NOVA

Chapter 10: New England

---

September 27th, 1177 NC, 11:32 a.m. Nova’s head was pounding. He attempted to open his eyes, but it only worsened the pain. He could hear nothing around him, only the sound of his ragged breathing. Where was he? How long had he been unconscious?

He then realized that his arms and legs were bound. He tried to move his wrists and ankles, but they were tightly secured. He tried opening his eyes once more, and willed the pain away so that he could look around. He was securely bound to a small metal chair in the middle of an otherwise empty room. A lone, faint light hung from the ceiling above. From what Nova could tell, the walls were constructed from the same cold steel as the rest of modern civilization. There were no windows.

He could be anywhere.

He tried to remember what had happened. He and Iris returned from the equipment run from Lesten and went into the bar… he spoke to Jay… he went outside for some air… what had happened after that?

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he remembered.

His head shot up like the snap of a whip as the recollection hit him fiercely. The Feds! The Feds had found him on Merrol! He winced and sat back as he remembered the pain of the dart in his neck, and tried to see through the fog that had clouded his vision. He remembered seeing the uniformed officers standing over him. And he remembered the sinister chuckle…

He sat bolt upright. The chuckle. The woman’s laugh. One of the Fed officers standing over him had been a woman. Why was that so important? Why was Nova’s gut trying to tell him something about that woman? Now that he thought about it, she had looked familiar, but he couldn’t begin to understand why.

He closed his eyes again, trying to think. First he scolded himself for allowing himself to be taken so easily. He’d been distracted. He’d seen the blue uniform of a Fed and he’d frozen. He cursed aloud, but very quietly. He knew better than that. He learned long ago not to let his guard down.

Then he thought about the Midnight Pearl. Where was it now? Did the Feds take it? He cursed again. If they had, they’d know all about the Rebels in the Koria system by now just by analyzing the logs or the IFF. He sighed. Only a month in service, and he’d been responsible for the undoing of the Rebellion.

He shook his head again, more violently this time. There was no sense jumping to conclusions. His next priority was finding a way out of his predicament, although it didn’t seem as if there were many options. He looked around again, and this time he saw a door in the wall behind him. It was barely visible, much like the galley door aboard the Pearl, but it was there.

He glanced around again. From the looks of it, that door was his only way out. He’d have to make use of it when he got the chance. He wiggled his wrists around inside his bindings. They were made of a tough, durable metal, which meant he had no chance of getting out of them without the key.

All right, so he’d have to find another way.

Before he could think of another contingency plan, however, he heard footsteps on the other side of the steel door behind him. He thought of faking unconsciousness, but as he glanced around, he saw a small red light blinking in the corner on the ceiling. Motion detectors, he thought. Pretending to be asleep would serve little purpose now. It figured they'd be watching his movements.

He listened to the hiss of the door sliding open, and then the footsteps continued into the bleak room. Nova could tell before he saw them that there were two Fed patrol officers and one more person, whose boots made the characteristic clicking sound of high heels - the woman. The first two walked around in front of him, one of whom pulled his head back forcibly while the other covered his eyes with a blindfold.

"Ow!" Nova cried involuntarily as he felt a clump of his hair ripped from his skull.

"You think that hurts?" came the cool, collected voice of the woman. "You have no idea what we have in store for you."

Nova gritted his teeth to hold back the flurry of insults he would otherwise have hurled at her. He knew it wouldn't do much good. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, "what are you charging me with?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, I'd think a boy as smart as you seem to be would already know the answer to that. In fact, I can just see your mind working with a fair number of possible answers, trying to figure out which one is right."

Nova heard her footsteps walking around his chair until they stopped just in front of him. "I know who you are, Nova Rogue. You're one of the most infamous juvenile prostitutes in this sector. If it weren't for the President's incompetence, I'd be surprised you and your ring of whores didn't come to our attention sooner. We had to pull quite a few strings to find you, Nova... and slit a few throats, I might add. And your escape from the Nelson, although futile, certainly was daring."

