Chapter 8 – Prisoners
It had taken over twelve hours, but the entire occupied areas of the east pier had been thoroughly searched. The four extra Elite drafted in to assist, most of which John hadn't met before, had helped a lot. They been the ones to conduct all the Alliance delegations searches, no doubt getting less complaints that John and his teams had from their other unhappy visitors in the east pier. To help matters, the Elite had a type of scanner that could 'sniff' out components of Quantum, which Rodney had patched into something in the air vents that the city used to detect outbreaks, and the resulting full city scan had turned up several stashes of Quantum that some of their visitors had hidden away on hearing of the searches. They had also found two more groups all flying high on Quantum, and the Infirmary was now even more packed than before.
The total result of so much work was a small collection of silver liquid vials and five unhappy dealers. Four of them were from varying refugee communities, and who had all been taken into a room with Sumner and had sung like canaries. He hadn't hurt them, but whatever he had said had worked wonders. They had all confessed to getting their supply from the fifth dealer, who was one of the Alliance visitors, an assistant to the ambassador from Sunkara, which had apparently caused a right stir. Sunkara was one of the most respected worlds among the Alliance, but the Elite Kari had told him that those from Sunkara were traders to their bones, so the chance to make some profit out of smuggling some Quantum into Atlantis had probably looked like a great opportunity to the guy.
The Sunkaran dealer had been as nervous as anything when he had been arrested by the Elite and handed over to Sumner for all to see in the corridors. His boss, the Sunkaran ambassador, had been staring daggers at the man since he had been slammed in the brig. John imagined that when all this got back to the Alliance it would hurt the Sunkaran ambassador's professional standing and he wasn't happy about it.
But, there was good news in all the mess. The Quantum they had found was all of an older stock and hadn't been souped-up the Wraith.
And there was the blissful fact that they could maybe all get some sleep soon. John checked his watch, it was almost three in the morning and he had to be awake for the negotiations that were continuing in the morning. That was if this latest event didn't make Nolfi and his followers decide to abandon the talks completely after the late night search.
"Is this everything, Rodney?" Colonel Carter asked from across the Control Room.
"Everything the sensors can detect," he replied. "But, there could be more of it that the sensors can't detect."
John looked away from the haul of Quantum and, blinking his dry eyes, he moved across to stand behind Rodney's shoulder. "Remind me why again."
"Anything that's been opened or used will release small particles into the air, which all gets circulated through the city's air system and through the series of highly sophisticated sensors that sniff out known viruses and bacteria, as we're all familiar with." Yes, they were, especially after a false positive that had sealed up the city last year, all thanks to Rodney's tinkering with the sophisticated sensors. John was tempted to remind Rodney of it again, but the scientist was getting tetchy this evening, and right now John couldn't blame him.
"So, if some Quantum wasn't opened and the vials were still tightly sealed, then there's a chance we've missed some," John concluded tiredly.
"Yes, for the third time," Rodney complained.
"I'm tired," John confessed as he rubbed one dry eye. It wasn't like he had gotten much sleep with Teyla last night anyway.
"And all of the Quantum we've found the Elite have identified as old versions of the drug and not the dangerous new Wraith-altered version," Colonel Carter repeated herself, as if trying to organise her own sleepy brain. "So, for now, Atlantis and its personnel are in the clear."
"Except if any of these people are read by the Wraith in the future," Sumner stated too loudly for John's tired ears, "then they have the plan of the city and our names and faces."
Which was a very worrying thought. "We just have to hope that the Elite get a handle on the source of this new Quantum," John concluded.
"Because that's the best thing to always do, trust the Elite," Sumner scoffed.
John glanced round at him. "They did a pretty good job helping us today." He couldn't stand the man's paranoia at this time of the night, or was it technically morning yet? It had been a really long day.
"They shouldn't have allowed any into our city in the first place."
"The same argument could be made that we shouldn't have let the drug in," Carter replied. "We will need to review our security procedures."
"The sensors now know about the basic structure of Quantum," Rodney put in, gesturing to his computer, "So in the future, we should get a heads up if more of it comes into the city."
"Really?" John asked happily surprised.
"Of course," Rodney replied up at him. "Haven't you been listening?"
"So, Atlantis is clean and we should be able to keep it that way," Carter clarified again.
"Yes," Rodney repeated.
"Except we've got two Alliance criminals in our brig and a lot of really pissed off refugees, half of who now hate us as much as the Alliance," Sumner put in, Mr Cheery as always.
