The clang of the cell door closing made Beka shiver. It sounded so final,
so remorseless. With a sigh, she slid down to a crouch, bracing her back
against the cold bars of their cell, cradling her injured hand. For a
while she stared blankly at the stained floor before her, grappling with
what had happened as the footsteps receded down the hallway.
When they'd arrived at the Ogami settlement, they'd been immediately marched to a large windowless building set apart from the rest of the structures. The closer Beka got to the building, the more she disliked it; an indefinable stench of despair hung in the air around it.
The building clearly housed the Ogami's penal system, since Beka got a glimpse of barred cells as they were hustled into what appeared to be a hearing room. For a short while, they waited, Beka avoiding the eyes of both Nietzscheans. Chilled, she ran her hands up and down her arms as the stone-faced Ogami held weapons trained on all three of them.
That was bad, that feeling of cold fear and isolation, but things quickly got worse. A stir at the door signaled the end to the waiting, and the sight of Dylan and Rommie, Dylan bruised and beaten, appalled her. She'd worried that he might be discovered in her hold, and his condition and the viciousness with which the Ogami guarding him pushed him toward their small, forlorn group spoke of a heated battle.
Beka took an impulsive step toward him, checking quickly at the unmistakable command from the Ogami closest to her. Dylan staggered at the shove, but continued without assistance, his gaze calm and his head held high. For a moment, their eyes met, and Beka squared her shoulders and raised her own chin in response to the unspoken command in Dylan's gaze. The opening door at the opposite end of the room signaled the entrance of additional Ogami, and the stance that their phalanx of guards assumed made the status of the newcomers clear.
The three Ogami who entered stood silently before a table, regarding the five prisoners. Beka, eyes on the new threat, felt more than saw Tyr move subtly closer to her; otherwise, the chamber was completely still. After a long pause, one Ogami spoke in garbled Common, uttering the words that Beka most dreaded.
"Dylan Hunt and Tyr Anasazi. Your identification has been confirmed. You are designated targets for the Ogami sisterhood, with contracts verified and remunerated. You are therefore sentenced to standard execution at Chr.4298, with no possibility of appeal."
Beka heard the death sentence with incredulous despair. This was it, then. The end of the road. And she couldn't even conceive of going on alone, with both of them gone. Beka's torment was so great she almost missed the next words.
"Companions of Hunt and Anasazi, you attempted to hide confirmed Ogami targets from the Sisterhood. You are therefore sentenced to Work Detail for 27 Standards, no possibility of appeal.
"Take them away."
As their guards moved closer to herd them from the chamber, desperation filled Beka, and she kicked her dismayed mind into gear. "Wait.WAIT!" Ringing through the chamber, her voice halted the departure of the commanding Ogami.
Urgently, Beka marshaled her thoughts, only to be interrupted by Hallow. "Ogami leaders," he bowed unctuously, "I am no part of this crew. I claim combat rights of resistance."
A startled pause, then the Ogami at the door spoke. "What know you of rights of resistance?"
"I know that any Ogami prisoner may claim them, regardless of sentence. I know that combat is one form. I know that your own laws and customers bind you to accept this claim."
"I claim the same for us all." Dylan's voice rang sure in the high- ceilinged chamber.
"I claim - err - reimbursement rights." Beka sounded less sure, but she was going to give this a try.
"We have no such thing as reimbursement rights."
"Listen - you want to earn your contract fee, right? I'll pay you ten times that fee and purchase the contract from you. Reimbursement for your trouble. And nothing to stop you from working on the original contract later, if you choose."
"Impossible. The Ogami accepts only one customer per target." Silence, then, to Dylan, "And as for your claim, you may not claim combat on behalf of any other than yourself. Given the beating you've already taken, are you certain you want to fight 20 armed Ogami every day for a week? Your chances of survival are.very poor."
Dylan's eyes widened fractionally as he took that in, but his certainty remained. "Poor is better than none. Yes."
"As do I," Tyr's velvet over steel voice easily carried to the front door.
"Count me in," echoed Rommie.
"Me, ahh.too," said Beka, yielding to the inevitable, despite Tyr's quick frown.
Again the Ogami were silent for a moment. "So be it," said the leader. "Combat to commence at Chr.4217. Now take them away." Despite the blurred enunciation, the Ogami leader's exasperation came through clearly.
As the Ogami herded the small group toward the area where Beka had earlier glimpsed cells, Tyr's big body moved right beside her, radiating warmth and solidity in the brush of his arm against hers. His restless gaze, carefully cataloguing their surroundings, evaluating, she knew, potential weapons, weaknesses, escape routes to ensure their survival, unexpectedly pinned her with its intentness. For several steps they walked in tandem, gazes locked together. Beka felt her eyes widen under the impact of that heated, meaningful look. No more distant Tyr here; he had once again apparently altered, and even her dragging despair from the Ogami's verdict couldn't entirely dampen down her pulses' glad leap as she found again such warmth in his eyes. Despite everything, Beka felt her lips curve as Tyr's gaze returned again to its relentless examination of the Ogami stronghold. She missed entirely the fulminating glare from the taller Nietzschean marching behind them.
"Nice trick, Severn. Anything else you want to let us in on?" They had barely reached the cell when Tyr started in on the massive Nietzschean.
To his surprise, Beka was right there with him. Her "Yeah, Hallow, after all we've meant to each other" resonated sarcasm, and she'd fixed the tall man with the Look, only interrupting her glare to glance at Rommie clucking over Dylan as the Captain gingerly sat.
Hallow looked defiant. "Not really."
"For the Divine's sake, Hallow!" Beka exploded. "What is wrong with you? When you're facing a superior force --."
"Nothing about the Ogami is superior."
"No? How about the fact they they've put YOU in a prison cell? With us? Your allies? Your compatriots in crime? How can you say they're not superior when you're stuck in here?" Tyr moved unobtrusively forward as Beka frowned for a moment, honestly puzzled. "Hallow, what's changed? Why are you so.different?"
For a moment, the large Nietzschean stilled. Defiance flared again in his damaged gaze as he returned, "Different? I don't know what you mean."
Tyr sighed a little as he saw hurt dawn in Beka's eyes. Really, he'd put up with quite enough from that quarter. "Beka," he said, his tone gentle. Her eyes flew to his, and in response to the slight tilt of his head toward Dylan, she surprised him by complying immediately, exhaling sharply and turning away from the massive Nietzschean.