Nova laughed. "Futile? You thought I was dead. Why else would it have taken so long to find me?"

"Oh, we found you some time ago, passing through the Aldebaran system. A stroke of luck, I'll admit, but we've been aware of your whereabouts for the last month. And now that we have you, it's time for you to give us what we really want."

Nova was slightly taken aback at that. She couldn't be talking about the Rebels; if she were looking for them, she'd have gone through the ship's logs and she'd know already where to find them. She was after something else. "And what's that?"

She chuckled. "Oh, come now, Nova. Do I really need to explain every detail to you? There were two prisoners aboard the Nelson, both of whom escaped from the explosion. One of them was a telepath. Now that we have you safely in custody, you're going to tell us where he is."

Nova fought hard to maintain his composure. Deric. They were looking for Deric. And that could only mean...

"You don't work for the Federation, do you?" he said.

The woman was silent for a moment. "In a manner of speaking."

Nova laughed. "I know who you work for: the Bureau of Internal Investigation. That's it, isn't it? You're after Deric's telepathic abilities."

"As far as you're concerned," she said icily, "the both of you are dangerous juvenile criminals who are to be brought to justice."

"Bullshit," spat Nova. "I know about you. I know how you use telepaths for your own purposes. Want to make Deric just another slave, is that it?"

The next thing he felt was intense pain as a gloved hand struck the side of his face. He cried out, tasting blood.

The woman paused a moment, letting the pain and the harsh reality sink in before continuing. "You should watch your tongue, Nova. You'll need it to tell me what I want to know. And trust me, you will, one way or another." She walked around the chair again. "You know, you can make it easier on yourself. Tell me right now where your telepathic friend is, and I may spare you the indignity of torture and throw you straight into the brig without further questioning."

Nova was trembling with anger. "I don't know where he is," he lied, "and even if I did, you'd be the last person I'd tell."

She sighed. "You know, I wonder why people always say that. They could make it all so much less painful if they were to co-operate." He heard her footsteps proceeding to the door as she spoke. "I'll be back in a few hours, Nova. Perhaps by then you'll be a little more willing to give me the information I want."

He heard the door slide shut. Then one of the remaining officers pulled the blindfold roughly from his head, and he blinked, the lingering pain of the tightly tied cloth making him wince. Then the door slid open again, and both guards left, leaving Nova wondering what was going on. He glanced around, making sure he wasn't mistaken, that there were no longer any guards in the room with him.

Then he looked around again. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, the solitary light in the room had just gotten brighter. He felt sweat begin to bead on his forehead, and realized that the temperature had gone up as well. He looked at the light dangling above him, and found he had to squint at it. Every second that passed, the light slowly grew brighter and brighter, and with it the room grew hotter and hotter. And with a feeling of deep dread, Nova realized what kind of chamber this was.

It wasn't long before he felt the increasing heat of his bindings and the metal chair upon which he was sitting. The light was so bright now that he couldn't look at it. He felt the heat of the floor through his shoes, and gritted his teeth as the shackles bound to his wrists and ankles began to burn. He could feel the hot light on his exposed arms, face and neck. He bent his head, hoping that his hair would protect him somewhat from the harsh light, but it was to no avail; the light only beamed back at him from the shiny steel of the floor.

He was sweating profusely now, air escaping his lungs in short, raspy breaths as he felt his throat dry. And still the room grew hotter. His bindings were burning so fiercely now that he was hard pressed not to scream in agony. He arched away from the hot chair as much as possible, but it had little effect as the heat rose from its surface, attacking the backs of his legs and the sweaty skin beneath his shirt. Each time he turned to look at his exposed arms, squinting through the fierce light, they had grown redder and redder.

He began to scream.

Suddenly the harsh light dimmed. He began to relax as he felt the temperature become bearable once again, and the metal on his ankles and wrists began to cool. He slumped back, dizzy from the ordeal, sweat escaping from every pore.

He looked himself over. Every exposed part of his body was a deep red. He could feel blisters on his wrists and ankles, and on his legs and arms where they had been touching the chair. His feet felt as if they, too, had blistered through the bottoms of his shoes. Tears mingled with the sweat on his face.