"It wasn't that bad," John couldn't help but mutter, too loudly, because he felt all eyes turn on him. "I think they'll calm down by the morning," he put in quickly. Stupid tired brain talking without thinking.
"Maybe it'll get some of them to leave," Sumner muttered.
"Considering how long some of them have been staying here, it's amazing we haven't had any trouble before now," John pointed out.
"I agree," Colonel Carter uttered next to him. "But, we perhaps have a growing problem in the east pier now, one we're going to have to keep a closer eye on."
"There's still the Beta site," Sumner added, "many of them can go live there once the full sweep and water source checks are complete."
"If they want to go," Rodney added. "Here they've got hot running water, food ready prepared when they want it, and we protect them from the Wraith and the Alliance."
"We can't keep them all here," Sumner protested.
"Let's just leave that particular discussion for another day, once the Alliance delegation have left," Carter interjected. "When we're all be more awake and hopefully everyone on the pier will be thinking more clearly."
Movement to the right drew John's eye and his mood lifted instantly as he saw Teyla heading up the steps to the Control Room, the other Elite, Kari, beside her.
Sumner had allowed the Elite to question the Sunkaran prisoner, which was surprising, but then there was video feed and half a team in the brig with them listening and happy to report every word to the Colonel.
"Honoured Elite," Carter said as she moved forward to meet them.
Teyla's eyes lifted from the collection of Quantum to Colonel Carter. "Colonel. We have attempted to interrogate the prisoner."
"Attempted?" John asked surprised as he reached Colonel Carter's side.
Teyla's gaze slid to him and she gave him a lopsided smile. "He was very talkative, but had little to share. He says he traded for the Quantum back on his homeworld and that he did not know the man he purchased the drug from."
"But, it's not the worrying version the Quantum, right?" Rodney checked.
"No, none of it is, but it is still a recent enough version that we should track the suppler, see where it leads us," Kari replied this time.
Teyla looked across to Colonel Sumner and then to Colonel Carter. "I would like to ask one of my fellow Elite warriors to come to Atlantis. She is able to read another's emotions and should be able to help us ascertain whether this man is telling us the truth."
"Madesh could also help us," Kari put in to Teyla.
Teyla nodded. "Yes, he is another man who works with us."
"I remember him," Colonel Carter cut in, saving their explanation. "We would be happy for any assistance, as long as anything that is learnt is shared with us freely."
"Of course," Teyla replied. "Nalla and Madesh are ready to travel here as needed, while Kari and I will depart." John almost jerked at the news. "The samples of this Quantum can be more thoroughly tested by an Elite laboratory, where we may be able to trace where the drug was manufactured. If we may take some samples with us?"
"Of course," Carter replied, nodding to an Airman to the side. John looked over to see two of the bags containing the vials were separated off and the man walked them over to Teyla and Kari. Kari took them with a vague stern nod.
"When will you return?" Colonel Carter asked.
"There are four Elite here already, so there should be no problems with security," Teyla replied, not answering directly. "I will return when we have something constructive to report." John didn't like the sound of that. He had been looking forward to another night with her, even it was half a tired night. Now she was leaving out of the blue?
"Thank you for all your help," Carter said extending her hand.
Teyla shook her hand. "Should you need us, one of my fellow Elite stationed here will know how to contact us."
"Good hunting," Carter added as she nodded to Kari, not shaking her hand. John suspected the Colonel might lose it if she did. Kari had never been one of the friendliest of the Elite, and she still seemed somewhat suspicious of him despite how often he had worked with the Elite now. She was a stern woman, but one hell of a fighter if the reports from the Marines who had sparred with her the other evening were anything to go by. But, that was hardly a surprise for an Elite, but then the Marines hadn't actually seen a female Elite in action like John had. He had seen it up close and personal in more ways than one.
Teyla turned then to meet John's gaze directly. "My father hopes that you will still be able to attend the feast in Tjaru next week."
John smiled at her, understanding that it wasn't just a message from Torren. "Hopefully," he replied with a smile. "I wouldn't want to miss that steamed berry pudding thing from the last feast."
She smiled and nodded. "I will pass on your request to him."
She nodded in that polite regal way of hers towards Colonels Carter and Sumner and turned away with Kari to leave. John glanced at Carter and with her nod, he followed the Elite.
He caught up with Teyla with two long strides as she descended the steps outside the Control Room. "There any Quantum problems on Athos?" He asked carefully.