As Beka crouched beside Dylan, Tyr turned back to the other Nietzschean. His tone was not friendly. "What else do you know?"
For a moment, the taller man eyed him, gaze made fearsome by the way his expression twisted his disfigured features. "Funny how I have value now, isn't it?"
Tyr regarded him, impassive.
"Did she think I wouldn't figure it out? The only reason she's been friendly, chatting me up - the only reason - is to get to you. That's it. Why pretend further now?"
Tyr looked up at the hulking figure. Severn's fists clenched as Tyr allowed pity to find its way to his features. "Severn," he drawled, "the only thing you hear is your own inferiority whispering in your ear. Captain Valentine can be contrary, but she's rarely politic or manipulative. She talked to you because she enjoyed it."
Tyr's complete dispassion, the indifference with which he spoke, seemed to convince the other man. Severn exhaled, leaning a little against the bars behind him. For a moment his tormented gaze touched on Beka's kneeling figure, his superior hearing, Tyr knew, easily deciphering her murmuring inquiries as to her Captain's condition. Then, a darkness seemed to drop from his features, and he looked back at Tyr, compliant.
"I don't know anything much else; I just remember an uncle of mine crossed the Ogami and lived by the challenge we just issued. I wish," he sighed heavily, "I knew more. I have no desire to finally make it out of exile only to die."
Pity again took Tyr as he regarded the other man's bleak expression, but he would never fully forgive Severn for his original intent toward Beka. Indeed, Tyr thought briefly, Beka's apparent willingness to overlook Severn's intended rape astounded him. For a moment he puzzled anew over that, his eyes on her slim figure, then her eyes lifted to his and the warmth in her gaze drove the thought from his mind.
With difficulty, Tyr forced himself to pay attention to the other Niet. "None of us is ready to die. We all want to survive."
To that, Severn evidently had no reply. Tyr leaned against the bars beside the taller Niet, his thoughts still bleak but warmed by Beka's frequent looks in his direction.
"So, how is he?" Beka spoke softly, part of her attention on the two tense Nietzscheans behind her.
"He has several injuries, but will survive - if the Ogami allow it," Rommie returned. "How are you Beka? Dylan has been concerned about you and Tyr."
"We've also survived - so far. Things have happened pretty quickly."
Rommie nodded, her gaze bleak. "Don't they always?" she asked ironically. "I just hope Harper can get here.rapidly."
Beka smiled over at Tyr, lounging next to Hallow, before agreeing wholeheartedly with Rommie. "Me, too."
Rising to her feet, Beka rubbed her hands over her bare arms again as she walked the circumference of their cell, looking carefully at its structure. Several cameras followed her motion, and she easily picked out the microphones mounted on the ceiling. They appeared to be under constant visual and audio surveillance. She still had the lockpicks in her bra - she'd had them made in all her bras - but could she even get them out undetected?
As her perambulations took her closer to the Nietzscheans, Tyr's scent drifted to her, and she took a deep breath to draw it into her lungs. Closing her eyes for a moment, she savored the scent, again allowing herself to feel the warmth of him, the intensity of her own response. That intensity gave her an idea; she stopped in front of him and fixed him with a meaningful look.
Tyr's eyes widened at her closeness, and then narrowed a little at the intentness in her gaze. He immediately picked up the sub-text in her next words. "Tyr," she breathed with an odd emphasis, "hold me."
For a moment he weighed her intent, then, ignoring his clamoring senses, he stepped deliberately closer and gently enfolded her in his massive arms. Her arms clasped around his waist, and for a second she simply held him, hard, relaxing into his embrace with an odd little sigh.
Then, Beka took a small step, angling them both so that their bodies hid her right arm from view. As she rested her cheek against his chest, her arm came up between them, unzipping the shirt she'd changed into on the Maru. Finally gleaning her intent, Tyr angled a little more, giving her space to reach inside her bra to work out the slim silver tools while their embrace hid her actions from the camera's view.
Tyr took a deep breath as the feel of her rioted through his senses. He extended his control as her hand moved against his chest. The bare skin of her breast momentarily brushing against him as she struggled to remove the lockpicks inflamed him, but he held tight to his control. This is no mating ploy, he firmly instructed his instincts. It's about survival.
Still, he reveled in the feel of her in his arms, and the tiny clink that spoke of her success in freeing the tools disappointed him. He couldn't allow this to end yet. Tyr blinked, licking his lips, then moved his left hand to lift her chin. The desire scorching from his eyes drove the mischievous triumph from hers, and then he saw no more as his mouth claimed hers.
Beka's success in liberating her lockpicks elated her, but Tyr's sizzling gaze stopped that and every other thought. As his lips met hers, all she could think was, At last. Finally, they had made it. They had come..home. There, in the dingy cell, under the bemused gaze of her Captain and crewmate, Beka cast her whole heart unprotected into Tyr's keeping. She could no more resist the feelings of completion than she could resist the desire flaming out of control as his clever mouth moved over hers. And then she could think no further, only feel, as his kiss shattered through her system. She barely kept hold of the lockpicks as her arms crept under his locks, around his neck, holding him to her.
Tyr cursed himself as the clatter of the cell door opening shattered his complete absorption in Beka. How could he have forgotten their surroundings, their danger? Gently, he broke the kiss, holding her trembling body close as she gasped for air against his chest. His own chest lifted as he breathed deeply, trying to clear his thoughts. As three Ogami entered the cell, Beka stiffened, clearly sharing his abrupt return to awareness of their surroundings.
Beka turned in his arms, putting herself between him and the Ogami. A smile touched his lips, still glistening from their kiss, at the gesture, as his gaze tried to divine the intruder's intent. The smile disappeared and he smoothly set her behind him as the Ogami moved in their direction, but the mercenaries stopped in front of the other Niet. For a moment, Tyr's eyes met the embittered gaze of his fellow Nietzschean, and then Severn turned away, obeying Ogami's insistent gestures.
From behind Tyr, Beka made an indignant noise and moved beside him, her anxious gaze fixed on Severn's retreating back. This was it, then. Hallow would face his first challenge by combat. The worry she felt marked her voice as she called after him, "Good luck, Hallow!"
The taller Nietzschean stopped short at her words, glancing over his shoulder as if to gauge the sincerity of her words. When his eyes met her anxious ones, he nodded shortly in acknowledgement, then walked out of the cell. The door clanged closed behind him, and Beka watched the locking mechanism carefully, lockpicks still hidden in her hand.