After a few minutes, the door slid open once more, and the two guards walked back into the room. One of them stood aloof, his arms crossed. The other stared down at Nova's weak, burnt form. "Well, boy?" he said. "Feel talkative yet?"

Shuddering, Nova looked up at him. "K-kiss my ass," he said through bared teeth.

"Have it your way." He signaled to the other officer, who drew a large knife from his belt. Before Nova could register what was going on, the guard had him by the shirt collar. He roughly stuck the knife into the collar and sliced the fabric all the way down to the bottom. He made similar cuts between his neck and the ends of his sleeves. Nova felt small spots where he'd been lightly cut, felt blood trickling down them, but he wasn't paying attention. He kept his composure, but internally felt terrified as the guard removed the shreds of shirt, and proceeded to cut away his shorts and his underwear as well, discarding the remaining shreds of cloth.

Smirking, the two guards walked back to the door, which slid open obligingly, and away from Nova's naked, vulnerable form. He glared at them through the lingering tears in his eyes as they left, dreading the long, brutal hours to come.

The light grew brighter once again, and his screams fell on deaf ears.

---

September 27th, 1177 NC, 1:44 p.m. The headquarters of the Bureau of Internal Investigation was hardly the most lavish of places on the small planet of New England, at the heart of the Wolf 359 system. Everything about it was very utilitarian and, the blonde woman secretly thought, quite tasteless. She walked down the hallway that led to her office, her stride carrying an air of frustration with it.

It had been two hours since Nova's torture had begun, with no results to speak of beyond frequent insults and perhaps one or two third-degree burns. She hadn't yet returned to the chamber, but according to what she had gathered from her half-hourly updates on the situation, there was very little progress being made. Far too little. She had been in charge of the Bureau for several years, and not once had she encountered anyone with the resolve that this boy seemed to have. Either he knew nothing, or he knew more than she suspected he did, or he simply had nothing to lose.

She irritably brushed a few stray locks of her hair away from her face, looking forward to a steaming cup of coffee in her office.

The door slid open for her as she approached, and she made a beeline for the coffee synth, activating it and watching with tamed delight as the cup filled, drenching her nostrils with the sweet aroma. When it finished filling, she carefully lifted the mug, savouring the aroma as she walked across to her desk. She placed the cup down, sitting in her chair and leaning back, grateful for the first opportunity she'd had all day to sit down and relax, and then brought the mug of coffee to her lips to take a sip.

And then the door chimed.

She cursed out loud, putting the cup down and running a hand through her hair. "Come in," she said, her voice harsher than she had intended.

The door slid open, and one of her operatives walked through it, stroking his beard. "Commander Krane. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."

She sighed. "Forget it, Donovan. Are we making progress across the Auroran border?"

Donovan pursed his lips. "Somewhat. The Moash House has agreed to negotiate with us, although their demands aren't quite what we had in mind."

"What does that mean?"

He hesitated. "They have agreed to help us dominate the other four Houses and pledge their fleets to our cause following our success, but in return they are demanding sole authority over all of Auroran space, and a much more limited Bureau and Federation presence within it than we had originally hoped."

"Damn." Krane tapped her fingers on the desk, taking a sip from her coffee but feeling less satisfied than she otherwise would have. "Keep negotiations open, but keep them quiet. I don't want that busybody President of ours getting wind of this."

"Yes, ma'am."

She took another sip, calming herself down. "Right. How about the Rebels?"

Donovan shook his head. "Nothing. Our best lead so far came from one of our agents in the Vega system, but he was killed before he could report his findings."

"Get another one out there. If there's Rebel activity on Las Vegas, I want to know about it." She clasped her hands. "Which brings us to...?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I have the latest report on the prisoner, Commander."

Krane rolled her eyes. "Well, don't keep me in such suspense, Donovan. I'm just riveted to hear about our progress."

"None yet, ma'am. The kid's a steel trap."