"It is occasionally seen," Teyla admitted quietly.
Kari moved ahead of them, moving faster down the main steps to where two bags were set to one side, a Marine standing over them protectively. Kari picked both the bags up, presumably one being Teyla's, and moved towards the open space of the Gate Room, clearly ready and anxious to leave.
"I take it she's had enough of babysitting politicians?" He asked Teyla as they walked down the steps more slowly, the Gate activating across the room. He was out of time with her again.
"Yes, I believe we all have had enough," Teyla replied with a smile in her voice.
"You'll be coming back though, right?" John asked, his mouth running away with itself again.
"I hope to," Teyla replied, but her attention was focused forward. "Depending on how our hunt goes," she added with more of a proper smile.
The wormhole activated loudly, exploding out and snapping back in, ready to drag Teyla away from him.
"Hope it goes quick and easy," John replied. "And if you need any back up, you know where to find us." They had reached the bottom of the steps.
"Yes, we do," Teyla replied more formally. "Otherwise, if we cannot return," she said turning to face him, "there is hopefully a feast to enjoy in Tjaru."
He smiled at that, pleased that she would try to be there, that she was saying it out loud. He held her gaze more directly than normal when in public. He stretched out a hand to her to shake her hand, and, with a light smile, she reached out and her hand slid into his. It was a familiar hand to him now, her fingers delicate, but strong, and the warm golden skin of her hand tempting him to press a kiss to the back of her fingers, as he had done several times playfully with her in private. It always called back their first proper parting, when she had dropped him on a desolate world with a Gate back to Atlantis, and he had kissed the back of her hand.
Looking into her eyes, knowing he had a split second until someone would think the goodbye too long, he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand again.
She blinked, smiled and looked away.
Then she walked away.
He watched her go, wishing he could actually go with her, help her track down this dangerous new Quantum. He could watch her back for her, but he couldn't.
He could only hope that maybe she might need his help, and until then, he would have to just wait.
000000
Aldine was a good planet to meet anyone. It was a busy, bustling planet, with strong trading ties through the Portal. The Portal ran all day and all night practically, bringing in people and supplies from off world, and sending out the continuous carts of grain, vegetables, and fish to other Alliance worlds. Aldine was technically in Alliance space, but little technology had found its way onto the planet, the Aldine people preferring their basic carts and pre-industrial lifestyle. It was seen as something of a backwater planet, and for some reason the Alliance military enforcement had little interest in it, for there was only one small base close to the Portal and it was well known that those stationed inside were bored out of their brains. They tended to deal with that problem by drinking the local beer and playing card games with those that brewed the beer.
To be sure not to attract any attention though, Seeal had travelled to Aldine among a group of Ancestor monks from Malakien. A simply acquired spare robe of their order had been her disguise, and once on Aldine no one would approach her. The monks travelled constantly throughout the Alliance in an attempt to convince the entire populace to return to Ancestor worship, and so rarely attracted any real attention. People tended to look away in fact, the faith in the Ancestors difficult for many considering the horrific reality of what the Wraith had done to their worlds before the Alliance had formed.
Once through the Portal, Seeal moved quickly away from the monks, slipping past two Military personnel playing cards in the sunshine, and into the first empty lane she found between two old leaning buildings. As soon as she was out of view of anyone, she removed her robe, folded it up and tucked it into a small bag she had slung around her back. Her knife sat securely against her lower back, she exited the other end of the lane and stepped out into the wide busy roads running along the docks. Massive ships sat in the harbour, with sailors and traders loading and unloading, wagons and small carts lined up close by to drop off or pick up the supplies. People, in all manner of differing clothing styles and skin colours, milled around, talking, trading, or were sat outside the many taverns along the dockside, beer in hand watching the activity. Children of various ages ran around legs, overexcited by the noise and the impressive ships, whilst mothers scolded between purchasing bags of fish and grain straight off the back of the carts. It was the most perfect place to go unseen.
Her destination was the oldest tavern set at the furthest end of the busiest section of this part of the docks. It was a squat building with only one upper floor which seemed to be leaning more precariously forward each time she visited. It had been almost a year since she had last visited, but nothing would change here.
