TITLE: A Past to Outdo

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Clarity

"Solutions can be found in the most unexpected places - often places never considered worth searching."

Lord Siquies Jeatin

CY 9348

"I'm not telling you shit," Deven hissed. She was lying on a bed in a secure medically equipped holding cell. It seemed the lawyer Dylan and Tyr ran into was right - Beka had done a fair share of damage. Deven had been shot, and beaten. Her neck was bruised, her nose was broken and there were bandages covering her abdomen. She was royally pissed too.

"You're going down for murder. How many, god only knows, but you're going down either way. So the only way you can soften your landing is to co-operate," Dylan told her.

"Well, seeing as no-one can prove a damn thing, I don't need to co-operate, now, do I?" Deven replied.

Tyr was getting impatient (more so). "You can buy your way out of any charges against you, and stay out of prison. But your reputation will not be so easily fixed," he said.

Deven studied him. "What are you getting at?"

"Suppose this little fiasco got out? You were found, beaten and gave up information about your employer. Who's going to hire you after that?"

Deven didn't like being threatened, but knew the Nietzschean was right. "And you'll keep it quiet if I give you the same information I gave Valentine?" she asked skeptically.

"That's right," Dylan agreed.

"Fine," Deven conceded. She never really liked Lane that much anyway. "My employer's name was Lane Farrow. They're on their way to Calliope."

"Thank-you for your co-operation," Dylan said, ignoring her question. "Now, Tyr, let's go and tell every reporter we can find about this poor excuse for a mercenary," Dylan said. He didn't intend to waste his time with anything like that, but it wouldn't hurt to let Deven to squirm for a while. They left her screaming abuse at them, and as soon as the door closed behind them, they turned to one another.

"Isn't Lane Farrow supposed to be dead?" Tyr inquired.

"Apparently not," Dylan replied. Damn it, if that woman was as evil as he'd heard...

"What significance is Calliope?" Tyr wondered aloud.

Dylan wasn't sure. The name rang a bell, but he couldn't quite remember when or where he had heard it. "Andromeda," he called, opening a com-link. "Lane Farrow has Harper, and they're on their way to Calliope."

There was nothing but silence, though the com-link was definitely open.

"Rommie?"

"I'm here, Dylan," Rommie replied eventually. Lane Farrow and Calliope were not the answers she expected, or wanted, to hear.

"Calliope - do you recognise that name?" Dylan asked as he and Tyr made their way back to the slip fighter.

"It's the planet Lane was imprisoned on for the murder of Prince Eltan," Rommie replied.

Dylan stopped in his tracks. "Prince Eltan...you mean the guy Harper..."

"Yes, Dylan. That's exactly what I mean."

"We have to find Harper, and fast."

Harper had stopped looking for the ship's location. He hadn't moved an inch since Lane left his cell once again. His mind had shut down while it considered the possibility that maybe Lane was right.

The door to his cell opened and a voice came over the com. "Come to the cockpit," Lane ordered.

Harper didn't even think about trying to escape. He just got up and did as he was told, his mind still buried in thought. Lane was sitting in the pilot's chair when he got there. A blue-green planet filled the viewscreeen. Calliope.

"This is it," Lane said. "It's time to make your decision. You can go willingly and make this easy on both of us, or I can put a gun to head and force you down there, causing a big scene in which we'd probably both get killed. What's it gonna be?"

Beka sat in the Maru waiting for her answer. She was still moving towards Calliope, but she needed Harper's location before she could do anything else. Time was running out.

Lane removed the band from Harper's arm with a key she kept in her pocket. It hurt like hell. The puncture wounds it had left blueish marks around the skin. "It's probably infected," Lane said without any empathy. "Wait there." She left the room.

Harper absorbed the silence, until another voice broke it. "Harper? Harper, can you talk?"

"Yeah Beka, I'm here," Harper replied.

"What's your position?"

"We're in orbit around Calliope."

"Shit. Alright, I can be there in twenty, you have to just stall or something..." Beka started, but Harper interrupted.

"No. Beka, I..."

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"I'm gonna do it."

"Do what?" Beka asked. Something in Harper's voice disturbed her, an unusual calmness that she had never heard before. And she soon found the reason behind it.

"I'm gonna confess," Harper said.

Beka was in a state of shock, and couldn't speak. "Are you crazy!" she finally exclaimed. "Whatever Lane's threatening you with, it doesn't matter, she's the evil one here, Harper, not you. I'm going to get you out of there."

"I can't talk, Lane's coming back," he replied, and shut down the com-link.

Beka had never been so scared in her life. She was about to lose one of her best friends, and by the sounds of it, it was by his own will.

End of chapter eighteen

Next chapter: Overdue