"No," she replied, "he's a kid in a steel trap. Why the hell haven't we cracked him yet?"

"We did get something out of him," he said, and she perked up. "We don't think it's genuine, though. He made a brief reference to the telepath being dead. We've stopped the interrogation for now, and we await your orders."

She thought for a minute. "Well, of course the kid isn't dead. But maybe he's starting to break." She drained her mug of coffee and stood. "I'll go and talk to him myself. Maybe now he'll be a little more co-operative."

"Yes, ma'am."

Both he and Commander Krane left the office. The door slid shut behind them.

---

September 27th, 1177 NC, 2:00 p.m. Nova gasped for air in the now-dim chamber. He had blisters across his body. His skin was red and peeling. He wanted to pass out from the intensity of the heat, but found that he couldn't. He didn't know why. He sat with his eyes closed, willing away the pain that had been flooding through his body for the past... he didn't know how much time had gone by. He found that he didn't care. His breath was raspy and his throat was so dry it felt almost as if it, too, was peeling.

The interrogation had been brutal, but Nova hadn't expected any less from slave-driving cowards. He'd heard a lot about the Bureau of Internal Investigation during his years with Cosmo, but nothing that could have painted a picture of what they were really like. The story he'd heard from Deric about their enslavement of telepaths was certainly disturbing, but he suspected they were capable of far worse. He wasn't sure he wanted to know everything they had done, but somehow that didn't seem very important right then. It was somewhat less of a priority than survival.

He didn't think they'd kill him, though. Not yet. He'd told them Deric was dead, but he knew they wouldn't believe him. But he didn't know what else to do. He felt helpless, sitting here in this torture chamber, undoubtedly awaiting yet another bout of unbearable heat, or else a lifetime prison sentence, probably on a remote colony somewhere south of the Auroran border. Or worse. But he knew he'd have to play it by ear. If they wanted to torture him some more, so be it.

He found himself wondering how serious he was about that.

He looked down at his ankle bindings. Beneath them the skin was blistered and throbbing. At one point he remembered having seen them begin to glow orange in the heat. They were back to their silver, indifferent colour now, but he now didn't care what they looked like, what the pain felt like. He felt numb to it all now, and just waited for the next one to strike.

As if on cue, the door slid open. To his surprise, when the familiar boots walked into the room, he felt his hair pulled back and the blindfold tied once more across his eyes. Sure enough, he soon heard the clicking of the woman's high heels approaching the chamber. He chuckled to himself. He hadn't been keeping track of time, but he could now safely assume that he'd lasted a couple of hours - not bad, considering the circumstances. Suddenly, he felt much better.

The high heels walked around the chair again, as they had done before. Despite his lack of clothing, Nova didn't feel any more intimidated than he had last time. If anything, he felt more confident, now that he'd withstood everything they had thrown at him.

"Well, Nova, it appears you're more resilient than we thought you were." She chuckled softly. "Do you really think this is going to change anything?"

"I'm not trying to," Nova replied, his voice raspy. "You're still no closer to finding him than you were before. Otherwise, I'd be dead by now."

"Don't tempt me," the woman said, her amusement gone. "It really doesn't matter how much you do or do not choose to tell us. We have ships all over Federation territory on the hunt for him. We will find him with or without your help. You'll just stop prolonging the inevitable and perhaps save yourself some more suffering. So what will it be, Nova?" She leaned in close, close enough for him to smell the coffee on her breath. "Where is your telepathic friend?"

If his throat hadn't been so dry, Nova would have spit in her face.

After a moment of his silence, the woman stood again and sighed. "You know, you're perhaps the most stubborn prisoner I've ever had in this chamber. Most of them don't even last an hour. That either makes you very brave, or very stupid."

"Neither," said Nova. "I just enjoy pissing you off."

Just as it had done a few hours before, the gloved hand struck the side of his face. His cheek throbbed, but he felt an irresistible satisfaction at having touched the right nerve. Her voice was a harsh whisper. "Enjoy it while you can, Nova. After what I've got in store for you, you'll wish you were in Hell."

