Chapter Forty-Five

The Guildmaster seemed to fill the screen as Sester sat with formal attention. Venner's voice was terse and commanding. "I want you here within the week. You will stay five days. I will leave it to you what excuse you give to your employer and the people on the ship.”

Sester’s throat tightened. He could taste the beginnings of fear but he could not turn away, his master wanted to see his eyes when he answered.

He reached for the cold professionalism that always served him well. “I will be there within the week, sir.”

“Good. You know that I don’t like doing this but I have no choice.”

“I understand, sir. I need no explanation.”

After the communications had ended, Sester sat for a long time in the dark of his observer craft.

**********

Today was a big day. With a tie and a win by the women, the honour of the men was at stake. It was a politically charged situation that guaranteed full attendance by the entire ruling body of the Chandaran Senate, including Kirsten's father.

When Reya and the women of the Third Challenge arrived, it was to controlled chaos. The main Presidential hall of Chandar was lively with Senators, self-important functionaries and busy media people. Excitement and bravado seemed to be the order of the day. The men were certain and/or determined they were going to win.

There were murmurs of surprise and loud disapproval at the uniforms the women wore. They had duplicated the ones that had been given to them for the Second Challenge; the wine red that had become their banner of triumph.

Former President Brent said approvingly when Reya approached, "Good colours."

Reya said, "I hope it isn't too subtle."

Brent chuckled as President Trist came over to greet them. "Interesting choice of uniform."

Reya bowed her head formally in welcome. "We thought so."

Even though Trist was the president now, Brent seemed more to fit the role. He had the easy flair of leadership where Trist was clearly only fulfilling the role because he felt he had no choice. People deferred to them both but Trist didn't seem to mind. If anyone suggested that Brent should take the role, Trist would probably jump at the chance.

The women huddled nervously together under the curious and often hostile stares directed at them. Heavily armed security personnel was visible everywhere. Everyone had been subjected to a weapons scanner before entering, to the strong protests of those who felt they had a right to bear arms at all times, but no one was taking any chances.

Kirsten's eyes kept returning nervously to the main doors as she kept up a light banter with the other women. Her father had not arrived yet.

She'd always been able to handle her father to some extent, enough to avoid being propertied off for political gain; humouring him and acting the proper submissive Chandaran female in order to avoid his wrath, all the while subtly manipulating him. She had not always succeeded. No amount of manoeuvring could change his obstinate attitudes about women. When he was angry, he could be an intimidating man and he had the power to make her life miserable.

Kirsten had never directly opposed her father before and it made her apprehensive that she was planning to do so now. She was used to deferring to him in all things, at least on the surface. Facing him with a mixture of fear and determination; playing a dangerous game with a man who saw her as his property. Most times deflecting his wrath and at others, she would deliberately provoke him, just to see him lose control even though it resulted in punishment for herself.

She had fought all of her life for the things that she had finally achieved this past month. No one was going to take them away from her, not even her father.

Sester's final words came to her. Focus on what you need to do. Reduce it to a game in your mind. See nothing but the strategy, the goal and the pieces that need to be moved. Forget the who and focus on the what.

Is that what you're doing now? She had teased him, causing a look of annoyance on his face.

It's what I always do.

There had been something odd about him though. He was distracted, distant. Not rising to her baits. He almost seemed anxious but she had a suspicion that it wasn't about the Challenge.

Senator Jernis swept into the room like a whirlwind of hostility. The tension level in the room instantly doubled. He was frustrated and outraged at the results of the Challenges so far. Several of his plans had been thwarted, due to judicious observations by the Athol surveillance teams and coordination with the President's security people.

Sester's estimation of the assassination attempt on Reya's life had not materialized but it wasn't from lack of trying on Jernis's part. At first, the Senator couldn't understand why support suddenly evaporated, or people could not be found when he needed them. After a while he knew and now he was livid.

Sester had been behind the entire thing. When he wasn't helping with training the women, he had been providing support to the surveillance teams with Argus and coordinating efforts with the President's men. Of course, under close supervision by the increasingly busy and now totally distracted Avon.

He had engineered the Senator's anger and frustration to a boiling point. Only Sester and Kirsten knew the true significance of what he had been doing, that there had been a different motivation other than the simple one of thwarting the Senator's plans.

Kirsten was about to put their plans into action. A man with her father's level of anger was dangerous, to both himself and the people around him. He could also be manipulated easily if you knew how. Kirsten had been doing it most of her life. Sester had built his strategies with this ability in mind.

The psychostrategist had introduced her to the world of wider implications. He showed her that she could do a lot more with her abilities than simply reacting in the moment and for limited personal considerations. With the right strategy, she could affect the fates of all of the women.

With both trepidation and firm resolve, she went to face the man who was her father.

Jernis's moustache twitched as he spotted her approaching. He said with harsh, unwelcoming tones, "Get back to your position, woman."

Kirsten maintained coolly respectful. "Father. I have something to say, and then I will go."

He waved his hands in casual dismissal. “I have no interest in anything you would have to say.”

Kirsten knew that one of her first challenges would be to get her father to take her seriously. He saw her as a female, and thus not worthy of his attention, but in his eyes, she was also his child.

Reya noticed Kirsten talking to the volatile Senator and began edging towards them.

Kirsten said, “You might want to hear this, father. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

Jernis stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Her words and manner were still somewhat respectful but she was no longer acting the intimidated child. “Speak.”

“I wish to leave Chandar, father.”

This was an inconceivable concept to Jernis. He asked in confusion, “What do you mean leave?”

“After the Challenges, I'm not coming back to Chandar.”

The full impact of what she was saying suddenly hit her. I don’t have to be afraid of you anymore, I am not coming back.

“We’ll see about that!” Jernis grabbed for her arm as if to restrain her but suddenly Reya stepped in between them. The look in her eyes was icy and dangerous. “What is the problem here, Senator?”

“It’s all your fault! You and your treacherous ideas! I should kill you!”

Reya said evenly, “I believe you’ve tried several times.”

Jernis froze and then he glanced around nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a faint hint of sarcasm in Reya’s tone but she kept a professionally polite manner. “I’m sure you don’t.”

Jernis’s voice was full of harsh accusation. “Did you put her up to this?”

Reya turned to Kirsten in query.

The Chandaran woman continued with her respectful daughter routine even as her words put her further away from him. “I told my father that I was going to ask for asylum and that I wasn’t coming back to Chandar. I thought it only proper to inform him as he is my father.”

Reya’s eyes widened imperceptibly at the young woman’s brash action but she maintained her composure. She held Kirsten’s eyes briefly and then she turned to Jernis. This was an issue that had to be addressed eventually, though she would have preferred at a more controlled time and with someone less hostile. “Kirsten is correct, Senator. She has asked for asylum with us and we are inclined to grant her request. I apologize that you had to find out this way. We are preparing a petition for your President to consider.”

“That’s preposterous! I will not agree to this! Kirsten is coming back with me!”

“I beg to differ, Senator Jernis. Until the Challenges end, Kirsten and the other women are protected by Challenge protocol. Once she requests asylum, she will be protected by me. As Champion, I have certain responsibilities as you know. Any Chandaran can petition a Champion for protection if there has been a miscarriage of justice.”

The Senator’s eyes seemed to bulge from his head at this statement. He said with tight anger, “That does not apply to women.”

“Do I have to remind you, Senator, that none of your laws specifically exclude women?” Reya could imagine that the Senator was going to march straight out and make sure that all Chandaran laws be changed to close this loophole.

“I will not agree to this!”

Reya was a rock of calm against his rushing anger. “Are you saying that you are not agreeing to your own laws, Senator?”

President Trist came over, expecting to have to adjudicate. “Can I be of assistance?”

Jernis said, “Mr. President, have you heard what they’re going to do?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Your Champion is going to grant asylum to my daughter. She’s under some ridiculous notion that I can’t treat my property any way I want.”

Trist nodded gravely as he considered this. “It does fall within the rules and privileges governing Champions. She does have the right and the responsibility.”

Reya said, “I pointed out to the Senator that your laws do not explicitly exclude women.”

“You are right within the letter of the law.”

Jernis protested forcefully, “It’s a technicality!”

Trist had the reputation of a man who kept strictly to the law. Amongst the Champions, he was its guardian. “It is the law, Senator and we must maintain the law.”

Reya said, “We understand that some of your people would not be agreeable to this. You consider your women as property and losing them would be losing an asset. We are prepared to compensate you for any apparent loss. Within limits, of course. The Tellarans have agreed to pay the price for whichever woman requests asylum.”

Kirsten jumped on this. “No!”

They all turned to her in surprise.

Jernis said, “Are you coming to your senses?”

Kirsten had been standing behind Reya but she stepped forward. “I am, father. That is why I wish to be free. However, I will not be bought and sold like a slave. Not even for my freedom.”

Reya said, “Kirsten…” This was what they had all planned. What was this woman doing?

“I’m sorry, Champion Reya but that is how I feel.”

Jernis said, “Then you are coming back with me.”

“No, father.”

President Trist asked, “What is it you wish to do, Kirsten?”

“I wish to earn my freedom.”

Trist asked, “You mean through the Challenges?”

“No. I wish to earn my freedom from my father.”

Jernis said with lips deformed by a sneer, “What nonsense is this?”

Kirsten took a quick, deep breath. “I know that you don’t like what’s been happening with the Challenges, father. You most likely feel that the men who’ve been fighting us are inadequate in some way.”

“Them?” Jernis snorted, “Even I could do better. If this were a real Challenge…”

Kirsten’s heart leapt in triumph but she was careful not to show any reaction. “Then take their place, father. You were a fleet Captain once. I am willing to face you in combat. For my freedom.”

Jernis thought quickly and then a sly smile spread across his face. He faced Trist, “If the President is agreed to the change, then I would be more than willing to take command in this contest.”

Trist said, “Champion Reya, are you agreed? Senator Jernis is one of our renowned fleet captains. Facing him will be very different from facing those on the men’s team.”