* * *
Once the Ogami had retreated with Hallow in their clutches, Beka eyed again, with apparent idleness, the cameras surrounding them. Only one focused on the door; Beka squinted as she calculated camera angles and timing. Perhaps she could-
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the clasp of a strong brown hand on her upper arm. Beka frowned as Tyr dragged her over by the very area she'd been watching, but her frown fell away as he backed her up against the cell door with unmistakable intent.
For a split second, Beka paused, eyes wide, as she looked at the handsome face so near hers. She felt breathless, almost witless at the strong tide of emotion flowing through her. Only hours earlier she'd been so angry with this man that she could have shot him with very little provocation. Now, she knew that that anger had arisen from the depth of her passion for him.
This emotional see-saw wore on her, and added to it the strain of captivity and potential death. For a moment, Beka reeled perceptibly, color draining from her skin.
Tyr had been watching her with unmistakable intent, but as her face whitened, his emotions shifted and his clasp turned from passionate to comforting. Instead of kissing her senseless - as she was apparently already near senseless, he reflected wryly - he moved to simply hold her, cradling her against his broad chest. Tenderness took him as he felt her melt into his embrace.
This, he supposed, would work as well as the other way he'd planned to hold her. It would probably distract him less, as well. Subtly, Tyr moved his arm until his hand found hers. He relieved her slack grip of the lockpicks, and pressed more of his body against hers, backing her more firmly up to the cell door, so that he could attempt to wield them.
Beka's eyes widened as he turned the tables so neatly on her earlier move, and then she relaxed back into his arms, content to be close to him. For just a moment, she put her restless mind on hold, dismissing all the cares of her situation, and reveled in the feel of his body pressed against hers. She heard Dylan's gasp from across the cell, Rommie's quiet murmur explaining, and then she simply stood and breathed and felt him all along her.
A subtle clink spoke of either success or failure, and Beka tilted her face up to his to discover which. That disturbing gaze was fixed on her again, a small smile dancing in the back of it. She interpreted this as success, and her own smile grew in return. Once again Tyr's strong hand sought her face, but this time she raised her chin to reach his mouth herself. His hand splayed along the front of her neck as she opened her lips for another kiss.
Though he dimly perceived that any delay in using their opened door threatened their survival, Tyr couldn't resist one more taste of the lips so temptingly within his reach. No time for subtlety now, and no way to know when he might get to do this again. Tyr crushed Beka's mouth under his, loosening slightly the rigid control that so characterized him. For a moment he gave his strength and hunger free rein; for a moment he let her see what it might be to be wanted by a Nietzschean.
To his delight, she met that passion head on. No more lightheadedness or dizziness, she returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress until the gentle flame he had meant to start threatened to explode beyond control. With great difficult, Tyr gentled his embrace, softened his kiss. Though he was more than intrigued by the quality of her response, now was certainly not the time to explore further.
Tyr stopped kissing her, straightening with reluctance. His gaze touched her face as he stepped back, but her downcast eyes defeated his attempt to discover what was written in her gaze. With her lips still swollen from his assault, she enticed him, but he forced himself to focus on survival. They had to get off this planet, and then. then he would see if he could make that fire burn even hotter.
Keeping one reassuring hand on her arm, Tyr turned to Dylan and Rommie. Meeting the sternly shocked gaze of his Captain, Tyr smiled faintly, then gestured with his head to the now-unlocked door. Dylan's eyes widened in understanding, and for a moment apology touched his expression - an apology, Tyr thought sardonically, that he certainly did not deserve. His kissing Beka had not just been part of the plan. Kissing Beka had been irresistible.
Dylan, wincing a little, got to his feet, and he and Rommie moved up near the door. Almost as soon as Tyr swung it wide, dashing down the hall in a direction opposite where the Ogami had taken Hallow, alarms began to sound. Tyr watched in a rage as a gate before him slid closed; with an adrenalin- driven wrench he stopped it in its tracks, straining to keep it open as Beka, Dylan and Rommie slithered through.
Tyr quickly followed, and Beka, leading the wall, called back to him as she hit another corridor. "Direction?"
"Go right!" he shouted, pelting along the hard floor. Beka led the others right, and all four fetched up hard against another gate that had already closed. Tyr shouldered his way to the front, Beka's lockpicks still in hand, and frantically began to work on the lock as running footsteps sounded ever louder behind them.
The barking commands of the Ogami's native language sounded just behind them, and Tyr aborted his attempt, whirling instead to face the fighters running toward them. With a quick glance at Dylan, he moved to one side of the broad corridor as Dylan took the other. Rommie and Beka stood firm in the middle, ready to fight.
Before Tyr could begin the attack, however, a strange hissing noise began above them, and clear walls dropped down all around them.
"Gas!" gasped Beka, beginning to cough. Even with his enhanced Nietzschean physiognomy, Tyr could only resist its effects long enough to break her fall as she collapsed. Agony took him as the chemicals tore through his lungs, then all went black.
As the Andromeda emerged, finally, into normal space in the system where they'd left Tyr and Beka, Harper and Trance's disquiet prevented even a congratulatory murmur. Trance's certainty that danger threatened the others imminently drove them; as soon as Andromeda's scans registered the several hundred Ogami fighters still patrolling in the system, Harper's supercharged reflexes were ready.
With a quick 180, the Andromeda flipped behind a nearby moon, switched directions, then, in a move worthy of a Valentine, skipped the moon's weak atmosphere to dodge behind the planet where Dylan had been retrieving his CO and resident Niet. To Harper's jubilation, no fighters broke off to follow.
"Status?" Harper barked, as he fired reverse thrusters to halt Andromeda's forward motion.
"Nearly 1000 Ogami fighters of all shapes and sizes are orbiting the large planet, Harper. And Tyr, Beka, and Dylan are all on it. My avatar informs me that they are imprisoned by the Ogami, Dylan and Tyr have been sentenced to death, and they have all just been gassed while attempting an escape. Things," she concluded from the forward viewscreen, "do not look great."
"Great!" Harper echoed with immense sarcasm. "So, you're telling me that we have to rescue them from an Ogami planet - most likely a home world, right?" He paused for her confirming nod. "And evade nearly 1000 ships to do it? And how do you suggest we do that?"
