Dawn of a New Age (22 page)

2.7.2136

1722

Brentax III

Brentacchia Prison Cell A-22

H
E was cold.  Not the numbing cold of space, but a dry spiritless cold that ate through to his soul.  His eyes were closed.  He felt little beyond the cold.  Except for the steel, the cold, hard steel that bound his wrists and ankles.  That he could feel.  The steel pressed into his flesh, not enough for him to wince, but enough for him to know they were there.

He moaned softly, his cry quiet in the cold of the prison cell.  There was no return sound… it appeared he was alone in the cell.

Great,
he thought. 
What am I doing here?  I should never have gone to check on G’Kiron.

The Star League officer slowly opened his eyes.  The light that assailed his eyes, although not bright in reality, was too bright for him.  He winced and turned his head away from the light.

After his eyes adjusted, he examined his cell.  The walls were made of apparently solid granite.  He was chained to the wall with large wrought iron chains.  He tested each manacle, and found that they were quite solidly attached to the wall.

Damn,
he cursed to himself.

Sighing, he looked down at himself.  They hadn’t beaten him too badly before chaining him.  The biggest pain still came from the stun blast.  Surprisingly, he still had his energy bow.  He wondered how the Brentax had missed taking that.  His sword was gone, as was his laser.  He wondered how thorough a job the Brentax did searching him.

“K’Alan?” a weak voice from the cell across the corridor called.  “You are finally awake?”

“Chancellor G’Kiron,” K’Alan said, his voice no more than a rough rasp.  “Are you all right, sir?”

“No,” came the reply.  “It is immaterial, however.  What matters is that you must escape.”

“Yes,” K’Alan said, his voice slowly returning.  “That is the first duty of a prisoner.  Is escape from this prison possible?”

There was a very long pronounced pause before G’Kiron’s answer.

“It is possible,” the old Brentax croaked.  “However, in the history of Brentacchia Prison, no escape attempt has ever been successful.”

“Great,” K’Alan sighed.  “Escape from a prison that’s never been escaped from.  Well, there’s supposedly a first time for everything.”

“You must succeed.  There is too much riding on you and young Colonel Bonetti for the two of you to fail.”

“More than likely, Mario’s continuing with the mission as we speak,” K’Alan said.  “I can only hope he’s not stupid enough to try to rescue me before bringing M’Bek Tarmos to the Star League.”

“He would leave you behind?” G’Kiron said, his voice sounding very surprised.

“Yes.  He was so ordered.  The mission is far more important than either his or my life singularly.”  K’Alan smiled wryly.  “By myself, I’m expendable.  If I were to die here, then my only regret is that I didn’t get to know my son better.”

“How old is your son?  Why do you not know him?  For a father to not know his son is inhuman.”

“He was born about ten years ago,” K’Alan said.  He rolled his shoulders, trying to get some feeling back into his arms.  “Because I was out among the stars, my wife and my sister decided that it would be best to not tell me until I was there to hear the news in person.  So I didn’t find out about my son until he was ten.”

“I am sorry, K’Alan.  A father should know his son.”

“The worst part is that he resents me for not being a part of his life,” he closed his eyes against the pain, this time emotional.  “Gods know I wish I had been.”

“There is nothing you can do to change the past, my friend,” G’Kiron sighed.  “However, you always have the future.  Get out of this prison and go home to your family.”  There were sounds of heavy booted feet coming from far down the hallway.  “Shhhh.  Guards.”

K’Alan nodded, even though he knew Chancellor G’Kiron couldn’t see him from the angle he was at.  The footsteps in the hall got closer.  They stopped near what, K’Alan assumed, was G’Kiron’s cell.

“Ah, G’Kiron,” the sneering voice of the guard said.  “I will look with joy on your execution.”

“Execute me if you must, but let the Duterian go.  He has done nothing,” G’Kiron said.

“He is a war criminal.  He too will be executed.”  The guard’s voice got perhaps a little more of a sneer as he added, “After he is tortured of course.”

“What would you have him do, D’Boran?  The young man watched his homeworld be destroyed.”

“Yes, and a glorious battle that was,” the guard named D’Boran sneered.  “I cheered as the pathetic Star League Defense Force futilely tried to repel us.  Ah, yes.  It was glorious.  My only regret is that I was not able to bed their ruler.  I understand she is a beautiful specimen of her species.  Of course, I would have slit her throat immediately afterwards.”