Nova didn't get a chance to respond before the first tremor. It came unexpectedly and shook the room violently. Within moments, there were Fed officers barging through the door. "Commander Krane!" said one of them. "We're under attack!"

Krane sounded furious. "What!? By whom?"

"They're Rebels!"

Nova heard rapid footsteps as Krane rounded his chair and began barking orders at the man who had spoken. "Put this station on red alert! I want all troops on duty to meet them!”

He heard another soldier run in. “It’s no use, Commander! They’ve come in large numbers, and the nearest reinforcements aren’t even in the system!”

“How did they get past the main fleet?! What happened to the orbital defence grid?”

“Most of the fleet was called to Earth on priority. We only had one Carrier left in the system!”

“What?!” Krane sounded incensed. “Who authorized that?”

“Lieutenant Commander Donovan, ma’am!”

There was a long moment of silence before the station shook again, and Krane snapped back to attention. “All right, get to your battle stations, all of you, and tell security to detain Donovan! If this station falls into enemy hands, it’ll be your hides!”

Nova heard the footsteps again, but then something else happened, and he felt his chair knocked over and he grunted as his shoulder made unwelcome contact with the floor. The explosion had happened behind him, right near the door, and there was one less pair of boots resonating across the sturdy metal floor.

Then there were more footsteps, and hand-blaster fire. Instinctively Nova shrank, becoming as small a target as he could. He could hear grunts and cries as men of both the Bureau and the Rebellion fell. He wished he could cover his ears against the invading noise. The body of what he assumed to be a Bureau soldier fell nearby, and the odour of singed flesh filled his nostrils.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, and a hissing sound filled the room. He began to cough; someone had thrown a smoke bomb. Bootsteps filled the room, but he could no longer hear Krane’s distinctive high heels. She had escaped.

“Hold fire!” called one voice, and the sounds of the hand-blasters faded. The room was still filled with smoke, but Nova had gotten over his coughing fit, and the silence in the room was complete save for the sounds of the soldiers’ boots as they entered the small chamber.

He could hear them talking. “Where is he?”

“I can’t see a damn thing in this smoke!”

“Sir, Krane seems to have escaped.”

“How? We were all in the hallway, she couldn’t have snuck past us!”

“Nova!”

“Where? Where is he?”

“Over here, I found him!”

Soon, Nova felt his chair pulled roughly to a standing position, and then felt the bindings on his arms and legs unfastened. Then the blindfold came off, and he found himself staring into the face of none other than Connelly himself, dressed in a Bureau uniform.

His features contorted. “You! You work for the Bureau? You slimy piece of—”

But then he saw the other soldiers around him in their green Rebel outfits, and the anger left his face as comprehension dawned on him. Then he looked back to Connelly, and said, “never mind. I’m sorry.”

Connelly shook his head. “Forget it. Can you stand?”

He nodded, and with some effort rose to a standing position. Then he realized he didn’t have any clothes on, and he moved to cover himself. “I, um… they cut off my—”

“We know. Here,” said one of the soldiers nearby, thrusting a green uniform at him. He stared at it for a second before taking it. A green Rebel uniform. “But this… it’s a…”

“It was all we could find aboard the Brightman,” said Connelly, “so it’ll have to do. But after what you just put up with for the last two hours, you’ve earned it. Now come on, we have to leave the system before other Federation reinforcements get here.”

Nova nodded and dressed quickly. They started cautiously out into the hallway. “But they’ll follow you! You shouldn’t have come for me. You’ve been exposed, and once you leave the system—”

“We’ve already thought of that,” said Connelly, edging carefully around a corner and passing back a hand-blaster for the boy to use. “Don’t get your ego too inflated, kid – we’ve been planning this assault for the past month. Your kidnapping was the perfect distraction. We jammed their transmissions before we got here. When we leave, we’ll mask our hyperspace trail on their frequency, and everything here that suggests the Rebels ever crossed the doorstep will be vaporized.”

Nova glanced around the next corner, nodding admiringly. “I’m impressed.”

“You damn well should be.”