She walked past the old tavern without looking at it at first, moving round the side, as if to follow the carts and traders back into the lanes to the Portal. She stopped, pretending to have to deal with her hair that needed pulling back off her face, and took a good look at the surrounded area. There was nothing out of place that she could see. She looked around the back of the tavern, where a small garden stood empty this morning, the sunlight not yet reaching into it, which was why everyone was currently sat out the front of the buildings. She checked the windows as best she could without drawing attention to herself, and felt satisfied that all was well for now.
She headed back to the dockside and stood among a group of elderly Athosians who were admiring one particular ship as it moved off into the wider waters. The ship's large sails unfurled spectacularly and some children screamed in delight. Seeal watched as the unseen breeze caught in the sails and the ship began to turn and move away at greater speed.
She exchanged a few polite smiles with the elderly Athosians, and turned away, heading back along the dock. She turned into the entrance of the dockside tavern with the step of someone who was relaxed and used to being on Aldine.
It was dim inside and her eyes took a moment to adjust, but she could already hear that all was well inside still. There weren't too many inside, but busy enough that no one paid her any mind. One family were loudly ordering a small boy to eat his boiled fish whilst he cried that he hated it, and at the main bar, several old sailors sat with their strong thick hands around big cups of beer.
She nodded to a few people, as was expected here on Aldine, as she moved through the tavern, heading around the side of the bar to where the tables and stools overlooked the windows to the docks outside. An open doorway ahead, its dividing curtain pulled aside, lead to the back room, which held several more tables. She could already see that one table was occupied, with Robiah.
He sat in the far corner table, as usual having selected the best strategically placed seat and leaving her the worst. He looked relaxed and deep in thought as he looked out of the window to his left, watching the docks.
She brushed against the dividing curtain as she entered the back room, thereby 'accidently' pulling it a little further across the doorway. There was no one else sat in the room, and he looked round immediately.
Instantly she saw that there was something different about him today, something tight around his eyes, and he smiled as he sat up straight in his chair as she moved towards his table.
"I do enjoy this planet," he told her and she stopped abruptly. Why was he being so polite and approachable?
She narrowed her eyes at him.
His smile dimmed slightly. "The situation has changed considerably, Seeal-."
"It has," she interrupted, taking control of the conversation as she glanced out of the window and then towards the back door that led out to the garden behind the tavern. Everything looked clear. "I am leaving Creass' organisation," she told him, still standing, for the sense of wrongness was growing stronger. She needed to sort this quickly and leave. "This will be our last meeting," she told him.
He began to reply, straightening up taller in his seat, but she heard a yelp from the main area of the tavern behind her, and she began to turn towards the rising sound of the scrabble of stools and the running of feet.
She saw nothing of the other room though, for the curtain was moving aside and the doorway was filling with the massive wide figure of the Elite warrior from Belsa. His scarred face was etched into her mind, the tattoos like a blazing warning, and his large sleek muscular arms crossed over his chest.
She had played through in her mind what she would do if she ever came up against him again. How she would stand her ground, fight better than before, strike before he could react – that she would be faster, stronger, and not be afraid of him the next time.
However, the fear ran up the inside of her throat again, pushing away her logical mind and shouted two blazing facts directly into her cortex – that she had to run from him, and that she was in a very small room of which he was blocking one exit.
Oh, and that he was smiling victoriously at her.
She backed away immediately, quickly turning, Robiah shouting something at her, but her hand was already around the handle of her knife at her back, and the back door to the tavern was already two feet away from her.
Only it slammed open and another man filled the doorway, taller and dressed in a long dark coat. Long hair pattered against his leather coat as his arm rose and a stunner pointed directly at her face. She braked instantly, her eyes registering the Wraith tattoos set across his steady trigger finger.
"Stand down," the new Elite ordered, calmly and loudly.
"Seeal," Robiah called to her. "Don't do anything," he ordered her.
"She can try," the first scarred Elite stated from across the small room. He had stepped further into the back room, making it feel half the size of before.
Her heart pounding, Seeal quickly assessed all her options. They had both the doors and there was no other way out of this room, other than through the window beyond Robiah. She glanced at it and quickly played through what it would take to get through the glass, what she could do on the other side. Except she would still have two Elite after her, one on each side as they exited the tavern. And they had stunners, and the luck of heavy rainfall from last time wasn't going to happen again today.
She could fight, go for the taller Elite, could maybe take him by surprise, but she had seen the stunner on the scarred Elite's belt as well – alongside the blades.
She had no options for escape, for now. She accepted that fact in an instant.
"Let go of the knife," the tall Elite ordered.
She slowly released her hold of the smooth warm wooden handle and held her hands outwards, empty, so that there would be no misunderstandings.