"Ambush," answered Trance, firmly.
"What?" Harper demanded, full of indignation.
"We ambush an Ogami fighter, take it over, and fly to the planet. And Harper, we need to do it right now."
"Oh, great," Harper grumbled, nevertheless readying the controls. "Galil?"
Galil, standing quietly in the corner of the Com Deck holding her son, said, "Yes?"
"I'm leaving you the con."
"Wh - what? Are you crazy, Harper? I can't command this ship!"
"Listen, Galil. If something happens to us, the Andromeda needs an organic to fly her out of here, otherwise she'll be lost in the Slipstream for months. I promised Rommie I wouldn't let that happen to her."
"But - but Harper - Trance? I'm not ready to fly the Andromeda. I'm only a guest here!"
"I know, Galil," Trance murmured, "but we need you to stay here and do this, OK? We both need to get to that planet!"
Trance pinned Galil with her intent, earnest gaze, and after a moment, the other woman gave in with a sigh. "OK, OK. I'll - err - hold down the fort. But I want you guys to promise me you'll come back!"
"We promise," said Harper, only slightly sarcastic. "OK, Trance, pick me out a fighter and let's deploy the drones."
In remarkably short order, Trance had identified and cleverly enticed an Ogami fighter within the reach of their drones. Jamming their communications, Harper maneuvered the bucky cables to tow the resisting figher into the Andromeda, taking care to ensure that the fighter could not blast its way right back out by disabling the ship's laser cannons.
Once he'd secured the fighter on deck, Harper asked Andromeda to flood the deck with a knockout gas that she assured him would eliminate the Ogami for hours. With three Maria bots, Harper forced open the Ogami hatch and rendered the Sisterhood members inside quickly unconscious. As the Maria bots carried two captives to the ship's rarely-used brig, Andromeda vented the deck.
Harper and Trance bounded aboard the fighter, Trance continuing to urge Harper to haste until he exclaimed irritably, "I got it, I got it, Trance! I'm goin' as fast as I can here!"
Harper plugged himself into the Ogami ship's interface, requested the hangar doors be reopened, and blasted into space with very little other preparation, trusting in his quick wits to fly and land the fighter without arousing suspicion. As the multitude of other ships swam into view around him, he hoped he could do it.
Rommie sat in a corner, legs straight out in front of her, contemplating her torn "skin." When the gas had felled Dylan and the others, she had feigned being overcome, too, so that she could try to resist the Ogami. But too many had swarmed around the bodies of her crew; although she launched herself with deadly efficiency at the nearest ones, she was overcome by weapons fire and hand to hand combat after several minutes of hard fighting.
Now, she sat in the cell with her crewmates, her hand absently resting on Dylan's outflung wrist to feel his reassuringly steady pulse. She'd been in contact with her AI, and knew the Andromeda had finally reached the system, but she worried about the rescue effort from Harper and Trance. She adored Harper, really she did, but he was probably not her first choice for rescues.
Of course, her first, second, and third choices lay crumpled unclad beside her, still breathing raspily from the effects of the neurogas.
Rommie's brows creased as she heard footsteps coming again toward their cell. Four Ogami tromped up to the cell door, dragging a crumpled figure between them. It looked as though the other Nietzschean had survived his first combat challenge, though he did not look healthy. With little care, the Ogami hauled the massive man into the cell, and dumped him onto the floor in front of her.
Next the captors focused on Tyr for a moment, bringing a bigger frown to Rommie's brow. They bent over the Nietzschean's prone form, prodding his skin and shaking him roughly. When Tyr showed no sign of life, one Ogami swiftly kicked him in the side, evidently more to test his unconsciousness than to do real harm. Despite the blow, Tyr remained quiescent, and after some muttered conversation, the Ogami departed.
Tyr, Dylan and especially Beka looked different than before, as the Ogami had stripped each of them down to underclothes before throwing them back into the cell. Rommie, rendered helpless by a powerful electrical discharge from an Ogami weapon, had been unable to help her friends; the Ogami had removed clothes, the lockpicks and anything else that her crew might have used to escape again.
Rommie continued her helpless vigil as her crew slept on, noting with concern the advent of Beka's shivers, but unable to help her.
"Whoo-hoo!" Trance smiled a little as Harper gave vent to his relief. They'd done it! They'd evaded suspicion and landed on the planet's surface only a few thousand meters from where their crew's tracking bots pulsed on their display. Moving quickly, Trance grabbed an array of weapons, tossing a blaster and forcelance to Harper, and led the way out of the small craft. Fitting all of them into the ship for a return trip would be challenging, Trance noted with a fleeting frown, but she certainly hoped they got to face that challenge by freeing her friends.
Moving stealthily out of the ship, Trance and Harper surveyed the surrounding brush. Spiky, brown and pungent, it wasn't too pleasant but nevertheless provided adequate covering. While Harper had quickly responded to the planetary docking system's hail, he worried that he hadn't had the codes right. And so, he valued the cover.
The hot, dusty breeze ruffled his hair, but the golden locks bouncing just in front of him hung too heavily to be swayed by the errant wind. Harper wasn't sure if she was following her scanner or her particular locator talents, but either way, he was content to watch Trance's back as she forged her way through the undergrowth.
As the brush got lighter, Harper put a gentle hand on Trance's arm. "Hold on a sec," he said in response to her inquiring look. Using his sub-vocal communicator, Harper risked a brief question. "Rommie, you there?"
In the cell where she still sat immobilized, Rommie's eyes snapped open. "Harper, where are you?"
"Maybe 300 meters from your building, I think."
"Well, take cover and wait. Everyone's unconscious and I don't think we could move them. Harper - I can't move."
"What? Rommie, what'd they do to you?"
The indignation and concern in his voice warmed her, and her "Shot me with some kind of electrical discharge" rang with that warmth.
"Hell." Harper was silent for a moment, brow knit, as Trance stood patiently waiting beside him. "Can you reroute your auxiliary relays through the secondary nerve array? Will that help things?"
"I am not sure, but I will try it. Harper - shhh. Someone's coming!"
In the brush outside, Harper tongued off his implant and drew Trance into a crouch. "We need to hang out here for a bit, Trance. Everyone's out."
"Out?"
"They're all unconscious and even Rommie can't move."
"Oh, dear," Trance moaned, brow knit. "We've got to get them out of there."