Kirsten touched Reya’s elbow.

Reya said, “I would like a moment to consult.”

“By all means.”

**********

There was a displeased frown on Reya’s face, “Alright, what’s going on? What has Sester been up to?”

Kirsten nodded. “He said that you would guess he was behind this.”

“He did, did he?”

“He also said to ask you to trust him. He said that this will achieve a much better result than your plans.”

Reya scowled. “He told you to keep it a secret?”

Kirsten looked down. “Yes. He said…that you likely won’t agree if we told you what we were planning.”

“And he would be right. This is a big risk that we don’t have to take. Jernis is a fleet captain.”

“We knew that. Sester has been preparing me.”

Reya felt like doing something very painful to Sester but she pushed down her anger and remained controlled. “The three of us are going to sit down and have a serious talk after this.”

“So you’re agreed then?”

“Have the two of you left me any choice? We can’t be seen to be the ones to back down. It will weaken our already weaker position.”

Kirsten said fiercely, “I’m going to win, Reya.”

Reya wished she had the woman’s confidence. “We’re counting on you.”

**********

After they returned, Reya said to Trist and Jernis, “I am agreed to this change.”

Jernis smirked. “Prepare to lose then.”

Kirsten said, “I would like to make one more request.”

This time Reya stared at her. What else were these two up to?

President Trist asked, “What would you like to say, Kirsten?”

“I would like to know what the results would be with this new change.”

Trist said, “You will obtain your freedom. This was already referred to earlier. You wished to fight your father in order to earn the right to chose.”

Kirsten nodded. “But I don’t feel right about using my friends.”

“You can’t run the ship without them.”

“And I can’t ask them to fight just so that I can be free.”

Trist said gravely, “I see.”

Kirsten turned to Jernis. “Father, in your eyes, women aren’t worth anything. And I’m sure that you consider yourself worth more than a hundred women.”

Everyone looked at Jernis, wondering how he would react.

Jernis’s eyes narrowed. There was no question that he felt himself worth thousands of women at least. However, to acknowledge this would mean that Kirsten would demand the freedom of the other women as well. “You want me to free all of them if you win?”

“Yes, father.”

“Agreed.”

There were astounded faces all around but Kirsten suppressed a feeling of satisfaction. She knew why her father had agreed, he didn’t think he could lose.

**********

The Justice was parked in the middle of nowhere; namely, a half hour's distance from the region of space mapped out for the final Challenge. The ships on both sides were far enough away from the field that no one could be accused of interfering with the contest.

Argus grumbled, "Was it really necessary for us to be way out here?"

Vila said as he passed around a tray of colourful drinks, "You'd think they didn't trust us." He and Corinne had been experimenting with the beverage dispensers and they had whipped up a few special ones for the occasion.

Avon had almost buried one of the couches in comfortable pillows so that Cally could lie restfully while they watched the final Challenge on the main viewscreen. He hovered nearby, presumably in case she didn't have enough pillows. "They don't."

Vila held out the tray to Argus. Eying the far-too fruity-looking drinks (some had little umbrellas in them!) with scepticism, he said, "Thanks but no thanks. I'll just have some water. I don’t drink when I’m on duty."

“You’re not working. You’re part of the audience.”

Argus scowled slightly, with the duty sergeant taking the flight deck shift, he couldn't even claim that as an excuse.

Pointing to a glass filled with light green liquid, Vila said, "Try this one. You'll like it. I call it, ‘The Champion’."

"Oh?" Argus picked it up and held it up to the light. There were swirls of dark green snaking through it. "What's in it?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Vila said with a big grin. "But what's life without a little danger?"

Argus said, "I wouldn't know." He downed the drink and nearly choked as daggers of ice seemed to spear his brain. When he could finally speak, he wheezed, "What…is this?"

"Eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat…"

Avon said in a not-too-pleased tone, "That's Macbeth."

Cally said, "You see, Avon. It wasn't a total waste of two hours of your life." Rather than make Avon read poetry to her, she had persuaded him that a play might be more interesting and would serve as a good interactive activity.

Avon said dryly, "I don't consider this adequate proof that it wasn't."

Vila had a puzzled expression on his face, “What’s Macbeth? I heard it on an old vid-program. It was about witches and…”

Avon said pointedly to Cally, “You were saying?”

Argus was still trying to unfreeze his brain. "Can someone explain to me what all this has to do with what I was asking?"

Avon said, "Nothing. It was only Vila's poor approximation of humour."

Vila asked Argus, "Do you like it?"

"Ask me when my brain is talking to me again."

The unusually silent Sester had been staring intently at the viewscreen that was picking up the broadcast. "It's started."

Chapter Forty-Six

The two ships of the Challenge stalked each other like flying predators, each determined to possess this territory as their own. They hid in amongst the broken pieces of a dead planet that had exploded millennia ago. It was a graveyard of odd items, including the burnt out husks of abandoned ships destroyed during the alien invasion. There were denser areas of debris, like a swarm of intergalactic garbage, dangerous if you didn't have a good pilot with sharp eyes and ever-quicker reflexes. Pieces of old ships and machinery of a once thriving civilization still carried charges and heat signatures, confusing any scanner readings. With the interference, long-range communications was sporadic. The ships were truly on their own.

Weapons had been disabled and special low yield ones installed. Additional hull sensors approximated real damage when weapons hits were registered, artificially disabling ship systems. The fight between the opponents was to be non-lethal but any mistakes in manoeuvring amongst the wrecks of forgotten humanity could prove fatal.

**********

Vila’s neck was craned towards the screen. His hand gripped his glass tightly and he unconsciously swerved along with the movements of the ship on the screen.

So far, neither side had gained the advantage. Jernis kept up constant attacks but Kirsten managed to avoid most of them. Her ship had only fired a few, almost tentative shots. At first, she seemed more interested in running and avoiding trouble but soon it became apparent that Jernis was becoming increasingly frustrated by his inability to beat her. In his experience, when your enemy ran, it was because they were defeated or it was a trap. But Kirsten was doing neither. She was taunting him. Jernis wasn't used to an opponent who ran as a form of offence.

“Oh…don’t do that!” Vila nearly spilled his drink.

The women’s ship had entered one of the large clouds of debris. It stretched the area of several Earth moons and obscured them from normal vision.

Argus said, “That should be thick enough in there to confuse scanners.”

Avon had pulled up a chair and was sitting next to Cally. “Their scanners will be blind as well.”

“They’ll have to rely on their eyes then.”

Vila had a bad feeling. He had visions of another time when he’d been dragged through a dangerous meteor storm over his protests. They’d barely escaped with their lives. But at least the objects in this debris field weren’t hurtling towards them at missile-like speeds.

They saw Senator Jernis’s ship swing around and increase to maximum speed.

Sester was still unusually quiet but his fingers played along the top edge of the couch.

Argus said, “He’s going to try to intercept them on the other side.”

Avon made some calculations on his datapad. “According to my estimates, at the increased speed, he should be well into his reserves by the time he reaches the other side.

Vila asked, “That soon?”

A smile touched Argus’s lips. “She let him use up his power.”

Avon did a few more calculations. “Yes…but the women will also require additional power to get through that concentration of debris.”

Argus said, “They would have to increase shield strength.”

Vila asked, “So it depends on who has more power once they reach the other side?”

When Avon seemed too preoccupied to answer, Argus asked, “Well?”

“They should have more than enough.”

Vila said admiringly, “Oh, that's good.”

Avon said, “Barring any unforeseen circumstances…”

Vila grimaced, “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

Argus suddenly popped up out of his seat and stared hard at the screen. Half a dozen ships had appeared and were headed towards the Challenge field. He raced to his flight station. “Zen, engines to maximum. Navigation and battle computers online.” Avon and Vila were a step behind to theirs.

“Plot course to intercept Jernis’s ship. Standard by twelve. Now.”

“Confirmed.”

The ship pulsed with silent energy as it reached full power. The main viewscreen still showed the Challenge broadcast. The ships were surrounding Jernis.

Vila asked, "How do we know they're hostile?"

The ships began firing.

"Never mind."

Jernis’s ship flared as the blasts hit his shields. Avon was checking readings at his station.

“Avon, at maximum speed, how long?”

"Twenty two minutes.”

Vila said nervously, “I hope they can hang on.”

Avon said, “It would be safer for the women to stay in the debris field until we arrive.”

Cally tried to sit up but her wound was still tender and she had to lie back down. "What about the other ship?"

Avon kept an eye on her movements. "What about them?"

"They need help too."

With icy logic, Avon said, "By the time we get there, they'll most likely be destroyed."

Argus said, "Zen, what is the maximum speed of this ship, beyond the safety measures?"

Avon turned to him. "You're not serious?"

"I don't see that we have any choice."

"Yes, we do. We will arrive in time to save the women."

Zen responded, "The highest speed possible at maximum design tolerance levels is standard by fifteen."

Avon said, "That will require manual override of the fail-safes. There will be no margin for error and the engines may suffer a catastrophic meltdown."

Vila looked pained. "Who thinks that's a bad idea?" He lifted his hand.

Argus was itching to go. In space combat, every delay could have deadly consequences. But he could not risk the life of his crew either. "Avon, you monitor ship's status. If the she looks like she can't handle it, we'll drop back to twelve. Alright?"

Given a choice, Avon agreed. "Alright."

"Disable the fail-safes."

Avon headed for the engine room.

Argus asked, "Any other objections?"

Sester still said nothing but there was a faint look of expectation in his eyes.

**********

All of the women looked apprehensively at the screen as dozens of pieces of space debris passed inches from their hull. They were travelling along the inner edge of this concentration of wreckage rather than through it to the other side. The plan was to come up behind the other ship, when they least expected and hit them with a full spread of photon blasts before they could bring their shields up.

Some of the women from the other Challenge groups were also present. They all wanted to be at the final contest.

Alara asked nervously, "When can we get out of here?" Something that looked like a large piece of machinery, half the size of their ship, had passed too close for comfort.