"Turn," the tall Elite ordered and she slowly obeyed, though it was against every instinct to turn her back to a gun, even a stunner, pointed at her, but these were Elite and for now she would have to play along. She turned slowly, hands out, and felt him tug the knife free from her belt and then pull free the strap of her bag. She rolled her shoulders so it would drop into his hands. She didn't care as it only held the robe, some dried fruit, and a spare knife.
What she did care about was Robiah, who she fixed her attention on, feeling hatred bubble up inside her.
"We had an agreement," she told him through clenched teeth.
Robiah had stood up from his seat and held up his hands. "This is an Elite matter now, Seeal. The situation has changed too dramatically."
"What has changed is that you got what you wanted and now you're throwing me to the Elite," she replied angrily, but keeping her control in place.
"If you want to get out of this in one piece-"
"Enough," the scarred Elite stated interrupting them. "We get her up to the ship now."
Robiah looked away to the man and Seeal saw his jaw work with impatience. "She came here alone."
"I know that," the scarred Elite replied with something close to dark satisfaction. She finally made herself look back at him, facing the demon that had haunted her nightmares these last few days. She would not fear him.
He held her gaze tauntingly, but she refused to look away, to show any fear. He would not intimidate her, even if he did currently have the upper hand. Because clearly they needed something from her, or they wouldn't have held fire, so she had something to work with there.
It couldn't just be about Creass, because Robiah would likely have already told them that she wouldn't give up any information on him.
She had no idea how Elite got their information out of people. They were considered to be heroes of the Alliance, so the promise of brutality and murder was likely out, but they were savage fighters and she had no idea how they felt about torture. She suspected the scarred Elite wouldn't have any trouble since it probably fit into his fanatical need for sacrifice for a higher cause that all Elite had.
"We take her to the ship," the Elite told Robiah, though he didn't look away from her, keeping the challenging staring match going. She remembered doing this with him back on Dreamstation. He hadn't looked away then and she suspected he wouldn't now, but she wasn't going to cower.
"Every minute she's on this planet, she's working out how to escape."
She lifted her chin higher. He was right of course.
"We get her to the ship, in restraints," he added with a nasty smile.
She felt the other taller Elite moving behind her, heard the stunner slid into its housing on his hip. She considered the changing options of escape as she glanced down to the shift of the tall Elite's shadow across the floor.
Strong hands closed around her elbows though, pulling them back and securing the restraints above her elbows and at her wrists. She calculated how to break his hold before he snapped the last part of the restraints into place, but she felt the other Elite's eyes on her still. Not yet.
The last snap and her elbows and forearms were restrained. She knew a few ways out of these, but they required tools and time to work on it. She had neither.
"I am sorry it had to be this way, Seeal," Robiah said from the left and she looked round at him with contempt.
"Move," the scarred Elite ordered as he moved across the room, his presence filling the space and itching at her nerves again, but she held her ground.
The Elite behind her pulled on her arm though, and she reluctantly turned away and followed the pull out into the empty garden out back. The Elite in front let go of her arm, but from behind one of the scarred Elite's big oafish hands closed completely around her right upper arm.
He shoved her forward to follow the other Elite, as behind them she heard Robiah saying something. He was coming with them apparently, good because she had some choice words for him.
The taller Elite ahead of them had reached the end of the garden and she and the other Elite followed. As they walked along the uneven path past the empty chairs and tables, she scanned the entire contents of the garden quickly, just moving her eyes, keeping her head facing forward.
There was little to use as a weapon, but if she could get away now, run into the carts moving away from the docks...
To the right, there were some pots the tavern's gardener had been planting with flowers, and beside them there was a sack of soil in which there was buried a small trowel. Its handle was barely visible, but if she kicked up the soil, perhaps...
The Elite's hand tightened around her upper arm, a silent warning, and he pushed her ahead faster, past the trowel. Damn him.
There was only one more option that she could see. Several buckets that probably were used to transport water, if she could kick one just right...
"Don't," the scarred Elite stated aggressively in warning.
Annoyed and frustrated that he had anticipated her plans so easily, she couldn't stay silent.
"I was looking at the flowers," she lied.
"Their soil maybe," the Elite replied, no doubt remembering how successfully she had used a handful of dirt against him last time.
"I'm glad to hear I made such an impression on you," she replied over her shoulder. "How are your eyes?"