"I know, Trance. But we can't carry them all."
Frowning fiercely, Trance subsided, clearly evaluating alternatives as Harper waited to hear back from Rommie.
* * *
When they'd arrived at the Ogami settlement, they'd been immediately marched to a large windowless building set apart from the rest of the structures. The closer Beka got to the building, the more she disliked it; an indefinable stench of despair hung in the air around it.
The building clearly housed the Ogami's penal system, since Beka got a glimpse of barred cells as they were hustled into what appeared to be a hearing room. For a short while, they waited, Beka avoiding the eyes of both Nietzscheans. Chilled, she ran her hands up and down her arms as the stone-faced Ogami held weapons trained on all three of them.
That was bad, that feeling of cold fear and isolation, but things quickly got worse. A stir at the door signaled the end to the waiting, and the sight of Dylan and Rommie, Dylan bruised and beaten, appalled her. She'd worried that he might be discovered in her hold, and his condition and the viciousness with which the Ogami guarding him pushed him toward their small, forlorn group spoke of a heated battle.
Beka took an impulsive step toward him, checking quickly at the unmistakable command from the Ogami closest to her. Dylan staggered at the shove, but continued without assistance, his gaze calm and his head held high. For a moment, their eyes met, and Beka squared her shoulders and raised her own chin in response to the unspoken command in Dylan's gaze. The opening door at the opposite end of the room signaled the entrance of additional Ogami, and the stance that their phalanx of guards assumed made the status of the newcomers clear.
The three Ogami who entered stood silently before a table, regarding the five prisoners. Beka, eyes on the new threat, felt more than saw Tyr move subtly closer to her; otherwise, the chamber was completely still. After a long pause, one Ogami spoke in garbled Common, uttering the words that Beka most dreaded.
"Dylan Hunt and Tyr Anasazi. Your identification has been confirmed. You are designated targets for the Ogami sisterhood, with contracts verified and remunerated. You are therefore sentenced to standard execution at Chr.4298, with no possibility of appeal."
Beka heard the death sentence with incredulous despair. This was it, then. The end of the road. And she couldn't even conceive of going on alone, with both of them gone. Beka's torment was so great she almost missed the next words.
"Companions of Hunt and Anasazi, you attempted to hide confirmed Ogami targets from the Sisterhood. You are therefore sentenced to Work Detail for 27 Standards, no possibility of appeal.
"Take them away."
As their guards moved closer to herd them from the chamber, desperation filled Beka, and she kicked her dismayed mind into gear. "Wait.WAIT!" Ringing through the chamber, her voice halted the departure of the commanding Ogami.
Urgently, Beka marshaled her thoughts, only to be interrupted by Hallow. "Ogami leaders," he bowed unctuously, "I am no part of this crew. I claim combat rights of resistance."
A startled pause, then the Ogami at the door spoke. "What know you of rights of resistance?"
"I know that any Ogami prisoner may claim them, regardless of sentence. I know that combat is one form. I know that your own laws and customers bind you to accept this claim."
"I claim the same for us all." Dylan's voice rang sure in the high- ceilinged chamber.
"I claim - err - reimbursement rights." Beka sounded less sure, but she was going to give this a try.
"We have no such thing as reimbursement rights."
"Listen - you want to earn your contract fee, right? I'll pay you ten times that fee and purchase the contract from you. Reimbursement for your trouble. And nothing to stop you from working on the original contract later, if you choose."
"Impossible. The Ogami accepts only one customer per target." Silence, then, to Dylan, "And as for your claim, you may not claim combat on behalf of any other than yourself. Given the beating you've already taken, are you certain you want to fight 20 armed Ogami every day for a week? Your chances of survival are.very poor."
Dylan's eyes widened fractionally as he took that in, but his certainty remained. "Poor is better than none. Yes."
"As do I," Tyr's velvet over steel voice easily carried to the front door.
"Count me in," echoed Rommie.
"Me, ahh.too," said Beka, yielding to the inevitable, despite Tyr's quick frown.
Again the Ogami were silent for a moment. "So be it," said the leader. "Combat to commence at Chr.4217. Now take them away." Despite the blurred enunciation, the Ogami leader's exasperation came through clearly.
As the Ogami herded the small group toward the area where Beka had earlier glimpsed cells, Tyr's big body moved right beside her, radiating warmth and solidity in the brush of his arm against hers. His restless gaze, carefully cataloguing their surroundings, evaluating, she knew, potential weapons, weaknesses, escape routes to ensure their survival, unexpectedly pinned her with its intentness. For several steps they walked in tandem, gazes locked together. Beka felt her eyes widen under the impact of that heated, meaningful look. No more distant Tyr here; he had once again apparently altered, and even her dragging despair from the Ogami's verdict couldn't entirely dampen down her pulses' glad leap as she found again such warmth in his eyes. Despite everything, Beka felt her lips curve as Tyr's gaze returned again to its relentless examination of the Ogami stronghold. She missed entirely the fulminating glare from the taller Nietzschean marching behind them.
"Nice trick, Severn. Anything else you want to let us in on?" They had barely reached the cell when Tyr started in on the massive Nietzschean.
To his surprise, Beka was right there with him. Her "Yeah, Hallow, after all we've meant to each other" resonated sarcasm, and she'd fixed the tall man with the Look, only interrupting her glare to glance at Rommie clucking over Dylan as the Captain gingerly sat.
Hallow looked defiant. "Not really."
"For the Divine's sake, Hallow!" Beka exploded. "What is wrong with you? When you're facing a superior force --."
"Nothing about the Ogami is superior."
"No? How about the fact they they've put YOU in a prison cell? With us? Your allies? Your compatriots in crime? How can you say they're not superior when you're stuck in here?" Tyr moved unobtrusively forward as Beka frowned for a moment, honestly puzzled. "Hallow, what's changed? Why are you so.different?"
For a moment, the large Nietzschean stilled. Defiance flared again in his damaged gaze as he returned, "Different? I don't know what you mean."
Tyr sighed a little as he saw hurt dawn in Beka's eyes. Really, he'd put up with quite enough from that quarter. "Beka," he said, his tone gentle. Her eyes flew to his, and in response to the slight tilt of his head toward Dylan, she surprised him by complying immediately, exhaling sharply and turning away from the massive Nietzschean.
As Beka crouched beside Dylan, Tyr turned back to the other Nietzschean. His tone was not friendly. "What else do you know?"