Kirsten looked down at her flight panel. "This should be long enough. They should be on their way. Adair, ease us out of here."

The ship moved towards a less cluttered section of debris. Everyone held their breaths as they neared the edge. Would their opponent be waiting for them?

Sentha leaned forward, her eyes squinting as she caught sight of a shape, "There's a ship out there!"

They all leaned towards the screen in alarm, fear touching their faces. Kirsten shouted, "Slow to a third impulse!"

"They're waiting for us?" asked Alara.

Sentha turned to face their leader. "They must know we're here."

Kirsten tried to check her scanners but they were still obscured by the mass of debris. Had she guessed wrong about her father? Had he done the unexpected?

For some reason, Sester's words came to her. When the time comes, I want you to think very carefully about what you're going to do.

What does that mean?

A fleeting grin lightened a face that seemed to have forgotten how to smile. For once, I have you confused?

Don't get used to it.

He leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly with his. Remember what I said when the time comes.

Kirsten thought carefully. They still had the ship. It was undamaged and their energy banks should be comparable to her father's ship. It was still an even fight. This was no time to give up. She may have been wrong about this strategy but all of the other ones had worked so far.

Adair asked, "What are we going to do now?"

Kirsten's voice was strong. "Nothing's changed. We still have a fight to win. Adair, on my command, head straight for them. Maximum speed. Charon, full spread on the photons the moment we clear the edge. Concentrate power on forward shields. Ready?"

There was a chorus of replies. "Ready."

"On my mark. Three, two, one….mark!"

The ship jumped forward.

**********

The ship cleared the dense field and everyone was prepared to come out fighting …except suddenly they were facing two unknown ships. Collective eyes widened in shock. A short distance off, they could see Senator Jernis's ship surrounded, its hull had been breached in several places and fire could be seen through emergency containment fields.

Kirsten shouted, "Full shields!" Someone hit several buttons on her control panel.

Alara's forehead wrinkled. "The markings…those are Thyssen Alliance ships." The Thyssens were mortal enemies of the Chandaran Alliance. Although, as almost every alliance in that corner of the Sector were enemies of each other, this wasn't surprising. And they all shot first and couldn't be bothered to ask questions.

The women waited but nothing happened.

Sentha asked in mystification, "What are they waiting for? Why aren't they firing at us?"

Despite the shock, Kirsten forced herself to remain calm. There wasn't time to think about why this was happening. All that was important was that these were enemy ships, though their own ship didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

Why aren't they firing at us? It's almost as if…. They know our weapons are disabled? But her father's ship was too. Unless they were going to take care of them one at a time, which seemed a waste if neither of them had functional weapons. Or her father may have provoked them in some way. That would be just like him. Her ship might not be in danger but her father clearly was.

Jernis's ship fired two plasma bolts at its attackers.

Sentha asked suspiciously, "I thought they weren't supposed to have weapons?"

Kirsten said, "They didn't remove them. They just locked the command codes out."

Alara said, "Then someone must have given them the code."

"Or they bypassed it." Kirsten wished they had enough skill to do that for their ship. Having someone like Avon around would have been very useful.

Sentha said, "That explains why they're not bothering with us yet. We're no threat to them."

Alara was still troubled. "That doesn't mean they won't be after us once they destroy the other ship."

Kirsten was looking at her father's ship worriedly. It didn't look like it would last long under the bombardment. Her father was going to die if he didn't get help.

Why should she care that her father was going to be destroyed? Didn't he deserve it? Hadn't he made her life miserable? Didn't he treat her as little more than property? Inferior in every way? Most of the men of the Challenge weren't much better. Except maybe Brady. He seemed a decent sort, for a Chandaran male. She would feel sorry if he died. But why did she also feel…

When the time comes, I want you to think very carefully about what you're going to do.

Think carefully. Suddenly Kirsten knew that she couldn't let her father die. No matter what he was or what he had done to her in the past, she couldn't let him face these overwhelming odds alone. She might hate him, she might want to leave and never see him again, but she could not sit by and let these people kill him.

Kirsten's eyes swept across the flight deck. The women were anxious and afraid. This wasn't just a contest anymore; there was a real chance of dying. "I…don't know how the rest of you feel, but that's my father out there." She still couldn't believe she was saying this. "No matter how he's treated me, I can't let him die. But I can't save him without your help. I know what I'm asking…I know it's going to be dangerous but..."

Sentha said, "Are you crazy? After what they've done to us? Why should we risk our lives for them? I say, we go back into the debris field and wait it out. Help must be coming soon."

Alara said, "Brady's on that ship. I…don't want him to die. Even if we don’t want to save any of the others, we should save him. He's a good man."

Sentha said, "But it's dangerous and we don't even have weapons. What can we do? You're just going to get us killed."

Kirsten's mind was working even faster as she pursed her lips. "We only have to hold out until help comes." She looked down at the chronometer reading on her panel. "Assuming the attack started shortly after we went into the field…then the ships should be here in another nine minutes."

"That's a big assuming," said Sentha.

"We can still see my father's ship. That means that they must have been attacked right after we entered the field."

"Or your father was waiting for us."

"It doesn't matter which. Our shields are fully functional. We should be able to hold out."

Sentha said sceptically, "Yeah, but how long?"

Kirsten said, "The men think that we're nothing. Not even capable of honour and courage. They think we know nothing about nobility and strength of character. They think that without them, we'll fall apart and can't even take care of ourselves. We've been showing them how wrong they are. But there is one thing we haven't shown them yet."

**********

Vila said in astonishment, "What's she doing?" The women's ship had moved between the main attacking force and the men's ship.

Sester finally spoke, "She's using her ship as a physical shield. They're going to protect the Senator's ship until we can get there."

When the time comes…There was a faintly pleased look on his face but his head was turned so that the others couldn’t see it. Everyone was performing exactly as he had calculated they would.

Argus said, "Zen, time to intercept?"

"Six minutes thirty-two seconds."

"Avon, how are we doing on the engines?"

"Stress levels increasing."

"Is it still within tolerance?"

Though he didn't show it, Avon had been increasingly concerned. They were skirting too close to the maximum the ship could withstand before stress fractures began to appear in the engine casing. They should drop speed now before they reached that point. He glanced at the screen and the desperate situation. The women were making a stand of courage for people who considered them inferior and treated them as little more than property; tools to be used for someone else's agenda. There was a slight grimace on his face. "For now."

**********

Senator Jernis appeared on the women's viewscreen. Emergency lights from his ship flickered in shadows across his face. A bleeding wound on his shoulder looked painful. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get out of here!" Behind him was smoke and flashes of a ship slowly falling apart.

Kirsten said, "We're here to help, father."

"I don't need your help!"

"It's a good thing for you that I'm not listening to you anymore then."

Plasma bolts hit the women's ship. Everyone grabbed onto something.

Jernis saw this and said, "Your ship is useless. Get out of the way before you get yourselves killed!"

"That's the idea, father. We're going to stand between you and the Thyssens until help arrives. Try to move behind us to the debris field."

A bolt hit Jernis's ship, cutting off their comm connection. A part of the weapons array broke off from his ship and drifted away. More bolts rocked Kirsten's ship.

One of the women reported, "We're down to thirty-percent on forward shields."

"Re-route all non-essential power to shields."

"How?"

They all looked at each other. This was not covered in their training. Avon's simulators had given them the essentials on handling a ship but nothing that required understanding of how the ship worked.

Kirsten asked, "Computer, can you re-route all non-essential power to forward shields?"

The male computer voice responded, "Yes."

"Then do it."

There was a look of relief on the women's faces.

"Leeta, how are the shields?"

"Forward is back up to sixty percent."

"Not good but better than thirty."

Alara asked nervously, "How long do you think we'll last?"

"Hopefully long enough." Kirsten was getting anxious at the non-appearance of help. It seemed like a long time had passed but her panel told her that it had only been a couple of minutes since they had used themselves as a shield for her father's ship.

Senator Jernis appeared on the screen again. The jagged metal edge of a ceiling panel hung down near where he was standing. There were scratches on his cheek. "Why are you doing this?"

Kirsten said, "Someone has to give me my freedom."

"You don't need me alive to do that and don't think that you're going to get away that easily."

"You're right, I don't. Now shut up and let me save you." Kirsten broke off the connection. More plasma bolts hit them hard, sending women flying. One of the panels sparked and exploded.

**********

Shields were almost gone on the women's ship. Fires raged inside their engine nacelles. Senator Jernis's ship was starting to break up but because of the women's protection, all of his crew had managed to get to life pods.

Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, the Justice swept in like the ancient cavalry, with neutron blasters blazing. It was an inspiring sight on all vid-screens within broadcast range.

The crew made short work of the enemy, disabling most of them and destroying one. The few that could still move, limped away at sub-light speed. It was over in a matter of minutes, leaving nothing but clean up for the Chandaran ships that arrived late on the scene.

Enterprising merchants were already planning detailed replicas of the Justice and the two Challenge ships; both before and after versions, complete with simulated fires and detachable life pods.

Sester was still unusually silent. The final step in his plan was still to materialize. A great deal had been accomplished and Kirsten and the women had performed exceedingly well, but Sester was not satisfied yet. One more thing needed to happen.

**********

Reya was waiting for the women as they came off the transport shuttles, some on foot, others on automated medical stretchers. The normally cold woman was full of warmth as she greeted each one personally, extending her congratulations and pride to all of them and making sure that they were being taken care of.

Kirsten and her father came down the ramp. His face was pale and he lay covered in blood while Kirsten followed beside him.

Jernis opened his eyes and saw her looking down at him. Kirsten didn't know what to expect. Would he be the father she always knew or had this experienced changed him?

His voice conveyed very little emotion. "You stayed?"

"I couldn't very well save you if I left," she said quietly.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes reflecting a confusing mixture of uncertain hostility, disbelief at what had happened and hesitant gratitude. "You would have made a good son."

"I make a good daughter, father."