They rounded another corner. Nova’s burnt skin was protesting every step but he didn’t complain. He kept his senses as alert as possible.

And then a hand-blaster bolt nearly fried its way through his skull.

He leapt back, and the other soldiers took up positions along the sides of the corridor as the firefight ensued. Connelly began to fire blind, and Nova heard a few cries from down the hall. He spotted a blue uniform advancing on them, and took aim. The soldier fell silently to the floor.

It was beginning to get warmer as the blaster bolts zipped through the air. Nova pushed some sweat-soaked bangs away from his forehead as the group of Rebels began to advance. They were losing men on their side, too; three men had fallen to the Bureau officers. But the enemy had lost at least five, and counting.

And then Connelly edged closer to Nova. “I think we’ve been going the wrong way!”

“What makes you say that?”

Connelly pointed farther down the hall, though it was getting more and more difficult to see through the steam and smoke of the blaster fire. “Look through that door – it’s some kind of tank.”

Nova’s eyes widened. “You don’t think that’s a fuel tank, do you?”

The two shared a moment of dread before Connelly began to shout. “Wait! Hold your fire! Damn it, hold your fire!!”

But it was too late. A Rebel soldier fired into the steamy hallway, and then a concussive explosion resonated from the invisible spot where the bolt had made contact with a fuel reserve.

The blast consumed almost all of the remaining Bureau soldiers, and Connelly turned to bark orders, but the Rebels were already running. Nova followed them, silencing his body, which was screaming in pain from the effort. His blisters rubbed against the harsh material of the Rebel uniform, but he kept running, following the Rebels away from the blasts.

It wouldn’t be long before the entire station would be engulfed in flame.

Nova felt the heat of the explosions at his back, and he put on an extra burst of speed, catching as well as he could up to the Rebels ahead of him. Two by two they burst out of the front door of the Bureau headquarters and out into the open air, the fire and blasts just seconds behind them.

When Nova looked up, he found himself staring into the muzzle of a hand-rifle held by a tall, dark-haired Bureau officer.

He immediately put up his hands in a gesture of surrender, a look of hatred passing across his face. Nearby, he saw Connelly and the other soldiers in the group doing the same thing, other Bureau officers pointing more hand-rifles at them.

And then he heard that cool, female voice. “Well, well, well…”

He could hear her footsteps on the grass behind the group of Bureau men. In the distance he could see a Valkyrie fighter and several Federation scout and assault ships.

And then he saw the woman herself, and he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. The confident gait… the stunningly blonde hair… the deep blue eyes.

It was the woman from Kane’s Lubritorium.

She laughed at the look of dawning recognition on his face. “Do I look familiar, Nova? I should. The amount of times you and I were in the same bar and didn’t realize who the other was… simply amazing, isn’t it? I suppose the jig is up now, but I don’t really need to worry about that… not now that I have one of the Rebellion’s commanding officers in my grasp.”

She looked to Connelly, still dressed in his blue Bureau uniform. “So, Donovan… is that even your real name? A pity you didn’t realize how many secrets I make a point of keeping to myself.” She gestured to the group of men behind her. “What do you think of our newest technological advancement? I call it a conveyor. These men were on the other side of New England only ten minutes ago. And now, you see, you’ve walked into my little safety net.”

She eyed the still-burning building. “You know, I never really liked that old place anyway. And it was worth sacrificing it for this little piece of juicy gossip. Nova Rogue is working for the Rebellion nowadays, is that it? And oh… that must mean that those gentlemen on Merrol you’ve been consorting with are in on it too! My, my. Looks like your little campaign is as good as over.

“But I must say,” she continued, “I am impressed with your armaments. Rebellion-adapted Federation Destroyers… Starbridge freighters… Valkyries. You’ve done an impressive job there.”

Nova bit his lip to keep the tiny bit of mirth he’d just felt concealed. She didn’t know about their infiltration into Sigma Shipyards.

But that seemed little consolation at the moment.