For a moment, the taller man eyed him, gaze made fearsome by the way his expression twisted his disfigured features. "Funny how I have value now, isn't it?"
Tyr regarded him, impassive.
"Did she think I wouldn't figure it out? The only reason she's been friendly, chatting me up - the only reason - is to get to you. That's it. Why pretend further now?"
Tyr looked up at the hulking figure. Severn's fists clenched as Tyr allowed pity to find its way to his features. "Severn," he drawled, "the only thing you hear is your own inferiority whispering in your ear. Captain Valentine can be contrary, but she's rarely politic or manipulative. She talked to you because she enjoyed it."
Tyr's complete dispassion, the indifference with which he spoke, seemed to convince the other man. Severn exhaled, leaning a little against the bars behind him. For a moment his tormented gaze touched on Beka's kneeling figure, his superior hearing, Tyr knew, easily deciphering her murmuring inquiries as to her Captain's condition. Then, a darkness seemed to drop from his features, and he looked back at Tyr, compliant.
"I don't know anything much else; I just remember an uncle of mine crossed the Ogami and lived by the challenge we just issued. I wish," he sighed heavily, "I knew more. I have no desire to finally make it out of exile only to die."
Pity again took Tyr as he regarded the other man's bleak expression, but he would never fully forgive Severn for his original intent toward Beka. Indeed, Tyr thought briefly, Beka's apparent willingness to overlook Severn's intended rape astounded him. For a moment he puzzled anew over that, his eyes on her slim figure, then her eyes lifted to his and the warmth in her gaze drove the thought from his mind.
With difficulty, Tyr forced himself to pay attention to the other Niet. "None of us is ready to die. We all want to survive."
To that, Severn evidently had no reply. Tyr leaned against the bars beside the taller Niet, his thoughts still bleak but warmed by Beka's frequent looks in his direction.
"So, how is he?" Beka spoke softly, part of her attention on the two tense Nietzscheans behind her.
"He has several injuries, but will survive - if the Ogami allow it," Rommie returned. "How are you Beka? Dylan has been concerned about you and Tyr."
"We've also survived - so far. Things have happened pretty quickly."
Rommie nodded, her gaze bleak. "Don't they always?" she asked ironically. "I just hope Harper can get here.rapidly."
Beka smiled over at Tyr, lounging next to Hallow, before agreeing wholeheartedly with Rommie. "Me, too."
Rising to her feet, Beka rubbed her hands over her bare arms again as she walked the circumference of their cell, looking carefully at its structure. Several cameras followed her motion, and she easily picked out the microphones mounted on the ceiling. They appeared to be under constant visual and audio surveillance. She still had the lockpicks in her bra - she'd had them made in all her bras - but could she even get them out undetected?
As her perambulations took her closer to the Nietzscheans, Tyr's scent drifted to her, and she took a deep breath to draw it into her lungs. Closing her eyes for a moment, she savored the scent, again allowing herself to feel the warmth of him, the intensity of her own response. That intensity gave her an idea; she stopped in front of him and fixed him with a meaningful look.
Tyr's eyes widened at her closeness, and then narrowed a little at the intentness in her gaze. He immediately picked up the sub-text in her next words. "Tyr," she breathed with an odd emphasis, "hold me."
For a moment he weighed her intent, then, ignoring his clamoring senses, he stepped deliberately closer and gently enfolded her in his massive arms. Her arms clasped around his waist, and for a second she simply held him, hard, relaxing into his embrace with an odd little sigh.
Then, Beka took a small step, angling them both so that their bodies hid her right arm from view. As she rested her cheek against his chest, her arm came up between them, unzipping the shirt she'd changed into on the Maru. Finally gleaning her intent, Tyr angled a little more, giving her space to reach inside her bra to work out the slim silver tools while their embrace hid her actions from the camera's view.
Tyr took a deep breath as the feel of her rioted through his senses. He extended his control as her hand moved against his chest. The bare skin of her breast momentarily brushing against him as she struggled to remove the lockpicks inflamed him, but he held tight to his control. This is no mating ploy, he firmly instructed his instincts. It's about survival.
Still, he reveled in the feel of her in his arms, and the tiny clink that spoke of her success in freeing the tools disappointed him. He couldn't allow this to end yet. Tyr blinked, licking his lips, then moved his left hand to lift her chin. The desire scorching from his eyes drove the mischievous triumph from hers, and then he saw no more as his mouth claimed hers.
Beka's success in liberating her lockpicks elated her, but Tyr's sizzling gaze stopped that and every other thought. As his lips met hers, all she could think was, At last. Finally, they had made it. They had come..home. There, in the dingy cell, under the bemused gaze of her Captain and crewmate, Beka cast her whole heart unprotected into Tyr's keeping. She could no more resist the feelings of completion than she could resist the desire flaming out of control as his clever mouth moved over hers. And then she could think no further, only feel, as his kiss shattered through her system. She barely kept hold of the lockpicks as her arms crept under his locks, around his neck, holding him to her.
Tyr cursed himself as the clatter of the cell door opening shattered his complete absorption in Beka. How could he have forgotten their surroundings, their danger? Gently, he broke the kiss, holding her trembling body close as she gasped for air against his chest. His own chest lifted as he breathed deeply, trying to clear his thoughts. As three Ogami entered the cell, Beka stiffened, clearly sharing his abrupt return to awareness of their surroundings.
Beka turned in his arms, putting herself between him and the Ogami. A smile touched his lips, still glistening from their kiss, at the gesture, as his gaze tried to divine the intruder's intent. The smile disappeared and he smoothly set her behind him as the Ogami moved in their direction, but the mercenaries stopped in front of the other Niet. For a moment, Tyr's eyes met the embittered gaze of his fellow Nietzschean, and then Severn turned away, obeying Ogami's insistent gestures.
From behind Tyr, Beka made an indignant noise and moved beside him, her anxious gaze fixed on Severn's retreating back. This was it, then. Hallow would face his first challenge by combat. The worry she felt marked her voice as she called after him, "Good luck, Hallow!"
The taller Nietzschean stopped short at her words, glancing over his shoulder as if to gauge the sincerity of her words. When his eyes met her anxious ones, he nodded shortly in acknowledgement, then walked out of the cell. The door clanged closed behind him, and Beka watched the locking mechanism carefully, lockpicks still hidden in her hand.
