TITLE: A Past to Outdo

CHAPTER FIFTEEN A Past to Undo

"You can't change the past, but there are a lot of people out there that will die trying."

Jason Stargent, Katel Battalion

CY 3458

"You're crazy!" Harper protested.

"Well, yeah," Lane replied obviously. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're going to do it. I didn't go to all the trouble of getting you here for nothing. My ship is already prepped for launch."

"They'll find me, Dylan and the others. They'll come after me!"

"I don't doubt it. But it's not like they can do anything to stop this happening. You're the criminal here, and they know it, which makes them aiding and abetting. But if you confess, you can clear your conscience and save their asses."

Harper thought about the prospect of confessing. What Lane was saying made sense, but this coming from the woman who created the worst side of his personality, the woman who tried to ruin his life and had morals more questionable than a Dragon's. How could Harper trust anything she said?

Lane was getting impatient. She suddenly grabbed him by the throat and held the gun to his neck. Rage fired in her eyes, which pierced into his skull. "I don't need you to agree to do this, because you are doing this. If you don't co-operate, I will kill you. Then I'll kill your friends, just for the hell of it. Of course, then I won't be able to carry out my plan, but damn it'll feel so good."

Lane let that thought dwell in Harper's mind for a few moments. She then released her grip and pushed him back.

"So if you don't want me to go on a killing spree, you're gonna get up, walk to my ship and behave like a good little puppy all the way to Calliope."

"Her name's Deven," Trell told Beka. He had given up the information quite quickly after Beka reminded him that she had a fair amount of information about his illegal activities, and had no qualms about revealing it to the proper authorities. "She's a mercenary for hire, high-price."

"And?" Beka prompted.

"She was in town a few days ago, probably meeting with her employer."

Beka stepped forward menacingly. "Probably?"

Trell held his hands up defensively. "Alright, alright, definitely meeting with her employer! And before you ask, I don't know who it is, so don't go doing anything I might regret. If Deven's back she's probably delivered your guy and is out celebrating a big fat pay check."

"And where exactly might she be doing that?" Beka asked.

"Try the VIP rooms at The Icarus, but they're not gonna like the intrusion."

"Let me worry about that," Beka replied, and went to leave, having gathered all the information she needed. "Good to see you again buddy. Oh, and, uh...sorry about the mess."

Trell nodded, then when Beka was gone, furrowed his brow in confusion. "What mess?"

Harper followed Lane through the crowds. Plenty of opportunities arose to duck away, slip into the hordes and escape, but he didn't take them. He had no choice. Lane was crazy, and he had no doubts she would carry out her threats, and thoroughly enjoy doing so. Maybe Beka and the others would come to his rescue, and Lane would go back to prison without any fuss. And maybe a piano would fall on her head. Harper scanned the sky and decided that particular possibility was doubtful.

Beka arrived at The Icarus and snuck in through the back. Who'd have thought the old 'throw something over there and let the guards investigate the noise' ploy would still work? The VIP room was easy enough to find, she just followed the trail of people selling high-class drugs. How could she let Harper end up in a place like this, all alone? No time for the blame game, Valentine, we got some ass to kick. she told herself sharply. Beka asked a few quiet questions as to where Deven could be found. She had to admit, some people were most helpful when they were high. She found the room she was looking for, and sure enough, heard Deven inside. But she wasn't alone. Damn it. Looking around for some inspiration, Beka smiled as a plan took shape.

"I honestly thought I was gonna rip my own ears off so I wouldn't have to listen all their shit!" Deven laughed. Makar and the others were well on their way to getting satisfactorily wasted.

"I still think you should have worn the white coat, just to make you look the part," Owen mentioned, before someone came crashing through the door. A man holding a gun, and looking a little dazed.

After a bizarre moment of shock from both sides, the man looked at the room full of wouldn't-want-to-meet-them-in-a-light-alley-let-alone-a-dark-one-type people. His eyes bulged in his head and he ran back out the door. Makar, Owen and the others looked at each other, gave a gleeful battle-cry and chased after him, guns in hand. Deven laughed as they filed out. She was about to join them, when someone else came through the door.

She immediately looked flustered, and why shouldn't she? "Miss Valentine...what are you doing here?" she spluttered.

Beka couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did she really expect her act to work this time? She thought she may as well humour her ."I could ask you the same thing Dr Ellis. Where's Harper?"

Deven searched desperately for her words. "Well...we, uh, dropped him off at the facility and came here to pick up another client."

Beka smiled falsely. "Sure ya did." She then made her sidearm visible by pushing her coat aside it. "I wanna know who, I wanna know where, and I wanna know now."

Deven rolled her eyes and looked away. Then suddenly she swung her arm up and the glass she was holding smashed against Beka's face. Beka cried out and held her hand to her cheek. A few cuts, nothing serious. She shook it off in time to shoot Deven in the thigh as she tried to escape. She writhed on the floor in pain.

As Beka wiped the blood from her cheek, she cursed herself. She should have expected a sucker-punch from a low-life mercenary. "This will go a lot faster if you just tell me what I want to know."

Deven gripped the carpet to keep from registering the pain in her leg. "And what might that be?" she grimaced.

"Who you work for, and where they've got Harper," Beka repeated.

"What do you want that pathetic worm for? What, do you have a thing for junkies?" Deven scoffed.

Beka smiled politely. "If you say another word that doesn't answer my question, I will cut out your tongue and make you write down the information I want."

Deven stopped laughing. "I'd like to see you try," she shouted, before lunging at her enemy. Beka was prepared this time though. A Valentine doesn't get fooled twice. She thrust a mid-kick to her opponent's abdomen. Deven doubled over, and Beka took advantage of this by kneeing her hard in the face. She was sent crashing to floor, blood pouring from her nose, and joining the spreading puddle from her gunshot wound on the carpet.

Beka put her booted foot on Deven's neck before she could get up again, and put half her weight on it. She didn't intend to kill her, though revenge was a sweet thought. Deven scrambled as she choked, but Beka didn't sway.

"Tell me where Harper is, and I won't snap your neck in two, right here, right now."

Deven was much like Beka in her stubbornness. She didn't want to be manipulated, but would she rather die than give up information? Beka watched the woman struggle, both physically and in her own mind. She was turning a bright shade of red, it wouldn't last much longer. She managed to steal a gasp, and used it to reply. "Calliope," she spat.

Beka let her go. "Calliope? Why the hell...?" Then she remembered. When Harper had revealed his secret to her - the murder he committed...the victim was a prince from Calliope. It didn't take genius to figure it out. Going back to Calliope would bring no good to anyone. Except Lane Farrow.

End of chapter fifteen

Next chapter: Into the Dark