Krane strode over to Connelly, holding a small communicator. “All right, then. Tell the fleet you’ve got in orbit to land and disembark with their hands in the air or you and every man you’ve got here will be executed for treason.”

Connelly snorted. “Do you really think that’ll stop them? We’re a security risk now. I bet there’s a commander up there giving an aerial bombardment order as we speak.”

Krane laughed. “Oh, you can’t fool me. The Rebels wouldn’t give up the information you’ve managed to gather that easily. And besides, the residual weapons signatures would lead the Federation to them easily. Now, do as you’re told, ‘Donovan’.”

Nova watched him, his masked anxiety mounting by the moment. He found himself praying that the Destroyers above would start a planetary bombardment. He unconsciously bit his lip as Connelly began to reach for the communicator.

And then, before his eyes, everything turned white. He cried out, believing for a moment that there actually had been a bombardment. The last thing he heard was a high-pitched whistling sound, and then shouts and cries and blaster fire, and then the world re-materialized before him, and he found himself staring into the eyes of none other than Iris.

“Iris!” He glanced around himself. “Where the hell are we? What happened? What’s going on?”

Iris couldn’t hold back a grin. “We’re in the operations room for the Bureau’s new conveyor. Not bad, huh?”

Nova found himself momentarily speechless. And then, when he finally found his voice, all he could manage was, “what the fuck is going on here?”

Iris grinned again, turning back to the console and pressing some buttons. “Well, Connelly has apparently been a plant in the Bureau for over a year. When the Fed soldiers brought you here, Smart knew about it right away. So we launched a fake assault on the headquarters to get you out. But this,” he said, indicating the console, “is the real beauty of the plan. Right now, there are sixty Rebel soldiers where you were just standing.”

Nova still couldn’t quite process it all. “But… but how did you get in on this?”

Iris shrugged. “We have one of the fastest ships in the Rebel fleet, and you know I’m good with codes. So, we tried out Smart’s new design for an experimental cloaking device and got the Pearl in undetected. I’ve blocked out Krane’s remote access, and when we leave, we’ll be taking this conveyor system with us.”

By now, Nova was grinning. But then Iris turned around again and got a good look at his friend, his expression changing dramatically. “Nova, oh my God… what did they do to you?”

He lightly touched Nova’s arm, and Nova winced. “It hurts, but I’ll be all right.”

Iris nodded. “My job was to get you out and get those soldiers in. Come on, the Pearl’s just outside.”

They hurried out of what turned out to be a small, stand-alone room in the middle of a stand of trees and tall grass. In the distance he could see smoke rising from what must have been the engulfed Bureau headquarters. He hurried as quickly as he could through the grass and saw the white sheen of his Starbridge ship in the distance. It wasn’t long before they’d covered the distance and were running up the boarding ramp.

Nova hurried down the corridor and settled into his chair. “I thought they took the Pearl when they got me!” he said to Iris, who soon sat down next to him.

Iris shook his head. “We don’t know why they left it. Hurry, hit the power.”

Nova did as he was told, activating the ship and powering up the Thorium engines. Within minutes, the craft was beginning to rise, and began to drift across the landscape. Nova looked again, noting with some satisfaction that the Bureau was obviously losing the skirmish on the ground.

And then he saw something else. “Iris, look! Krane!”

He looked. Krane was making a break for the Valkyrie vessel some distance away. She was already boarding, and soon the ship began to lift away and the engines began to fire.

Iris checked the IFF. “It’s reading as the Prodigal Son. She’s powering shields and weapons!”

“I’m on it!” said Nova, charting a pursuit course. They followed theProdigal Son away from the surface of the planet and into the atmosphere. Soon, they were breaking out into deep, black space.

Nova glanced at Iris. “Hit the blasters before she gets far enough away to go to hyperspace! We can’t afford to lose her!”

Iris obeyed, and blaster fire began to spray from the nose of the Midnight Pearl. Nova watched as it splattered against the Prodigal Son’s shields, and the Valkyrie began to take evasive manoeuvres. “Stay on her,” said Nova. “If we can disable her ship, the rest of the fleet can get her into custody.”