* * *
Once the Ogami had retreated with Hallow in their clutches, Beka eyed again, with apparent idleness, the cameras surrounding them. Only one focused on the door; Beka squinted as she calculated camera angles and timing. Perhaps she could-
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the clasp of a strong brown hand on her upper arm. Beka frowned as Tyr dragged her over by the very area she'd been watching, but her frown fell away as he backed her up against the cell door with unmistakable intent.
For a split second, Beka paused, eyes wide, as she looked at the handsome face so near hers. She felt breathless, almost witless at the strong tide of emotion flowing through her. Only hours earlier she'd been so angry with this man that she could have shot him with very little provocation. Now, she knew that that anger had arisen from the depth of her passion for him.
This emotional see-saw wore on her, and added to it the strain of captivity and potential death. For a moment, Beka reeled perceptibly, color draining from her skin.
Tyr had been watching her with unmistakable intent, but as her face whitened, his emotions shifted and his clasp turned from passionate to comforting. Instead of kissing her senseless - as she was apparently already near senseless, he reflected wryly - he moved to simply hold her, cradling her against his broad chest. Tenderness took him as he felt her melt into his embrace.
This, he supposed, would work as well as the other way he'd planned to hold her. It would probably distract him less, as well. Subtly, Tyr moved his arm until his hand found hers. He relieved her slack grip of the lockpicks, and pressed more of his body against hers, backing her more firmly up to the cell door, so that he could attempt to wield them.
Beka's eyes widened as he turned the tables so neatly on her earlier move, and then she relaxed back into his arms, content to be close to him. For just a moment, she put her restless mind on hold, dismissing all the cares of her situation, and reveled in the feel of his body pressed against hers. She heard Dylan's gasp from across the cell, Rommie's quiet murmur explaining, and then she simply stood and breathed and felt him all along her.
A subtle clink spoke of either success or failure, and Beka tilted her face up to his to discover which. That disturbing gaze was fixed on her again, a small smile dancing in the back of it. She interpreted this as success, and her own smile grew in return. Once again Tyr's strong hand sought her face, but this time she raised her chin to reach his mouth herself. His hand splayed along the front of her neck as she opened her lips for another kiss.
Though he dimly perceived that any delay in using their opened door threatened their survival, Tyr couldn't resist one more taste of the lips so temptingly within his reach. No time for subtlety now, and no way to know when he might get to do this again. Tyr crushed Beka's mouth under his, loosening slightly the rigid control that so characterized him. For a moment he gave his strength and hunger free rein; for a moment he let her see what it might be to be wanted by a Nietzschean.
To his delight, she met that passion head on. No more lightheadedness or dizziness, she returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress until the gentle flame he had meant to start threatened to explode beyond control. With great difficult, Tyr gentled his embrace, softened his kiss. Though he was more than intrigued by the quality of her response, now was certainly not the time to explore further.
Tyr stopped kissing her, straightening with reluctance. His gaze touched her face as he stepped back, but her downcast eyes defeated his attempt to discover what was written in her gaze. With her lips still swollen from his assault, she enticed him, but he forced himself to focus on survival. They had to get off this planet, and then. then he would see if he could make that fire burn even hotter.
Keeping one reassuring hand on her arm, Tyr turned to Dylan and Rommie. Meeting the sternly shocked gaze of his Captain, Tyr smiled faintly, then gestured with his head to the now-unlocked door. Dylan's eyes widened in understanding, and for a moment apology touched his expression - an apology, Tyr thought sardonically, that he certainly did not deserve. His kissing Beka had not just been part of the plan. Kissing Beka had been irresistible.
Dylan, wincing a little, got to his feet, and he and Rommie moved up near the door. Almost as soon as Tyr swung it wide, dashing down the hall in a direction opposite where the Ogami had taken Hallow, alarms began to sound. Tyr watched in a rage as a gate before him slid closed; with an adrenalin- driven wrench he stopped it in its tracks, straining to keep it open as Beka, Dylan and Rommie slithered through.
Tyr quickly followed, and Beka, leading the wall, called back to him as she hit another corridor. "Direction?"
"Go right!" he shouted, pelting along the hard floor. Beka led the others right, and all four fetched up hard against another gate that had already closed. Tyr shouldered his way to the front, Beka's lockpicks still in hand, and frantically began to work on the lock as running footsteps sounded ever louder behind them.
The barking commands of the Ogami's native language sounded just behind them, and Tyr aborted his attempt, whirling instead to face the fighters running toward them. With a quick glance at Dylan, he moved to one side of the broad corridor as Dylan took the other. Rommie and Beka stood firm in the middle, ready to fight.
Before Tyr could begin the attack, however, a strange hissing noise began above them, and clear walls dropped down all around them.
"Gas!" gasped Beka, beginning to cough. Even with his enhanced Nietzschean physiognomy, Tyr could only resist its effects long enough to break her fall as she collapsed. Agony took him as the chemicals tore through his lungs, then all went black.
As the Andromeda emerged, finally, into normal space in the system where they'd left Tyr and Beka, Harper and Trance's disquiet prevented even a congratulatory murmur. Trance's certainty that danger threatened the others imminently drove them; as soon as Andromeda's scans registered the several hundred Ogami fighters still patrolling in the system, Harper's supercharged reflexes were ready.
With a quick 180, the Andromeda flipped behind a nearby moon, switched directions, then, in a move worthy of a Valentine, skipped the moon's weak atmosphere to dodge behind the planet where Dylan had been retrieving his CO and resident Niet. To Harper's jubilation, no fighters broke off to follow.
"Status?" Harper barked, as he fired reverse thrusters to halt Andromeda's forward motion.
"Nearly 1000 Ogami fighters of all shapes and sizes are orbiting the large planet, Harper. And Tyr, Beka, and Dylan are all on it. My avatar informs me that they are imprisoned by the Ogami, Dylan and Tyr have been sentenced to death, and they have all just been gassed while attempting an escape. Things," she concluded from the forward viewscreen, "do not look great."
"Great!" Harper echoed with immense sarcasm. "So, you're telling me that we have to rescue them from an Ogami planet - most likely a home world, right?" He paused for her confirming nod. "And evade nearly 1000 ships to do it? And how do you suggest we do that?"
"Ambush," answered Trance, firmly.
"What?" Harper demanded, full of indignation.