Hard tension tightened Jernis's jaw. He was the kind of man who was too stubborn and proud to change even against the face of overwhelming evidence. "I will never see things your way."

"I know that, father."

For good or bad, Jernis was a true Chandaran; he was moved by displays of courage and nobility. Even from his own daughter. "You have won your freedom."

"What about the others?"

"I will keep my promise. I will make sure that they will be allowed to go free."

"Thank you, father."

"If you leave, you will no longer be my daughter."

"Father…" This was the final break and unexpectedly, Kirsten had pangs of regret. Not because she would miss the life here but because Jernis was the only family she had known. He may have been the source of her greatest miseries but he had taken care of her all of her life, at least in the only manner he was capable of towards her. "I understand, Senator."

Chapter Forty-Seven

The Shade lab was antiseptic and cold but Jenna was boiling with anger. "Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?"

Morten, the head of the enforcers, was a career criminal that the Shade organization charged with protecting its interests and expanding their power base. He would do whatever was necessary, no questions asked.

The enforcer was a deceptively formal and polite man who spoke with the chill of death on his lips. His hair was jet black and slicked back. He had long slender, sensitive fingers like an artist, but his talent was for death and mayhem.

He spoke in a low, raspy voice. "Your role here is to establish Shade production and distribution. Mine is to make sure that you succeed. You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I answer to you."

The dripping of water from a nearby pipe grated on Jenna's stretched nerves. "I certainly don't answer to you."

The enforcer's lips pulled back in a death's head smile. "That's true, you don't. We both answer to a higher power."

The frosty air of the lab seemed to pass right through Jenna's clothes, sending a shiver up her spine. "I answer to no one. This is just a temporary arrangement for profit."

"Why do you think I'm here?"

Jenna had the sick feeling that the situation had spiralled out of control when she wasn't looking. "I did not agree to this."

"You did when you agreed to work with us." Morten leaned on the railing with his elbows as he surveyed the lab techs below. His words were courteous, but there was an undercurrent of menace to everything he said. "You may have supplied this place and the information we needed to operate more effectively here. But don't forget that you're the one who needs us. We could do the same thing without you. Only a little slower. You have no influence on how we operate. If you keep your part of the agreement, you receive a percentage of the profits. That is how it works. The rest is none of your concern and I strongly suggest that you keep it that way, for your sake and the sake of the people on your ship."

Jenna was never one to appear weak before anyone. "I don't respond very well to threats."

Morten was the kind of man whose smiles never touched his eyes. "Did I say it was a threat? Remember that we have this base now."

His meaning was very clear. They no longer need me. Jenna wished she were wearing something warmer. It was far too cold in the lab. Morten must have orders to kill us if we interfere. It's a warning, not a threat. We were only valuable as long as they needed us. I was a fool to think that I would be controlling them.

The image of Rane plagued her. His gaunt, pale face. His laboured breathing. Curled up in a ball, his body wracked by pain that made her wince. She had tried to force him to take the Shade but his anger had stopped her. Friends don't force each other, Jenna. If you have ever considered me as your friend, then respect my wishes. Each word had been a stab of accusation. She could still feel the blades of guilt as they churned in her stomach.

I betrayed our friendship for nothing. I thought I was doing the right thing.

The weeks of lies and manipulation. Pretending that she was helping when in fact she was leading his men nowhere. It had all worked out perfectly. She was amassing a small personal fortune, far greater than the one she had lost many years ago. Soon she would have enough to resources to become a real threat.

She already had enough for her revenge. All the people were in place. The rebel leaders had all been contacted.

Then why couldn't she sleep at night? Why did all food taste like dust to her? Why was her mind burning up with opposing thoughts and conflicted feelings?

It was all justified, wasn't it? The Cause will be advanced. We're one step closer to winning. That's all that matters. Isn't it?

Blake I need you! I need you to tell me what I did was right. Everything had been so clear when Blake was around. He had been her Rock at times when all seemed lost and a whirlwind that threatened to knock down everything in his path. When he said it was right, it washed away all her doubts, the voices of guilt faded away under his belief. He had believed. He thought he had no choice but to believe.

Rane's emaciated image mouthed silent words to her. His image was becoming a skull in her mind. What about me, Jenna? Are you going to forget me? Just like you've done with all the others? How many, Jenna? How many friends have you betrayed like this? The knives churned in her stomach. Jenna grimaced and tightened her grip on the railing. Would these be the words Rane would say to her if he knew?

Do you even feel guilty anymore? Or can you sweep it all away because it's it all justified? You have your money now. You can accomplish your goals. Take it and go.

This was why she had left Blake in the first place. The blood had become too much. She was drowning in it, all for the sake of doing what was right. Ever since she joined Blake. All of those innocent people. The ones they blew up. The ones they sacrificed. She hadn't wanted to make friends any more, only to betray them with lies when they didn't want to be led to their deaths.

They're our friends, Blake.

It will be worth it in the end, Jenna. You'll see. Once we win, they'll all see that I was right.

However, she had loved Blake and she had not wanted to stop loving him. She had not wanted to stop believing in him. That was why she had left, because loving Blake meant doing what he wanted, and she couldn't do it anymore.

From a distance, she could still love the legend, the man of passion and compassion that she had admired. But Blake had felt that the only way to fight the Federation, to fight fire, was with fire. It was an old adage that had survived the millennia but she had never understood the human cost.

In her blind vengeance and guilt, she had almost forgotten how it had ended between them.

I can't be like you, Blake. Not anymore. I'm not strong enough. I can't look past…my friend. No more Ranes, not because of me.

Morten was looking at her strangely. Jenna relaxed the stranglehold she had on the rail and said, "You're right. I should mind my own business."

I will take the money and run. Do what I set out to. Destroy Avon and fund the Resistance.

"I like you, Jen, you're a smart woman but don't try to cross the organization. I'd hate to have to be the one to kill you."

"But you'd do it."

"I'm glad we understand each other.”

She had to fix the damage she had already done.

"One of the people you poisoned is a friend of mine."

Morten sighed like a man with too many burdens. "Then I understand. It's an ugly business we're in. Sometimes friends have to be sacrificed. We don't have a choice."

"I know it would be a big favour to ask but…"

"You want me to spare his life?"

"How did you know it was a he?" she asked guardedly.

The enforcer made a small gesture with his hand, "I assumed."

He must think that I'm doing this for a lover or someone very close to me.

"I'll make sure he will no longer be a threat to the organization. Just name your price. As you said, I have the credits now."

Morten smiled but sadness touched his eyes. "No money would be enough."

"But…"

"You don't understand, Jen. There is no cure."

There is only slavery. "He's going to die."

"I'm sorry. There's nothing anyone can do for him. I suggest that you go to him while he still has time left."

Jenna bowed her head, her throat was tight with an anguish that robbed her of further words. She turned to leave but Morten stopped her.

"Take my advice, Jen. Take your money and get out while you can. You're not ruthless, like most of the people I work with. You can't stomach what we need to do. You're still a decent human being."

"What about you?"

Morten had a strange barking laugh. "I've never been a decent human being. I will do whatever it takes to get the job done."

"It's never too late."

"It's my choice but it doesn't have to be yours. I don't know what your agenda was when you sought us out, Jen. I know you had one. It's written all over you. But nothing is worth the price of not being able to sleep at night."

Jenna nodded and left the labs. The price was already being paid.

Rane said that the Justice was coming. She could try to help them destroy the Shade organization on Athol. All they needed was her information. Maybe with ORAC's help, they could find the antidote. It was the only hope. Perhaps they'd be able to save Shade users everywhere. It might be able to ease her conscience somewhat. She hoped that Rane would be able to hold out.

As she stepped into the night air, the coldness of the lab fell away. There was one goal she would not give up on though, Avon had to die. She was certain that she would lose no sleepless nights over what she was planning to do to him.

**********

Long blue crest banners lined the walls of the Presidential Hall. The air was filled with hushed and excited conversations. Almost everyone wore formal military dress uniforms. Even the women had on the wine red that had become their signature colour. Reya had the Champions emblem over her left breast, the Chandaran crest cradled in strong, protective hands. The President and various functionaries stood on a large raised podium.

Reya maintained polite interest throughout the proceedings as Senators and other officials had their moments in the spotlight. This was a Sector-wide broadcast after all.

In reality, Reya was meditating on the universal need of all politicians to give long, boring, and self-gratifying speeches. She never understood the necessity herself and from the rigid expression on President Trist's face, neither did he.

When the last painful verbal sacrifice to ceremony had been performed, President Trist stood up and with formal gravity, held his hands out for attention. "Champion Reya, will you and your team approach?"

Reya led her group up to stand proud before the Chandaran President.

Trist said, "Champion Reya, when you first had the audacity to challenge us, there was a great deal of hostility and scepticism. Despite what we witnessed you doing, no one believed that women could compete with men. Many didn't think they deserved to stand on the same field. But you have proven us all wrong. In the space of a month, you've trained women who could not only stand with a man but beat him."

The crowd began to whisper amongst themselves.

Trist passed his eyes over the assembly. "I know that no one wants to admit it, but no one can deny what we all saw. Do you have anything to say before I declare the winner of this contest?"

Reya stepped forward and bowed her head formally. "President Trist. It is the women of your planet who deserve all of the credit. If they had not been capable of this in the first place, no amount of training would have helped. You have incredible women here."

"We are beginning to see that," he said gravely. "There are several matters to be taken care of today. First, the Three Challenges. The First Challenge was a draw. The women won the Second one and as for the Third,…I think we can all agree that there were, shall we say, unique circumstances. For the results of that one, I will leave to a special presenter, Senator Jernis."

Kirsten started and there were oohs of surprise as her father was rolled in on a wheelchair. His right side was immobilized in a sling and bandages were wrapped around his head. A hush descended as he was brought up to the platform.

Jernis was pale but his eyes were bright with determination. "For those who were wondering, I am not dead. Just a few minor scratches but I'll be around making trouble for many years to come."

Good-natured laughter filled the Hall. Everyone was well versed in the Senator's trouble-making capacity.

