See Prologue for Ratings and Disclaimer.
More Belizean greetings! I was back in town just long enough to check into my hotel, wash all the Vaca Plateau dirt (and believe me, it's A LOT), and then I'm right here getting the next part ready. I didn't even check the e-mail from my mother yet. See? You guys are my priority! Lol. Anyways, still sick with a cold, which makes the normally killer trek up to site every morning completely draining, but hey, I manage (my clothes can attest to that!). But I'm off to the coast for the rest of the weekend, hopefully some ocean air will clear it up (I hope...)
Once again, I can't say how much I appreciate all these great reviews. You guys are awesome. I'm glad I'm getting those characterizations down right, was worried about it. Hope you continue to enjoy the story! There's a lot more to go, I promise. Any and all mistakes are mine alone.
PART SEVEN - My Soul for Convenience
"Amayaúna," Dylan muttered. The senior crew, minus Lieutenant Commander Rhade of course, were in his office, going over what they knew so far.
"Amayaúna," Andromeda repeated. "A small planet in the Maura system. In the days of the Old Commonwealth, it was mainly an agricultural world. In the three-hundred years since the fall, it changed hands countless times among the Nietzschean prides."
"Right." Everyone's attention turned to Captain Hunt. "They managed to drive the Mako pride off just before joining the New Commonwealth."
"Correct," Rommie affirmed. "However, since the civil wa…dispute," she amended, catching her captain's pointed look, "Amayaúna has suffered numerous raids by several races in a short period of time, including the Nietzscheans."
"Come to take back their prize," Beka muttered, not trying to be heard.
"So what?" Harper asked, incredulous. "They blame Rhade? Okay, so the guy's annoying, and a Nietzschean…but come on!"
"He was a convenience," Trance said quietly, staring off to the side, away from the rest.
"Because he's a Nietzschean?" the engineer asked, skeptical.
"That," Trance replied, moving closer to her crewmates, "And the fact that he's a Rhade. He was at the very center of the conflict that is now tearing the New Commonwealth apart."
Everyone's attention was drawn by the sound of a fist slamming against the desk. Dylan pushed away from it in frustration and paced a short distance before turning back to them.
"You know, I really wish people would stop blaming him. He did nothing wrong!"
"You know that, we know that," Trance insisted, "And deep down, they knew that. But the desperate rarely look further than their own fears. It's become common knowledge that Gaheris Rhade played a part in the Nietzschean uprising three-hundred years ago." Had she not been able to mask her feelings as well as she could, they would have heard the regret in her voice. "The same uprising that cost Amayaúna its independence. Even if he wasn't responsible, the very fact that another Rhade was somehow linked to the separation of the New Commonwealth is enough to condemn Telemachus. The wrong conclusions jumped to by the wrong people."
As good as her masking abilities were, the enigma could not hide her oddly subdued tone as she added, "It doesn't help that he wears that same face, either."
"'Wrong conclusions…'" Dylan sighed. "And now we can't even try to lead them back to the right one."
"So what?" Beka demanded, finally speaking up. "They got as good as they deserved." Without waiting for a reaction, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.
There was a long silence. Finally, Harper looked around and gestured, "Uh, should we…."
"No," the captain replied in exasperation. "Let her go."
Another silence blanketed the room, and once again the spiky-haired engineer broke the tension, asking sheepishly, "What now?"
"Now," Dylan walked to his chair and sat down, "We continue. Andromeda, were you able to figure out how the crew of the Majalla's Heart got their hands on my officer?"
"From what I've been able to deduce so far," the AI began, "They bought him from a Makaei bounty hunter several days after he first went missing."
"You mean they actually went to all that trouble just to beat a Nietzschean traitor senseless?"
"Harper…" came Dylan's low warning.
"Oh, come on," he defended himself, hands up, flashing an apologetic look to indicate his words had been for emphasis only. "I was only saying…you know what I mean."
"Not necessarily," Rommie responded, drawing back their attention. Harper was about to protest, but refrained when he realized she was addressing his initial comment. "As you are aware Captain," she directed her comment to Dylan, "The Makaei don't take kindly to uninvited strangers. It's quite possible Commander Rhade was randomly picked up and Captain Colis just got luck--" she paused at the captain's warning, "…Just happened to come across him. Their logs indicate they were picking up supplies in a nearby system around the time he was taken."
Hunt's voice was grim. "At this point we don't know, and I don't think it really matters anymore. What matters is that those…men…are dead, and my officer is alive."
There was an uncomfortable pause. Then, "And I think we all have a pretty good idea why."
Looks of distaste were directed at Harper, but when they noted the complete lack of humour and the disturbed anxiety coming from the man, they let it go.
They didn't need any details from random diagnostics and analyses to tell them anything, it would only serve to unnervingly confirm what they already knew.
-o-0-o-
Blood stained his bone blades, and for the first time in an eternity, it wasn't his.
Rhade stepped over the bodies of the three guards, not recognizing the pain that attacked his senses, his body unused to its own weight, of moving solely on its own. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as he moved from the metal cage that had been his home for many weeks. Instincts led him from one crewmember to another as exits were subconsciously sought, new injuries acquired. But he survived.
It was no doubt the single-mindedness of his thoughts, ever-focused on that cursed litany, was what kept him as the victor. With no action premeditated, reaction was all he had; and he reacted faster and with greater efficiency when he wasn't hampered by thought or doubt.
He turned a corner and heard a shout from further ahead. His wild eyes focussed and found a lone body clumsily reaching for a weapon he likely wasn't trained to use. Rhade could smell the scent of fear emanating from the human.
The Nietzschean started toward the figure, as briskly as his mangled body would allow, but certainly in no hurry. It sounded like a disembodied voice, but it was his own, gruff and hoarse - not that he could even acknowledge it - as he chanted, low, "From the depths, I challenge thee…."
The human finally managed to release his small weapon and raise it to his former prisoner. He tried to command, to threaten, but only managed to stutter.
"Up and up, through the sea," was all the scared man was met with.
Shots were fired, but they were poorly aimed. The feral Nietzschean only needed to shift his shoulders from one side to the other, never ceasing his advance on his prey. "From the blanket, of despair…."
Either the weapon jammed, or it has been low on shots to begin with, but as Rhade neared him, the human gave up and tossed it hard and fast at his head, only to watch in terrified amazement as it was plucked from the air. As soon as he'd wrapped his hand around it, Rhade dropped his arm and threw it behind him, all in one fluid movement.
The horrified human struck out with his arm, only to have it easily blocked and incapacitated; broken chains clinked together as the Nietzschean grabbed a hold of his wrist with one hand and delivered a glancing blow to the chest with the other. It was another mistake these people had overlooked - the length of the chain holding his two wrists allowed for considerable movement.
"For nought a maiden…" he kept his grip on the wrist as the other reared back, across his own torso, as if to backhand the man, "Ever fair…." He struck out, but it was his bone blades that found their mark. The man's cry abruptly died.
"Than death…" he let the man's dying body slump to the ground, his brain not fully registering what had happened, only the fact that mattered: he had survived the encounter.
Rhade looked down briefly at his victim, his former captor, before turning and resuming his journey. "Just 'round the corner."
As he walked the mantra started up again, just as he heard running footsteps approaching from the left. "From the depths…."
To Be Continued...
And now, to overdose on much-missed fic!
Oh, and one last note...a couple weeks in the jungle has sparked my music vid muse...upon returning, my next project is a Gaheris video. Thought I'd mention it in case anyone was intereted.