"We ambush an Ogami fighter, take it over, and fly to the planet. And Harper, we need to do it right now."
"Oh, great," Harper grumbled, nevertheless readying the controls. "Galil?"
Galil, standing quietly in the corner of the Com Deck holding her son, said, "Yes?"
"I'm leaving you the con."
"Wh - what? Are you crazy, Harper? I can't command this ship!"
"Listen, Galil. If something happens to us, the Andromeda needs an organic to fly her out of here, otherwise she'll be lost in the Slipstream for months. I promised Rommie I wouldn't let that happen to her."
"But - but Harper - Trance? I'm not ready to fly the Andromeda. I'm only a guest here!"
"I know, Galil," Trance murmured, "but we need you to stay here and do this, OK? We both need to get to that planet!"
Trance pinned Galil with her intent, earnest gaze, and after a moment, the other woman gave in with a sigh. "OK, OK. I'll - err - hold down the fort. But I want you guys to promise me you'll come back!"
"We promise," said Harper, only slightly sarcastic. "OK, Trance, pick me out a fighter and let's deploy the drones."
In remarkably short order, Trance had identified and cleverly enticed an Ogami fighter within the reach of their drones. Jamming their communications, Harper maneuvered the bucky cables to tow the resisting figher into the Andromeda, taking care to ensure that the fighter could not blast its way right back out by disabling the ship's laser cannons.
Once he'd secured the fighter on deck, Harper asked Andromeda to flood the deck with a knockout gas that she assured him would eliminate the Ogami for hours. With three Maria bots, Harper forced open the Ogami hatch and rendered the Sisterhood members inside quickly unconscious. As the Maria bots carried two captives to the ship's rarely-used brig, Andromeda vented the deck.
Harper and Trance bounded aboard the fighter, Trance continuing to urge Harper to haste until he exclaimed irritably, "I got it, I got it, Trance! I'm goin' as fast as I can here!"
Harper plugged himself into the Ogami ship's interface, requested the hangar doors be reopened, and blasted into space with very little other preparation, trusting in his quick wits to fly and land the fighter without arousing suspicion. As the multitude of other ships swam into view around him, he hoped he could do it.
Rommie sat in a corner, legs straight out in front of her, contemplating her torn "skin." When the gas had felled Dylan and the others, she had feigned being overcome, too, so that she could try to resist the Ogami. But too many had swarmed around the bodies of her crew; although she launched herself with deadly efficiency at the nearest ones, she was overcome by weapons fire and hand to hand combat after several minutes of hard fighting.
Now, she sat in the cell with her crewmates, her hand absently resting on Dylan's outflung wrist to feel his reassuringly steady pulse. She'd been in contact with her AI, and knew the Andromeda had finally reached the system, but she worried about the rescue effort from Harper and Trance. She adored Harper, really she did, but he was probably not her first choice for rescues.
Of course, her first, second, and third choices lay crumpled unclad beside her, still breathing raspily from the effects of the neurogas.
Rommie's brows creased as she heard footsteps coming again toward their cell. Four Ogami tromped up to the cell door, dragging a crumpled figure between them. It looked as though the other Nietzschean had survived his first combat challenge, though he did not look healthy. With little care, the Ogami hauled the massive man into the cell, and dumped him onto the floor in front of her.
Next the captors focused on Tyr for a moment, bringing a bigger frown to Rommie's brow. They bent over the Nietzschean's prone form, prodding his skin and shaking him roughly. When Tyr showed no sign of life, one Ogami swiftly kicked him in the side, evidently more to test his unconsciousness than to do real harm. Despite the blow, Tyr remained quiescent, and after some muttered conversation, the Ogami departed.
Tyr, Dylan and especially Beka looked different than before, as the Ogami had stripped each of them down to underclothes before throwing them back into the cell. Rommie, rendered helpless by a powerful electrical discharge from an Ogami weapon, had been unable to help her friends; the Ogami had removed clothes, the lockpicks and anything else that her crew might have used to escape again.
Rommie continued her helpless vigil as her crew slept on, noting with concern the advent of Beka's shivers, but unable to help her.
"Whoo-hoo!" Trance smiled a little as Harper gave vent to his relief. They'd done it! They'd evaded suspicion and landed on the planet's surface only a few thousand meters from where their crew's tracking bots pulsed on their display. Moving quickly, Trance grabbed an array of weapons, tossing a blaster and forcelance to Harper, and led the way out of the small craft. Fitting all of them into the ship for a return trip would be challenging, Trance noted with a fleeting frown, but she certainly hoped they got to face that challenge by freeing her friends.
Moving stealthily out of the ship, Trance and Harper surveyed the surrounding brush. Spiky, brown and pungent, it wasn't too pleasant but nevertheless provided adequate covering. While Harper had quickly responded to the planetary docking system's hail, he worried that he hadn't had the codes right. And so, he valued the cover.
The hot, dusty breeze ruffled his hair, but the golden locks bouncing just in front of him hung too heavily to be swayed by the errant wind. Harper wasn't sure if she was following her scanner or her particular locator talents, but either way, he was content to watch Trance's back as she forged her way through the undergrowth.
As the brush got lighter, Harper put a gentle hand on Trance's arm. "Hold on a sec," he said in response to her inquiring look. Using his sub-vocal communicator, Harper risked a brief question. "Rommie, you there?"
In the cell where she still sat immobilized, Rommie's eyes snapped open. "Harper, where are you?"
"Maybe 300 meters from your building, I think."
"Well, take cover and wait. Everyone's unconscious and I don't think we could move them. Harper - I can't move."
"What? Rommie, what'd they do to you?"
The indignation and concern in his voice warmed her, and her "Shot me with some kind of electrical discharge" rang with that warmth.
"Hell." Harper was silent for a moment, brow knit, as Trance stood patiently waiting beside him. "Can you reroute your auxiliary relays through the secondary nerve array? Will that help things?"
"I am not sure, but I will try it. Harper - shhh. Someone's coming!"
In the brush outside, Harper tongued off his implant and drew Trance into a crouch. "We need to hang out here for a bit, Trance. Everyone's out."
"Out?"
"They're all unconscious and even Rommie can't move."
"Oh, dear," Trance moaned, brow knit. "We've got to get them out of there."
"I know, Trance. But we can't carry them all."
Frowning fiercely, Trance subsided, clearly evaluating alternatives as Harper waited to hear back from Rommie.
* * *