"But we are not here to talk about me. I would be the last one to admit that a woman could be the equal of a man. And I still will not." The audience seemed to be holding their breaths, wondering how much mischief he was about to perpetrate now. "But, as the President has noted, we cannot deny what we all witnessed with our own eyes. Even an old codger like me, since I was there. I will not say that women are equal to men but…I will say that it is extremely gratifying to know that our women are better than the Thyssen men."

The Hall burst into uproarious laughter. When it began to die down, he said to the women, "You acquitted yourselves with skill and distinction in all three Challenges. And for better or worse, and over the protests and antagonism of many, including myself, you've given us all a different perspective of the women of this planet."

There were reactions of surprise.

"I don't thank you but it would be small-minded of me to dismiss it." He seemed to brace himself as he turned back to the audience. "On behalf of the men's team and the adjudicators, I declare that the women are the winners of the Three Challenges."

There was stunned silence. Not because they didn't expect the results, but it was Jernis who was saying this. Scatterings of applause broken the silence but became louder as President Trist and all of the Champions added their congratulations.

Jernis held up his hand. "I'm not finished." His eyes sought out his daughter. "Kirsten, stand forward."

Kirsten took a few steps forward. Father and daughter stared at each other for a few moments. They seemed like two people who had become strangers but were trying to find a connection again.

"I made an agreement with you and I am a man of my word. I declare before this assembly and all of the Chandar Alliance that you and the women with you have won your freedom."

"Thank you…father." She waited apprehensively, wondering if he would berate her for calling him father again.

Jernis stared at her for what seemed a long time; until there were restless rustlings in the audience. President Trist cleared his throat and was about to say something but Jernis finally said, "I still do not understand what happened in the Third Challenge, but I am grateful to you for staying. If it weren't for you, we would all be dead."

"It wasn't just me. It was all of us."

The next words came from reluctant lips. "All of you showed a great deal of courage by staying when you had no weapons to face the enemy."

There were excited murmurings in the crowd.

"Had the situation been reversed, I'm not sure if I would have done the same. You showed a nobility of character and degree of loyalty that I would not have thought possible for a woman. These are traits that we hold up as ideals in our society." Jernis turned to Trist. "President Trist, I would like to put forth a submission."

"Make your submission, Senator."

Jernis paused. "I would like to submit that the women who were on the ship be considered as candidates to be made Champions of Chandar."

There was a roar of surprise as everyone reacted at once.

**********

One person was not surprised. He was the one preparing to return to the man who had been more of a father to him than his real father had been. There was no happiness; only a faint, wry satisfaction that everything had worked out exactly as he had planned.

Sester had a pang of regret at having endangered Kirsten's life but it had been a small, calculated risk. The things she had dreamed of but never considered possible was now within her grasp. The rest had been child's play for him.

He knew that Argus would move the constellations to make sure that no one died. The man was reassuringly predictable that way. He was also certain of Kirsten. No matter how she felt, she would never let her father die.

Manipulating the Chandarans had been relatively simple. They had certain weaknesses that were easily exploited using their own media broadcasts. He had been like the director of a dramatic performance, moving the players, influencing the timing and controlling the scenes in order to produce the right emotional and psychological responses. His greatest triumph had been the manoeuvring of Senator Jernis.

He had arranged it all the day the he had contacted Servalan. The Federation President had many valuable resources in interestingly low places.

No one could ever know his role in what had happened. That was the lot of the puppet master. He lurked in the shadows, pulling the strings.

Besides, he doubted if anyone would understand or appreciate what he had done. Argus and Avon would most likely draw and quarter him. With a very dull knife. The Chandarans would be outraged and shoot him on sight. But as long as they didn’t know, they could rejoice in the accidents of fate that would eventually change an entire society.

Sester wished he weren't leaving now. There were many things he wanted to say to Kirsten, but he had other priorities. With regret, he left his cabin and headed for the hangar bay.

**********

Sester paused outside of his sleek craft, ident-key in hand.

"Were you going to leave without telling me?"

How does she do that? Sester turned nonchalantly to see Kirsten coming out of the shadows. The flush of excitement and triumph were still on her cheeks. His heart beat faster.

"Yes." This was her time and he was glad for her. She didn't need to know the complexities of his life.

"Is something wrong?"

Sester suddenly wanted to gather her in his arms and go back to his cabin but he knew that he couldn't. "Nothing's wrong, I have something to attend to."

"Will you be back?"

She was standing too close for comfort. Her barely suppressed hope was a radiating warmth that threatened to melt his firm resolve. It was not enough to stop him from leaving but it filled him with regret and unfulfilled desires. "Yes."

"I'll wait for you then."

Sester nodded. They both knew that she would still be on the ship when he came back. He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. "You did very well out there. I'm proud of you."

Kirsten's face turned red. "I only did what I had to do."

"We all did."

"This victory belongs as much to you as to anyone. You're the one who suggested that I challenge my father."

"Yes, but you and the others were the ones who had to face him." He suddenly realized that they were standing even closer than before. The soft curves of her anatomy brushed lightly against his own body, sending pulses of desire through him. His voice was husky as he said, "I have to go." He deliberately took a step back. "I will be back. I promise."

**********

The Regulators were ready for Sester when he entered between the tall majestic columns of the Guild headquarters. Unlike other psychostrategists, they wore long flowing capes that seemed to swallow the light. There were no words. They gestured and he followed. Sester wished that he'd had a drink of water before leaving his ship. His mouth was dry.

The arch to Chamber Five came into view. He shivered involuntarily.

The escorts left him at the door while another gestured him forward. Attempts at humour wouldn't be appropriate at this time but Sester liked flying in the face of convention, especially in the Guild. He thought in jest, Abandon hope all ye who enter. As he passed the threshold into the murky darkness of the chamber, it became a crashing reality. The very air of the chamber seemed to reach inside him and tear out his strength.

A low booming voice ordered, “Stand in the circle.” It was his master's voice. Lights lit the edges of a circular platform. His legs obeyed automatically.

As he stood in the circle, his eyes straining into the darkness, he felt like a young child again.

“You know what to do.”

Sester began to take his clothes off, dropping each piece on the ground, wondering when he would be told to stop. Was his master angry enough with him that he would require him to be stripped bare?

The cold of the chamber was sharp against his flesh as each layer of clothing was removed. His hands went to the final one.

“Stop.”

Sester stood shivering in nothing but his shorts as silent eyes watched him. Each exhale sent a puff of warm air into the room.

“The last one.”

Sester hesitated and then he obeyed.

He stood naked now, devoid of any protection. He had become an object under someone else’s control.

“Kneel.”

He lowered himself to the ground. Sounds of feet approached and knelt behind him. Hands grabbed his arms and pulled them back, fastening his wrists with restraints, pulled tight. The unseen figures disappeared from whence they came as he knelt naked and bound in the centre of the circle. His clothes had disappeared from the platform.

“You will not move until you are told. You will not speak until you are given permission to. You may nod once.”

Sester nodded in acceptance of the treatment.

The room fell silent except for the faint sound of his own breathing. The circulation vents blew cold air across his naked body. Soon he was shivering constantly. The restraints that bit into his wrists barely allowed enough blood to pass through to his hands. It became a numbing pain but he forced himself to stay still. He was not allowed to move, not even the little bit to adjust the cuffs so that his hands would not feel like they were about to fall off.

He breathed in hissed breaths as he fought against the pain and cold. His knees soon joined the chorus of pain as the hard floor seemed to press up against them causing agonizing pressure. He applied his mind to block out everything except the mechanical act of breathing. In and out. Nothing else.

A memory flashed through his mind. Avon lying naked on the hard, cold floor of the isolation room. Moaning in agony as Sester applied more pain until he passed out or became so exhausted that he could only whimper weakly.

Sester shut his eyes against the memories. What he was enduring now was nothing compared to what he had done to Avon. He had learned his torturing skills here in the place of discipline. Soon it would not only be this psychological game to strip his identity and force his mind to work against itself. He shuddered in anticipation, unable to stop himself from visualizing what would happen next.

In the midst of it, there was one warm memory, Kirsten's hopeful face and the warm concern in her eyes. Will you be back?

I hope so.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Avon, Argus and Vila were on the flight deck, discussing Sester's abrupt departure.

Argus was at his flight station. "What do you think he's up to?"

Avon was leaning against the ledge in front of Zen. His arms were folded across his chest as he half-listened to the conversation. There was something odd about what had happened in the Third Challenge. He said absently, "Nothing good."

Vila made himself more comfortable on the couch. "A place full of people who think we're puppets? It gives me the shivers just thinking about it."

Avon looked up briefly. "I agree with Vila."

Vila twisted around to face him. "You do?"

"It's too dangerous having a group of people whose sole purpose is to manipulate others."

Argus paused in the middle of checking a reading. "I hope you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

Avon pushed himself away from the ledge. "Why not?" He approached the flight station with his hands clasped thoughtfully behind him. "They're obviously working for Servalan."

Argus said, "Servalan or the Federation?"

"Now that's an interesting question."

Vila asked, "Does it matter? Either way is dangerous for us."

Argus said, "I'm not going to blow them up. You may have been used to it with Blake, but I don't operate that way."

"That's obvious."

Argus fixed Avon with a glare. "And I believe that neither did you."

"But not out of some misplaced sense of altruism. Random acts of destruction with no coherent plan are pointless. The only thing that does is cause a lot of unnecessary suffering. Hardly in our interests if we want to convince people to fight the Federation. People rarely feel charitable once their families have become collateral damage."

"But you're proposing to destroy the Guild headquarters?"

Vila sat up. "Wait a minute; isn't Sester supposed to be there?"

Argus's eyes narrowed and he stared hard at Avon.

Avon's lips curled in a lop-sided grin. "Well?"

"Are you giving me a reason or an excuse?"

Avon asked, "Which do you need?"

"Neither. Because I'm not doing it."

"That's all I needed to know." Avon went over to join Vila at the couches.