"I see fine," he replied darkly. They had looked annoyingly normal back in the tavern. They could at least be red or infected.
The garden came to an end and her few weak options of distractions or potential weapons with it. She still had a knife in her boot, but she wasn't in the best state to either reach it or use it effectively.
As she was marched across the cart road, she noticed how little the traders were reacting. She would have thought two Elite warriors escorting a woman in restraints would cause more of a stir on Aldine, but the locals just paused to give way though, a few nodding to the Elite. One old man bowed and then scowled at her.
She rolled at her eyes at the spectacle.
At least if word got back to Creass somehow, he would not suspect her of having been an informant at having required two Elite to capture her.
Across the busy roads leading from the docks, there was only rough open ground ahead, and soon enough a small transport craft came into view, parked between two large storage buildings. She cursed herself for not having checked further afield from the tavern when she had arrived here.
The Elite pushed at her arm, steering her towards the craft, as ahead the tall Elite waved some kids away from their loud speculations about the transport craft. The kids, upon seeing Elite warriors approaching, dropped open their mouths for a moment before running away as fast as they could, chattering and squealing.
She saw the tall Elite smile as he turned, triggering open the craft's hatch.
The kids would probably be telling their tales of seeing real live Elite warriors to their friends for weeks. She guessed she would be cast in the role of something horrible, like a Wraith worshipper. She was in the military system now, in a whole new world of fanatical Wraith hunting and political driving Military power.
She reached the hatch to the craft and the tall Elite reached out to pull her up inside as the other one pushed her up. She was surprised at the assistance, but guessed it was necessary when she couldn't use her arms to climb up inside.
It was surprisingly bright inside the back part of the craft, which was decked out with two lines of seats on either side and more at the far end. The scarred Elite pulled and then pushed her down towards the seats to the left. She sat down heavily but didn't let out a sound.
Robiah entered the craft last and she watched him with narrowed eyes as he sealed the hatch closed and moved past her to take a seat across from her. He gave her a grim smile.
She looked away from him.
The scarred Elite moved in front of her and crouched down. His thick forearm pressed over her lower legs and he pulled her knife out of the inside of her boot.
Wraith shit.
The knife disappeared around the back of his belt and his hand returned with a restraint lead. She watched as he secured the restraint around one of her ankles. She was tempted to kick him, but held back because he would no doubt block it and then would probably stun her. As he rose up from the floor of the craft, he gave her a scowling look that suggested to her that he had felt the tightening in her leg at just thinking about kicking him.
He moved backwards away from her, the lead attached to the restraint dropping to the floor of the craft between them and he set his boot on it. If she did try to bolt, she would have to dislodge his weight off the restraint lead. She suspected he weighed considerably more than she did. It seemed extreme overkill anyway, as if she had anywhere to go. At least until the hatch opened.
He shifted to sit down directly opposite her, which forced Robiah to slid quickly out the way or be sat on by the Elite warrior. She almost smiled at that, but kept control of herself. She watched the Elite as he sat down, his boot securely planted on the lead and he sneered victoriously at her.
He hated her, she decided. Well, she didn't like him either.
"Where am I going to run exactly?" She asked him logically as the craft's engines roared softly to life under them.
"Nowhere," the Elite replied with satisfaction.
"We haven't searched her properly," Robiah noted, annoyingly, as the craft began to lift up from its hidden parking space.
"She's not carrying anything else she can use between here and the ship," the Elite replied, not taking his cold eyes off her.
"I showed you our file on her," Robiah added, "she's exceptionally skilled at escape. One account said she killed someone with a toothpick she had hidden under her tongue."
Seeal frowned at that slightly, but kept her gaze locked with the Elite, not letting him intimidate her.
"Stupid place to hide a pick," he replied to Robiah though, his threatening gaze never leaving its battle with hers. "Doubt that happened."
He was right, it was a stupid story, but close.
"It was a hairpin," she told him with a tight mocking smile. "And it was a computer lock I opened, not someone's throat."
"Break through doors with computer locks often?" the Elite asked in a way that suggested there was a particular door and lock he had in mind.
"She wasn't in Haven," Robiah said with impatience.
She had had enough of the investigator's voice and broke her staring battle with the Elite, feeling satisfied with her own control now and that the fear had been overcome. She looked at Robiah with the same stare.
"They forced me into this, Seeal," Robiah said immediately. "No one in the Alliance goes against the Elite."
"No one, anywhere," the Elite stressed, but Seeal kept her gaze on Robiah.