No sooner had the words escaped his lips than there was a beeping sound from the console. Iris looked. “Nova, I’ve got two Fed scout ships closing fast!”

“Shit!” Nova began his own set of evasive manoeuvres. “She must have gotten a message to the surface. I thought Connelly said they jammed communications!”

“Only inter-system ones!” said Iris. “We didn’t think of something like this happening!”

The blaster bolts began to hit them with full force, and they felt the pummel of IR missiles. Nova glanced at the shields: eighty-one percent. “Iris, keep firing at that Valkyrie! If we can get her shields down we might be able to take her hyperdrive offline!”

For his part, he was trying to stay on the Prodigal Son while still dodging this way and that to avoid the scout ships. He hit the com panel and opened a channel to the Rebel fleet. “Attention all Rebel vessels! This is the Midnight Pearl! We’re attempting to detain the Prodigal Son but we’re under attack! Requesting backup!”

“Prodigal Son shields down to thirty-six percent!” yelled Iris. “She’s powering up the hyperdrive!”

The com panel flashed, and Nova tapped it, staying on his manoeuvres. Shields were now down to fifty-eight percent. “Midnight Pearl, this is the Brightman. Two fighters have been dispatched to your co-ordinates. Hold tight.”

If he’d had time, he’d have sent a thank-you.

Iris was still firing. “Prodigal Son shields down to seventeen percent and—”

He cut off abruptly, and Nova watched in dismay as the Valkyrie streaked into hyperspace, headed for the Sol system. He cursed under his breath.

But there were more important issues at hand.

He opened the com channel again. “Brightman and any nearby Rebel ships, this is the Pearl. The Prodigal Son has escaped. Returning to the system centre. Be prepared to back us up.”

The reply came almost instantly. “Negative, Pearl. Sensors read your shields at less than twenty percent. Get your asses out of here!”

Nova looked; shields were critically low. There was no time to argue. Already he could see the green Rebel ships winking into view, and he punched the accelerator. “Bring the hyperdrive online. Re-route auxiliary power to shields! This is gonna be close!”

They were still getting hammered by their pursuers, and Iris watched the shield gauge warily as he brought the hyperdrive engines online. “Powering hyperdrive! Three minutes to hyperspace!”

“We may not last that long!” He swerved again, still trying to evade their pursuers. Then his eyes widened slightly. “The cloaking device! Can you activate it?”

Iris checked the panel. “There’s not enough power to get it stabilized.”

“Re-divert power from shields! If they can’t find us, they can’t kill us!”

“But Nova, what if—”

“Just do it!”

Iris reluctantly adjusted the power matrix. Immediately there was a whining hum as their shields dropped, and for several precious seconds, they were fully vulnerable. Sparks flew as the Pearl took a repeated beating from the missiles flying at them from the scout ships. Nova glanced at Iris. “The sooner the better!”

Iris’ hands were flying over the panel. “Hold tight! Full cloak in three… two… one…”

Nova heard another hum, this one very low. After a few seconds, he gently swerved off to the right, bringing the Pearl about in a broad half-moon. The two Fed scout ships sailed harmlessly past, no longer firing their missiles. Nova watched with a smug grin on his face as they flew around in confused circles before they both streaked off into hyperspace, heading toward the Kane Band.

Iris sighed, slumping back in his chair. “That was too close. Should we go back to the fleet?”

Nova glanced at the panel, shaking his head. “No. One minute till hyperspace engines come online… I say we get those shields back online and then get going. As fast as possible.”

“What? Why?”

He pursed his lips. “We need to get to Merrol. The Pearl should be faster than anything the Feds have.”

Iris frowned. “Merrol?”

“The Bureau knows about the Rebel staging point on Merrol. You can bet your ass the first thing Krane’s going to do is to get reinforcements and make a beeline for it.”

Iris began to tap a few of the controls, recharging the shields. “Do you think we’ll make it?”

“We have to,” Nova said, staring out into the darkness of space. “If we don’t, there’ll be nothing left to save.”