"That's all you needed…wait a minute. You knew that I wouldn't do it."

Avon stared at the ceiling. "You're painfully predictable."

"Then why propose the idea if you knew I wouldn't?"

"You assumed."

Vila's brows were knitted as he recalled their earlier words. "Avon never said that he wanted to destroy them."

Avon folded his arms across his chest.

Argus frowned slightly as he realized this. "I'm the only one who did. As you said, I assumed."

" You're bound by the rigidity of the military mind. Even though you won't do it, your thought processes still lean in that direction."

"Alright. Now that we've established that I'm rigid…"

Vila stifled a laugh by coughing. His naughty mind was conjuring up an interesting image. He must be more tired than he thought.

Argus threw him an annoyed glance. He asked Avon, "Why don't you tell me why you brought this up? You never do anything without a reason."

"In light of our success on Chandar, I think we need to rethink our strategy. Against the Andromedans and the Federation. We need a long-term plan."

"I agree with that."

Vila asked, "You mean like what you did with the Pylene-50 and the warlords? That didn't work very well."

Avon grimaced at the reminder of failure. "I misjudged Zukan's intelligence and greed. And Servalan's deviousness. If Zukan had not turned…" Avon's jaw tightened at a stab of pain in his stomach. If Zukan had not betrayed them, the last four years of his life would have been vastly different and a friend would not be dead.

Vila asked worriedly, "Avon?"

Another stab in his chest. Fists tightened. His eyes could no longer see the present. Did I hate him that much?

Cally's worried voice entered his mind. * Avon. Are you all right? *

Vila peered into the unseeing eyes. "Avon!"

Argus rushed over and knelt down beside the man who was frozen in pain and guilt. "Avon! Stop thinking about it!"

Another stab in his chest. Like the blast of a rifle hitting, pushing him backwards. Avon collapsed back against the couch. There was a tickle of thought at the back of his mind. Odd.

He heard Cally's voice again, this time more urgent. * Avon! *

Very odd. As his mind asserted itself, he became calmer.

"Avon!" Both men shouted, trying to reach him. Argus had his hands on Avon’s shoulders, preparing to shake him out of the nightmare he was trapped in.

Avon thought to her, * I'm fine, Cally. A twinge of memory. Nothing more. *

She asked, * Do you need one of the doctors? *

"Vila, go get…" Cally was still in the medical unit recovering. "…one of the doctors. Hurry!"

Avon grabbed Argus's arm. "No."

Avon thought to her, * No. I'm fine. The others are with me. *

Cally said reluctantly, * Alright. But you will let me know if something happens? *

* I promise. *

Avon's calmer eyes focused on Argus's face. "I'm fine." He let go of the other man's arm.

Argus asked worriedly, "It still affects you, doesn't it?"

"Only if we talk about it." Avon needed time to process the idea he had. Alone.

Argus could almost hear the additional walls going up between them. Avon wasn't ready to deal with it, at least not with any of them. "Let's go back to discussing this idea of a long-term plan."

**********

"Charles."

Sester blinked as he came back to himself. He shivered violently as his sluggish mind connected with his body. C-c-cold. Parts of his body were so numb that he couldn't feel the pain anymore.

How long have I been here? Long enough for his stomach to be complaining bitterly at being neglected. More than twenty-four hours? It feels longer.

The voice boomed again. "Charles."

"Master." How many times had the master called out his name before he heard it?

“How do you feel?”

Sester knew that this question expected a different answer. It was a solicitation about his health, but not his physical one. As a child he had not known this when he was first sent to this dark chamber but he was a fast learner. “Whatever you want me to feel.”

“Good.”

The approval of his master warmed his frozen body.

“Get up.”

He grimaced at the command. This is going to be interesting. Having his hands free would have been of enormous help but they were still bound behind him. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp air enter his lungs, chilling him further. He shifted his weight to one side and cried out as thousands of hot pins seemed to stab into his knees at once. He collapsed to the ground, moaning in agony as feeling rushed back into previously numb areas.

Hooded black figures appeared at his side and removed his restraints, causing even more pain as blood rushed to deprived areas. They hauled him up unceremoniously, holding him until his knees no longer buckled under his weight. Once he was able to stand unaided, they disappeared as noiselessly as they came.

Sester stood on shaky legs as he waited for the next order. He had not expected the help, that had never happened before. It was more of the psychological game, to keep him guessing and disoriented.

Don’t expect anything and they will not be able to dash your hopes. He wondered if Avon had learned that lesson at the Detention Centre. He had to have. No man could stand the repeated destruction of hope, no matter how trivial that hope was. One had to give it up altogether or find one that his tormentors did not know about.

Sester’s hope was that his master wanted what was best for him. That was the test. No matter what was done to him, he had to believe. It had been a hard lesson to learn as a child, to trust the man who wielded the power of life and death over him; who would torment him for purposes only the master understood.

In the end, it had been worth it. He had breezed past all the trials until he stood alone as the best. He was able to achieve what no one else dared to attempt. He was the irresistible whirlwind that swept away all obstacles put in his path; single-handedly engineering the return of most of the Inner Worlds to the Federation after Star One had been destroyed. It was a masterpiece of devious politics and no one other than a select few in the Guild ever knew the instrumental role he had played behind the scenes. Not even Servalan knew even though she had briefly been the unwitting recipient of his efforts.

He didn't know what was coming next. In this room, any punishment depended on the whims of its controller. More hooded figures entered the chamber. Sester’s heart pounded in his chest when he saw the object that one of them carried. It was a silver rod the length of a man’s arm, its surface smooth to the touch, with no hint to its true purpose. Anyone could touch it without effect but when he touched it…Sester shivered. He could already feel a cold sweat. He wasn't sure he was ready for this.

All of this raced through his mind, as his face remained unmoved. The shrouded figure came to stand in front of him, the object held in both hands and extended towards him.

His master's voice boomed in command. “Take it. Do not let go until I tell you to.”

Sester took the rod firmly in both hands. It was cold and hard, its bright surface glinted in his eyes. He cried out as the rod glowed red and electrifying pulses coursed through his body; like the prods that were used on animals to tame them to their human masters. He groaned and collapsed to his knees but he did not let go of the rod.

**********

Avon was back in his lab, staring at the parts of ORAC laid out neatly on a workbench, its clear case little more than an empty shell holding dead parts. There was a faint look of disgust on his face as his fingers played absently with a laser probe. Without the proper parts, it was impossible to fix the cantankerous machine. He didn't miss the computer's insolent behaviour but it had its uses.

He sat down in front of his computer. ORAC was nothing but a computer after all, a complex machine that could process millions of computations in a nanosecond. It did not have the creativity of the human machine. Avon smiled wryly. He was the one who had the breakthrough to synthesize the Pylene-50 antidote. ORAC had simply served as a sophisticated simulation tool.

Avon began building the template of the program that would be required to run simulations on Shade antidotes. At the back of his mind, he continued thinking about the oddity.

**********

Sester moaned in agony as the pulses continued to race his body but he did not let go. He was past the point of caring that tears were flowing down his face and he was writhing in agony. It was his master's will verses the demands of his body. His fingers barely had the strength to hold the rod anymore but his master’s voice was silent as the hooded figures watched. His heart faltered.

**********

Sester regained consciousness to a hand gently stroking his head. His body was cradled in strong arms and the thick, familiar material of the Guild cape covered his body. It still carried the heat of its owner. His breathing came in shuddering gasps and his arms and shoulders were painfully numb.

He forced protesting lids to open a sliver and saw his master's face looking down at him. A sob escaped his lips. He had failed, he must have passed out and let go of the rod. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, master.”

His master's hand rubbed his back over the cape that covered his nakedness, bringing him warmth, comfort and what he needed most, forgiveness. “Shhh. It’s alright, Charles, you did well."

Tears coursed down the man's face. "No. I failed." The pain of disappointing his master was an ache that was making it hard to breathe. It was far worse than the physical pain he had endured. This was the true punishment. "I…let you down…" His body shook in silent sobs.

Venner had rushed down to the chamber when Charles fell to the ground unconscious, his hands still gripping the rod. They had to pry it from his stiff, unmoving fingers. The Guildmaster had ordered the others out and when they left, had lifted Sester's limp body into his arms. He rubbed the feeling back into unfeeling limbs before removing his own cape and laying it over him.

No one had held onto the rod this long before. Most controllers would allow a period of pain before letting the victim release the instrument of punishment. Venner had given Charles the ultimate test, pushing him to the point of collapse in order to make him fail. He should have let go, but this boy had always achieved the impossible for him. Even though Sester was an adult now, the Guildmaster still thought of him as the proud young boy who had stood defiantly before him the first time they met. There had been a flicker of fear in the boy's eyes but it had not tempered his cheeky manner.

Despite what Venner had told Deverell, or what he showed to others, he loved this boy. Charles had become the son he never had. But despite his affection for him, Venner served Guild interests first. He would never allow anything to compromise what must be done.

With his favourite, he was even more cold and ruthless, because he could not afford the weakness of human emotions to cloud his judgement. The brief glimpses of warmth were what the boy craved from him and he rarely gave it. It made the boy try his best, pushing himself beyond his limits, making him willing to do anything in order to gain the approval of his master.

Sester did not know that he had not failed and Venner was not going to tell him. It was more useful that way. The crushing feeling of being a disappointment would make Charles more tractable to his master's will. Venner continued stroking him gently; showing love at a time when the boy felt he least deserved it, binding him further. "Are you willing to take the final punishment?”

Sester felt faint, all strength had been stripped away from him. He had nothing left with which to fight but his master's presence infused his cold and numb body with a warmth that he knew he had not earned. His voice shook as he said, “Yes, master.”

“Rest now. It will begin again soon.”

Sester shuddered and closed his eyes as his master continued to give him warmth.

**********

Deverell had snuck into the controller's booth after the hooded Regulators had been ordered out of the room. He watched with fascination as Venner tended to Sester.