"You lied to me."
"You are a criminal," the scarred Elite put in with a scoffing tone. "You lie in your sleep."
She looked back at him defiantly, hating that judgemental tone. These Elite really did think themselves the superior beings of the galaxy just because they killed Wraith, throwing themselves into death, which they thought meant that everything they believed was somehow true.
"Tell me one law I have broken," she demanded, staring right into the Elite's cold blue eyes.
He laughed at her, but it turned more into a snarl. He sat forward, all threatening muscle and dark tattoos. She held her chin up, her mouth closed, and forced herself not to nervously swallow as her body wanted her to do.
"You were Creass' bodyguard," he told her.
"I was his security lead on Dreamstation," she corrected technically. "I kept that place in order, kept law there. If it hadn't been for me there would have been a thousand murders a week on that station."
"Because it was filled with criminals," the Elite replied angrily.
"Who were none of my concern," she replied. "I kept order. I never once involved myself in their dealings."
He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly unimpressed.
"Semantics will make no difference here, Seeal," Robiah offered. "Not with the Elite." He said it like he was trying to help her.
She looked at the Investigator with rising anger. "And didn't I help you? Help the Alliance keep track of the worst on the station?"
"Because he was blackmailing you," the Elite put in.
The craft banked slightly, vibrating as the taller Elite piloted them up through the high atmosphere over Aldine, but she didn't look away to the viewscreen. She didn't need to see what would be waiting for her.
"And what of my worthless brother, Robiah?" She asked Robiah calmly. "Will you still keep your word?"
Robiah glanced aside. There was something he hadn't told her. "I will see what I can do."
"What you can do?! You promised me."
"It's not my fault if he gets himself into trouble, Seeal," Robiah argued looking back at her again. "Your brother has a knack for doing so."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You said you were cleaning him up, would send him back home."
"He volunteered to go into the field for us," Robiah replied.
She shook her head at him, her anger tightening and rising to boiling point. He had sent Ulfur back out among criminals. "Back to drink and drugs? What a surprise that he would make that offer."
"He has been very helpful, especially now."
"And that's all that's important to you," she said low and angry. "You use people, discard them and move on. All for your greater good, no doubt."
Out the corner of her eye, she could see the Elite still watching her. He would not lose his focus, and even if he did, she had no way to exploit it here, nowhere to go. Except to fight for her freedom. That was all that really mattered. It always had been.
She looked away from Robiah in disgust and locked eyes with the Elite again. "If I give you the information that I have on whatever it is that you so desperately are after as to waste time capturing me, then you let me go."
The Elite didn't even blink. "You're not going anywhere. You will pay for your crimes."
"What crimes?" She demanded. "Working a legally contracted job outside Alliance space? Quick, there are so many more out there that you must get them all," she mocked.
She saw something shift in the blue eyes, but she wasn't sure what it was.
"Conspiracy," he said.
"I conspired with no one," she replied. "I had nothing to do with anything that was discussed of a criminal nature on Dreamstation."
He leant further forward almost nearing her across the craft. "You can speak technical definitions all you want, but you knew what Creass was from the start. You watched his back, and you let that traitor onto Dreamstation."
Of course this would be about Iketani. Seeal leant forward herself, the constraints digging into her upper arms. "I told him not to let that woman on the station," she insisted, almost losing some of her control. "I told him and he ignored me."
"But you knew what she was," he replied angrily in return.
"The Wraith tattoos were the big giveaway," she replied sarcastically, and purposefully slid her gaze to his own dark ink around the scar slicing across one side of his face.
He didn't respond in the least as she looked back into his gaze. He was not sensitive about his scars, probably thought of them as war wounds. She found herself looking back to the scar with more interest. It looked like one deep slice, but there was more extensive damage to the skin than a simple cut would cause. How he hadn't lost his eye had to have been a miracle. The tattoos, which formally had appeared a riotous mass around the scar, were actually smaller and more intricate and set specifically around the damage.
She imagined the pain of being tattooed on his face was nothing compared to how the original wound had hurt. The scar looked old, the skin well healed. He had been young when it happened.
Despite her better judgement, she felt a sudden empathy for him. She crushed it quickly, and locked her gaze back with his.
His eyes held hers still, cold blue. She hated the cold.
"I played no part in Iketani' involvement with Creass or Kolya," she said and there was an immediate reaction from the Elite warrior.
"How was she involved with Kolya?" He demanded.
