didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Mercer did.
"How did you know she acquired a slaver as a prisoner?" he asked. "And how did you acquire this gate address?" Realization hit Nova in the face like a hammer.
"You had a spy follow us," she exclaimed. She watched as Krell's eyes narrow in irritation. He didn't answer but she got her answer from his expression.
"I guess we both betrayed each other," Krell finally answered. "Still, I simply had a shade monitor your actions to make sure you did not stray from our plan. In the scope of things, my actions were less dishonorable than yours."
"We can argue about that later," Mercer stated. "Then question is: how shall we proceed now? The slaver is currently in our custody."
"We both have something to gain from this," Krell replied. "You wish to rescue your friends. We wish to punish some corrupt government officials who have taken refuge in the slave market. And I doubt either of us would take issue exterminating the slavers in the process."
"We both have something to gain from this but do we necessarily need each other for this?" Mercer asked. "In a way, Wolf Pack's return is insurance." Krell raised a confused eyebrow but Mercer proceeded to explain this logic. "You needed them because you feared that the slavers would go into hiding once more if they caught you investigating. If they handed the prisoner to you, they would be of no more use to you."
A smile broke over Krell's face.
"I actually did not consider this," he admitted. "But, what of your first statement?"
"We have the slaver now. Why do we require you? We can extract the information and eliminate the slavers ourselves."
"You think the slave markets are so lightly guarded?" Krell asked. "You will need our help in order to save your friends lest you wish to hand over more of your people. I propose a new arrangement. Allow me and Overlord Azoth to come aboard your humble city and we may interrogate the prisoner together. Afterwards, we may formulate a strategy together."
Mercer paused for a moment. This was something he would normally discuss with the Department Heads but he also knew he could not take too long. He would have to make the decision and as the General of the Expedition he could make the decision.
"You may enter my city unarmed after being searched on another planet," he decided.
"Unacceptable," Krell immediately answered. "I will reduce our armaments to carnifex pistols but we will not go unarmed into your city."
"Then you shall never enter," Mercer said firmly. Hearing such a harsh tone of voice from the old man wasn't new anymore but it was still a rare occurrence. Even without knowledge of his true identity, when Mercer became enraged it felt like he could call upon the wrath of God.
"I know you are no fool," Krell said. "We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. You on the other hand have everything to lose and nothing to gain. If we don't get the slavers, we simply don't catch the fugitives we seek. If you don't find the slavers, you don't get your friends back. You are lucky we do not implement our own conditions. Tick, Tock, General…if you wait too long then the people you seek may be sold by the time you get there."
Mercer fell silent. He was aware of this. He had hoped that he could coerce Krell into agreeing with these terms. If he couldn't trick Krell into agreeing, the only question is if the risk of letting Ror'char officers into the city was worth the risk? And he had to make it fast.
"Then no," Mercer said. Nova stared at the General in shock. Everyone in the room stared at the General in shock. He just said he was willing to sacrifice four their own just to not work with the Ror'char. Nova always believed in 'no man left behind', that every team that goes through the gate can be reassured that if something happens they will receive help. "The loss of four of our own is regrettable, but by agreeing to your terms I would be endangering everyone in this city."
Krell's expression was originally one of shock, as much as or even more than everyone else in the control room. But, then a small smile spread over his face.
"I understand," Krell said. "It is not that you do not care for your people but rather you are more worried about the others you would be putting at risk. You put the safety of the many over the safety of the few. I can respect that."
"Then you understand why I will not accept your terms," Mercer said. "So long as you present a threat to this city and the people residing here, I will not accept the terms."
It was Krell's turn to fall silent, but he was silent in appreciation.
"Men like you and I…" he said quietly. "We are often seen as callous and unfeeling due to decisions like these. We make choices that resign a few individuals to a cruel fate in exchange for safety of the many. Many civilizations claim that the many outweigh the few, but next to none are willing to put that belief into practice. I concede to your wishes. Azoth and I shall come unarmed."
"My men shall meet you on the neutral planet you told Major Nova," Mercer said. "They will search you to make sure you are unarmed before bringing you to our city. Then we shall plant our next move."
"So glad we can agree," Krell said with a bow before fading away. Nova stared at the spot that Krell's hologram once stood. So they were doing this. They were going to work alongside the Ror'char.