**********

Afterwards, Deverell met with Venner in the infirmary. The Guildmaster finished giving orders for the sleeping man's care and they both headed back to his office.

As they reached his door, Deverell said more as an observation than a question. "You're not subjecting him to the third one?"

"He doesn't need it."

"I had always wondered how you managed to handle someone like him."

"Now you know."

Deverell snorted silently. "A human weakness."

"But a useful one. It served a dual purpose. It tied him to me and it made him more effective."

"I still don't like it."

"You don't have to." Venner chose the couch rather than the chair behind his desk. Even though it wasn't he who had to suffer the Chamber the last two days, it had been a draining experience for him as well. He glanced over at the chronometer on the wall. It was too early for a relaxing drink.

Deverell said, "It's still too dangerous to have someone like him." He studied Venner out of the corner of his eyes. What he had witnessed in the Chamber had been very revealing. The ties obviously ran both ways. He wondered if Venner realized it.

"As long as he is tied to me, he won't be."

"And when he is no longer?" Deverell wasn't worried about Venner's ability to make objective decisions. The man was far too cold-blooded and ruthless when it came to Guild business. Even if it meant sacrificing his favourite.

Venner asked coldly, "Do you think I will let that happen?"

"I suppose not. I don't envy him."

"No one should. If I were still as human as he is, I might have some regrets."

"But you're not. Do you miss it?"

"Don't be a fool."

Deverell smiled at the answer. "I think in some ways, he's far more ruthless than we are. At least we don't feel anything when we do what we have to do. He does but it doesn't stop him."

"One day, he might go mad because of what we require of him."

"Or he might turn against us."

"As long as he cannot turn against me, that will never happen. He might try to work around my orders, but he is not capable of direct defiance."

"Even with his strong bond to the others?"

"That is the only danger." There was another one but Venner considered it minor. Sester had always had this problem throughout his life. It had never amounted to anything serious.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Sester felt like a young child as he stood before his master. A tired, shaky child who was still recovering from the effects of the punishments. Venner was studying him over steepled fingers, taking his time, allowing the silence to work.

When Sester woke on a soft bed in the infirmary, he had been shocked. Why had his master cut short the session in the punishment Chamber? Was he displeased with his failure? Sester hoped that he had something for him to do so that he could redeem himself.

Venner asked, "Tell me about the woman."

Shock nearly gave Sester away but he remained firmly in control of himself. Servalan must have been the source of information. That meant that the Guildmaster knew about Reya. He couldn't know about Kirsten yet. Sester wanted to make sure that she remained a non-topic with the Guildmaster. He did not want this complication.

He maintained a tone of surprised innocence, calling on the roguish charm that was his normal character. "Sir?"

"Charles." There was no warning or threat, but it was enough. This had always been one of Sester's constant trials. He loved women and they found him irresistible. The master had not been pleased but he had allowed a certain latitude as long as Sester didn't allow it to affect his work or objectivity.

Sester grinned apologetically. "You always know me, sir."

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing?"

Venner suppressed a smile. "That depends. Tell me what kind of trouble you've managed to fall into now."

Sester sighed with exaggerated resignation as his mind worked furiously. How much could he tell his master without making Reya someone of interest? He had to treat her as another one of his playmates. "Her name is Reya Reve."

**********

A week after the Challenges ended, the Justice crew was readying to depart for Athol. The situation on Chandar had been resolved to everyone's satisfaction. The women were safe and Chandaran society was, if not moving out of the dark ages in terms of their views of women, at least open to dialogue in improving the treatment of women.

**********

Avon’s eyes were half-lidded as he lay faced down on his bed.

Cally was almost completely healed but that unfortunately meant she noticed he had been neglecting himself shockingly (her words). At least that was her assessment of his tendency to work long hours, to substitute nutrition bars for real food, and to sleep on a chair by her bed during her recovery. He didn't agree but there was no stopping her when she had insisted on returning to his regular rehabilitation routine; something she had to forgo during the busy days of the mission on Chandar. Her tendency to nurse him when she thought he needed it was irritating and intruded on his independence but she cared about him. It would be unreasonable to fault her for that. As she pointed out, he had taken care of her when she needed it so he should understand her desire to do the same for him. Before such logic, he had reluctantly relented.

As Cally’s fingers expertly explored his body, searching out areas of tightness and pain and kneading away the stresses, Avon felt light. Each stroke and press released the burdens and tensions, allowing his busy mind to slip into a relaxed meditative mood. She was quite good at it. Calm deep breaths. Avon felt an unfamiliar peace and contentment in this simple activity. His mind wandered.

The oddity. Blake. Why did… His body tensed as memories of the tracking gallery began to surface. A twinge of pain reminded him that he should not be thinking of this now.

“Avon, try to relax.” Cally's touch became less rehabilitative and more sensual. Avon inhaled deeply as she caressed him, her hands following the curve of his back. His mind concentrated on the enjoyable sensations rather than continuing with the dark memories.

He shivered slightly as Cally’s fingers reached a particularly sensitive area. It was a pleasurable feeling and almost seemed as if she was touching him lower down. It was fortunate he was faced down. Or perhaps not. He mumbled into the pillow, “That depends on your definition of relaxation.”

Her hands wandered lower. Avon drew in a hissed breath. “That’s a good definition.”

Cally smiled and helped him to roll over.

**********

Reya rested her head on Argus’s comfortable chest, her fingers playing along the ridges of muscles.

Argus said lightly, “You know that if you keep doing that, you won’t be sleeping for awhile?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

Argus grinned and wrapped his arms around her. “Neither am I.”

An hour later, as their breathing returned to normal and their bodies shone with the evidence of their exertions, Reya said, “Quite a few of the women have decided to stay on Chandar.”

“Hmm?” His eyes were closed. “That’s good.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Mmmm….yes.” He was enjoying the warmth of her body against his. “You said…the women want to stay.”

“About half of them.”

With his eyes still closed, he nuzzled the side of her neck lightly. “Mmmm.”

Reya sighed but the light kisses turned it into a light moan. “It looks like the women will be approved as Champions. It will ensure the protection of the ones who remain.”

“You were…” His kisses trailed up to her ear, causing a ticklish sensation. “…magnificent. All of you.”

Her breathing quickened and she squeezed his firm shoulders. “Was it hard being support this time?”

Argus lifted his head and looked down at her. “It was horrible. I think I deserve a reward.”

“I just bet you do and I can guess what you have in mind.”

Argus sighed. “Another person who thinks I’m predictable.”

Reya traced his lips. “Who said you are?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re reassuring in your predictability. Everyone knows that they can depend on you.”

His eyes were soft. “How do you do that? Make everything sound much better than it is?”

“It’s the truth. And I don’t think it could have been too horrible. We saved an appropriately heroic role for you at the end.”

An ingenuous smile brightened his face. “That was fun. I’m glad that no one died. Well…other than that Thyssen ship. But I didn’t have a choice about that. They wouldn’t stop firing on the women.”

“I’m sure everyone cheered when you did it.”

Argus sighed sadly. “I suppose.”

Reya brushed her fingers through his hair. “There are some things about you that are not predictable.”

“I know something else that wouldn’t be predictable.” He whispered something in her ear.

Reya’s eyes widened. “Oh.” She started to blush. “Where did you learn that?”

“I promised not to say.”

“I think I can guess.”

“Do you…” Argus was turning a light shade of red. “…want to try it?”

**********

Corinne twisted around, trying to see what Vila was doing behind her. “Are you sure it’s supposed to be like this?”

Vila picked up the clear plastic instruction sheet. “That’s what it says here.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.” She wriggled around and adjusted the straps. “Shouldn’t we be doing this in one of the cargo bays?”

Vila eyed her critically, wondering if he had it on backwards. “Don’t worry, we won’t turn it on. Here take it off.” He helped her as she shrugged the straps off her shoulders.

“Why do we need a jetpack?”

“I saw it in one of the Chandaran shops.” Vila didn’t like most of the Chandarans but they did have interesting gadgets. “I thought…we might be able to use it. One of these days. Be prepared, I always say.”

“Do you say that?” asked Corinne curiously. It was the first time she had heard this from him.

“And its fun.” Vila put his arms through the loops and buckled himself in.

And accidentally activated the switch. He shot upwards at an alarming speed.

Corinne tried to grab him. “Vila!”

**********

One of the Tellaran doctors at the infirmary looked at Vila’s head wound. “How did this happen?”

“I…banged into a door.”

The doctor eyed him suspiciously, “And this caused an injury to the top of your head?”

“I wasn’t looking.”

Corinne blurted out, “Vila was trying to help me.”

“I see.” There was a faintly amused look on her face. “Do you feel dizzy?” She ran through a list of symptoms as she checked his eyes and coordination.

“None of those.”

She asked several questions to test his brain function. When she was satisfied, she said, “You’re fortunate. There doesn’t seem to be a concussion, just a large bruise on your head and smaller scratches and bruises on your arms that are easily taken care of.”

The doctor took out a tissue regenerator and applied it to his head. “Try to avoid ‘banging’ into doors for the next day or two and come back immediately if you feel any of the symptoms I mentioned.”

**********

Kirsten sighed heavily as she sat at a table with several of the woman. Even though they were all happy, there was a subdued air. Some of them were preparing to leave in the morning. “I’m going to miss all of you.”

Sentha said, “We could always visit each other. No one can stop us now.”

“Still, it’s not the same.” She sighed again.

“Is there something else wrong?”

Kirsten said, “I never thought you would choose to stay.”

“I’m even more surprised than you are but Chandar is my home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable anywhere else.”

Alara said, “I wouldn’t either.”

Sentha said with light sarcasm, “I thought you had another reason to stay. How is Brady, by the way?”

Alara blushed. She had been visiting the injured young man at the hospital every day. “He’s fine.”

Sentha said suggestively, “I’m sure he is.”

Alara was turning a deep shade of pink.