Seeal held still. They hadn't known about Kolya and Iketani. She had something to work with here for sure. "If I tell you what you need to know," she said clearly, "then you let me go."
He was shaking his head before she had finished her terms. "You will tell us everything you know, tell us where Creass is, and then you will be judged."
She watched him watching her. There was nothing to read in his expression but stern aggressive confidence. And that ethical superiority of the Elite.
Which she realised she could use.
"As in put to death?" She asked him directly.
"I don't get to choose the method of your punishment," he replied.
"But you would hand me over to those who would kill me?"
He sat back and sighed as if bored. She knew that technique – it was one of her favourites.
"But then I suppose killing is not something that turns an Elite's stomach," she pushed.
He looked away from her, out to the front.
It was his first tell and she latched onto it immediately. From the overheard flow of radio conversation from the front of the craft, she could tell that they would be reaching their destination, presumably an Elite ship, at any moment. She needed to strike a deal now, with this Elite who, despite his intimidation and arrogance had given away that he had a moral compass. He was good at reading too, so she suspected he had believed some of what she had honestly told him. If this aggressive angry Elite could agree to her terms, then surely the other Elite could be no worse than him.
They were said to be heroes, well, heroes didn't have people killed for what they didn't do.
"I will tell you all that I know, with the one exception being Creass' current location," she stated as confidently and boldly as she could. The Elite looked at her with hate in his eyes again. He didn't like being manipulated. "I will honestly answer all the questions you ask, other than where he is. Creass is far from a good man, but he gave me a job and a safe place to sleep for the last ten years, and I will not betray him."
The Elite watched her, but she could tell he was thinking, so she kept going.
"And in return, once whatever this current dangerous situation is that has Robiah shitting himself," the Elite's cheek moved slightly – had that almost been a smile? "Then I get to go free. I'll leave Alliance space, go right across to the other side of the galaxy, and have nothing to do with anyone you could ever have issues with. I will tell you every single piece of intell I gathered on Iketani, all of it, and then you let me go."
A heavy shadow slid through the craft – they were entering a landing bay, but she kept her eyes on the Elite.
He sat forward again, and his eyes seeming sharper in the new artificial light that coursed in from the front.
"How about," he suggested and she didn't like the edge to his voice, "you tell us everything we want to know, you then stand trial for being the co-conspirator you have been for ten years. Ignorance and putting your fingers in your ears not being any excuse." She opened her mouth, but he continued. "And then we make sure your brother, Ulfur, gets to go home."
She shut her mouth. Damn him.
He watched her as the craft set down, shaking them all slightly.
Why should she protect Ulfur after all he had done to her? Why should he get to go home and she never would? Despite her best efforts, a deep old guilt over Ulfur still lingered. He was a grown man, but he had been young too when they had had to flee, and it hadn't been his fault any more than it had been hers. He had made more than enough mistakes to last a lifetime since, but her own guilt had still simmered away.
She looked away from the Elite to see the small bay outside the craft.
Damn her and her honour. Why could she not have been like the rest of her people?
Outside, she saw several other Elite across the bay as the craft's engines shut down. She was on an Elite ship – she had no chance of escape. Nowhere to run.
All she could do was work this situation as best she could and find a way to escape later. Hopefully.
Her freedom stolen from her again.
Damn Ulfur.
She looked back to the Elite. "And the death penalty?"
"I doubt it would ever stick in your case, even on Rosenthal," Robiah put in, but she kept her eyes on the Elite. Rosenthal were known to be furiously angry over the assassination of their High Councillor Garthew, and they had publically executed his assassin, and apparently had done the same to one other conspirator they had found. They would want to kill her too. For the show if for no other reason.
"No death penalty and I will not give you Creass' location," she pushed.
The hatch began to open to her right and she sensed a presence in the opening, but she didn't look round. She kept her gaze locked with the Elite with scars that she suspected were far worse than her own inner ones.
"No death penalty," he finally replied, "and Ulfur goes home."
He hadn't said anything about Creass, but she knew she had all she would from him. He stood up sharply, appearing angrier than before, and headed straight for the hatch, disappearing out of view.
She looked back to Robiah, who looked at her with raised eyebrows and a nod. "Well played, Seeal."
She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of him, but a large hand reached into the craft through the hatch and she was 'assisted' out into the Elite bay and lost her opportunity to deliver her cursing words to Robiah.
She would save them for later.
00000
TBC