Kirsten was glad that Sentha didn’t realize that she hadn’t answered her question. The truth was there was another reason why she was feeling out of sorts. She missed Sester. He had an easy charm that made everything seem fun. She missed the annoyed and frustrated looks he would get when she teased him. The game they were playing with each other was exciting and made her feel alive. He inspired feelings in her that she knew were reciprocated, whenever he allowed himself to acknowledge them. She loved the challenge and mystery of him.

She was also worried. He was unusually subdued before he left and he deftly avoided all of her questions about where he was going and why. He had promised that he would return. She was going to hold him to that promise or go and find him if he didn’t come back.

Chapter Fifty

Sester sped towards Athol Prime on his observer craft. It had been a long time since his ship had been used for the purpose for it was designed. A quick long-range scout vehicle with sophisticated scanners and comm equipment. Not to mention a state-of-the-art stealth capability that made him invisible to all but close range sensors. It wasn't as good as the one Avon had developed for the Justice but it was more than adequate for his purposes.

From his ship, he could observe his puppets and ply the skills that made him one of the best manipulators in the Guild. What he had achieved on Chandar was minor compared to some of the tasks that his master had assigned him in the past. Venner had warned him that something was going on in the Athol Territories, something beyond the Shade problem they seemed to be having currently. His task was to find out what and to stop it, after it occurred. Whatever that meant. His master was more cryptic than he was most of the time.

You will find the information you need once you discover the problem.

Sester sighed. This was easier said than done if you had no idea what you were looking for. He would just have to be patient and keep his mind and senses sharp. The master always had a reason for what he did. He most likely did not want him compromised because he was going back to the crew with an Auron onboard. If he knew ahead of time, stresses might show despite his control.

He looked forward to visiting Athol, to walk its streets and absorb its atmosphere personally. It wasn't usually required for a psychostrategist in order to do his work. Their tools and information were cold things contained in computers and on strategy boards.

Sester liked the personal touch. There was something special in being with people even though he wasn't part of them; energy he needed to bring his own abilities to its full potential. He found them fun to be with even though they were supposed to be nothing more than puppets to him. This was something he carefully kept from the others in the Guild.

At first, his instructors had tried to 'cure' him of this. It had meant many sessions in the rehab clinics and the punishment chambers. Surprisingly, it had been his master who had finally allowed him this 'quirk' as a necessary requirement for his talents to be maximized. The Guildmaster had given a directive that he was to be left alone while he was doing his job.

Sester had made the most of this 'freedom' but never in an obvious way. He never wanted his master to regret his decision. The only exception had been in the area of women.

Sester smiled wryly as his fingers played absently with the console and part of his mind filtered information from the screens in front of him. He had never been able to resist where they were concerned. Women were delightful and dangerous. The ones who challenged him were wonderful treasures.

Now there were two women in his life. Reya and Kirsten. He had been surprised that during his time in the Chamber, when he needed to hold onto a warm memory, it had been Kirsten who came unbidden to his mind. There was undeniable heat with this woman and she had an irritating ability to get under his skin. She wasn't just a mystery and a challenge, she was an enigma. He had misjudged her at first, a mistake he was determined not to make again. She had a sharp intelligence and strength of will that would serve her to great advantage if she had been given the opportunities.

He was looking forward to joining the crew again. Assuming that Argus and Avon let him back onboard. Sester smiled.

**********

The crew made their final farewells and left Chandar. Marlena and her team of Tellarans remained behind to help President Trist and the women who had elected to stay. The rest would be picked up by another Tellaran ship that was on its way. Some of the women had asked to join the Tellar Union while others like Karita wanted to return home.

The Chandaran Senate was informed of the important role the women had played in revealing the presence of more aliens in their midst. Even the most stubborn of the men could not deny that it was a weakness to ignore the usefulness of the women in identifying possible alien threats. More dialogue was opening up every day.

The bolder and more sympathetic of the men were bringing their women out into the light, though never alone. It was a small step but a significant one.

The women of the Challenges were held up as heroes and Trist, in his role as both President and the Elder Champion, made sure that they were always included in Champion duties and ceremonies. He charged Dannon with their instruction on Champion protocols so that no one could say that they were lacking in any way.

Each Champion of Chandar was given a sizeable stipend and property so the women were now truly independent and no longer needed to return to their former lives. This caused great uproar at first but most of the men realized that they would have preferred not taking them back. You couldn't be the dominant male if your property was a Champion. It would make things awkward to say the least.

Alara was given the holdings that had once belonged to her man. He was dead of course, his lifeless husk had been found in one of the storage rooms. Brady had comforted her when he was released from the hospital. The two spent much time together and eventually became bonded.

Kirsten had asked to stay on with the crew and had been granted a trial period while she decided what she wanted to do with her life.

**********

The command crew was gathered on the flight deck as they discussed their new mission.

After another rehabilitation session with Cally, Avon was feeling very mellow but as he began to process information, he became his impassive self again. He asked Reya, "Did your brother tell you what the dangers of Shade were?"

Reya sat opposite. "No. He only said that it was an addictive drug and that he needed our help in finding its source."

Avon said, "It's more than just an addictive drug. It rivals Shadow in its destructiveness."

Vila was trying not to rub the slight bump that remained of the bruise on his head. The last thing he needed was to try to explain his 'door accident' to someone else. "That's all we need."

"Aptly put. I have been doing some research on the origins and spread of Shade."

Argus's face was grave. "Is the Terra Nostra behind it?" He had some bad dealings with that criminal organization.

Avon said, "No. It's a rival group to the Terra Nostra. They have been trying to seize power from the Terra Nostra for several centuries now. We've already fought one of its leaders."

Vila felt a chill. "Please don't tell me it's Sevisia."

"It is."

"I told you not to tell me that. Now, I won't be able to sleep tonight." He still remembered the crimmo leader who had made mincemeat of his opponents, literally.

Argus mused, "I had been wondering why a criminal would feel the need to have an army or to carve out a territory for itself. If they're going against the Terra Nostra…"

Vila said quickly, "Then they'd be going up against the Federation."

Argus turned to him in query. "The Federation?"

Vila said, "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what? What has this to do with the Federation? Other than they're a bunch of crooks too."

Avon said, "You're more correct than you know."

Vila said, "The Federation runs the Terra Nostra."

"What?"

Avon said, "Not quite."

Vila turned to him. "What do you mean, not quite? Isn't that what we found out on the Shadow planet?"

"I've had some time to think about this. If you remember, I found the ID of one of the President's special security force."

Argus and Reya found this all fantastic news. Reya asked, "What did you conclude?"

"The President's special security force is answerable only to the President. Like Servalan's guards, they are her own personal security force. They are not strictly Federation and do not serve wider Federation interests. They only answer to the President."

Argus mused, "They only serve the President's interests?"

"Correct. So more accurately said, it is the President who runs the Terra Nostra, not the Federation."

Vila groaned, "This is sounding better and better. Why did I wake up this morning?"

Avon remarked, "You didn't."

"What do you mean, I didn't? I'm standing right here!"

"I believe you made an appearance past noon. Although appearance would be stretching it."

"Haha. That's very funny."

Argus said, "Let me get this straight. You're saying that this criminal organization is fighting Servalan by attacking the Terra Nostra?" That might explain why Servalan had me execute Sevisia. If this organization were becoming a threat to her, then she would want them eliminated.

Vila seemed confused. "Does that mean they're on our side? I mean, anyone who’s an enemy of Servalan can't be all bad."

Reya said fiercely, "They're not on anyone's side except their own. They're harming my people."

Cally said, "Reya's right. They're both the enemy."

Vila seemed even more confused as he looked at Cally. "But Cally, didn't you support Blake when he wanted to use the Terra Nostra to fight the Federation? How would this be different?"

Cally had a troubled expression on her face. She watched Avon carefully. There were many things she wanted to say about Blake but she dared not say them for Avon’s sake. She had a long time to think on Terminal. The conclusions she came to had not been pleasant ones. If she had to choose her own path again, she would have objected more to what Blake did rather than her one feeble attempt over Star One. She would have supported Gan and Avon more in trying to stop Blake and to make him think.

"I've also had time to think, Vila. When I was on Terminal, I had nothing else to do. I think Blake lost his way at some point and we blindly followed him. I should have realized it when he wanted to work with the Terra Nostra. Nothing is worth sacrificing innocent lives no matter how noble the purpose. We cannot fight criminals by becoming criminals ourselves or we become the very things that we are trying to fight."

She said as an aside to Avon, * I’m sorry for bringing Blake up. I know memories of him are difficult for you. *

* It’s fine, Cally. I no longer have the right to criticize him but you do. *

* If we had been able to go off together, I would have liked that. *

* You mean, avoid Blake altogether? Now that would have been an interesting proposition. *

* It’s too bad that we never thought of it. *

Avon smiled. * What makes you think that I didn’t? *

Argus said, “I agree with Cally. When I left the Federation, it was because of their ruthlessness and brutality. It never sat right with me that some of the rebels did the same things. We are not going to work with this Shade organization, we’re going to destroy them.”

**********

Jenna’s heart was filled with guilt and grief as she sat watching Lelea tend to Rane. The old soldier had slipped into a coma. There wasn’t much time left but at least he was no longer in pain.

Where are you, Argus? Why aren’t you here yet?

She said in a hushed voice, “Lelea.”

The woman turned a tear-stained face towards her. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“I know that Rane didn’t want this when he…” Jenna caught herself, she had almost said, when he was still alive. “…he was still conscious but my friends are coming. They might be able to find a cure.”

Lelea’s eyes brightened with fearful hope. “Where are they?”

“They’re coming soon.” She hoped very soon. “But it won’t do any good if he’s dead when they get here.”

“Then what can we do?”

“This is the part he won’t like but we don’t have a choice. There is one way to slow down the poison. We have to give him the Shade.”

Lelea shook her head violently, “No! He didn’t want that.”

“I know he didn’t but I don’t want to see him die. Do you? You can tell him that I forced you.” Jenna took a small lined case from her jacket and took out the injector.

---------- THE END ----------

To be continued in Perceptions of Truth