A low growl began in K’Alan’s throat.  The captain charged suddenly, but the chains held him fast.  The guard did a double take, startled by the fierce charge of the prisoner.  He recovered quickly when he realized that the captive posed no threat.  He laughed as he swaggered over to stand in from of K’Alan’s cell.

“You know that woman?” the guard sneered at him, knowing there was nothing the prisoner could do.  “Well, then.  I really wish I had taken her to my bed.  I would love to tell you how much she would have squealed, begged and pleaded with me as I had my way with her.  It would be most satisfying.”

“If you had had your way with her,” K’Alan began, his voice soft and cold with danger.  “I would have lead a massive assault on Brentax III.  You would not be standing there having this pleasant conversation with me.  I would have ripped out your heart and fed it to you.”

“Such a pleasant thought,” D’Boran sneered again.  K’Alan began to think that the sneer was this guard’s permanent expression.  “I would love to continue this pleasant conversation, but I’m afraid I cannot.  I have orders to bring you to… our torturer.  I’m afraid I can’t have you awake for the trip.”

K’Alan barely had time to realize that a blaster rifle was being raised before he fell unconscious again.

2.1.2136

1731

SLS White Knight

The Bridge.

T
HE bridge was a bustle of nervous energy.  Everyone was at their post, doing their best to look busy, although there was little more that could be done.  There was nothing to do until the shuttle reported in.

Erin Sykes sat in the executive officer’s chair, drumming her fingers on the armrest impatiently.  She sighed to herself.  She’d hoped to have heard from the Captain by now.  The waiting was driving her crazy.

“Kath, any word?” the commander asked for the umpteenth time.

“Not yet.  I’ll let you know as soon as they call in,” the pretty Angelian smiled.

“Masha, any indication of Brentax activity?”

“Not since that Duhari class cruiser went through, Commander.”

“Good.  Keep an eye on the—“

“Commander, incoming communication from the Shuttle Kiarin!” Kath shouted.  “Audio only.”

“Patch it through, Kath.”

“Commander Sykes, this is Colonel Bonetti.”

“Good to hear from you, Colonel,” the commander sighed with relief.  “Status report.”

“Supreme Commander M’Bek Tarmos is sitting right next to me.  We’ve got a Duhari class heavy cruiser on our tail.  We’d appreciate it if you met us halfway to your location.”

“Consider it done.  Let me speak to Captain Bryce.”

“I’m afraid he isn’t here.  He was captured.  I’d like to bring Lancer squad back to Brentax III as soon as I land.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Colonel.  We’re under orders to make for the Gamma Epsilon station immediately upon your landing”

“But we can’t just leave the Captain there, Commander!”

“We have no choice, Mario,” Erin sighed.  She didn’t want to give the order any more than Mario wanted to hear it.  “In the long run, he’s expendable.  Captain Bryce would tell you the exact same thing.  As soon as we complete the mission, we’ll see about mounting a rescue mission.”

“Understood,” Mario said, his voice bitter.  “Better wait and let me tell Kit.”

“Just get your tail back here in one piece, Colonel.”

“I intend to,” the morale officer said.  “Colonel Bonetti out.”

Erin sighed once more.  It was going to be a long week.

2.7.2136

1742

SLS White Knight

The City

K’Itea and Elam were sitting in the park in the middle of the city.  K’Itea wore a worried expression on her face, and Elam was leaning against her, his eyes closed.  K’Itea was stroking his hair gently, the slow motions serving to calm the High Gentlewoman somewhat.

Where is K’Alan?
she wondered to herself. 
Is he OK?  Will he be coming home soon?

Her thoughts flew through her mind fast and furiously.  She worried about her husband.  She’d had trouble sleeping since he left on this mission.  And she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in trouble.  And she knew that there wasn’t much she could do but sit and worry.  S’Era was no comfort.  She was too wrapped up in her own concerns about Mario.

The fact that the hot-headed Colonel Bonetti was with her husband gave K’Itea some comfort.  She knew that Mario cared about K’Alan almost as much as she did.  She knew that he’d keep her husband safe. 
At least,
she told herself,
K’Alan had taken someone he could count on for backup.

She pulled out of her thoughts with a start, realizing that her son was looking at her.

“You went away for a moment,” Elam said.  “I was just wondering if you were all right.”

“Yes, Elam,” K’Itea said.  “I’m fine.  I’m just worrying about your father.”

“When will he be back?”

“He should be back in a couple days.”  K’Itea let a tear roll down her face.  “Not soon enough,” she added.

“I miss him,” the young man said.  It was a statement that K’Itea had not been expecting, but one that she found very welcome.

K’Itea looked down at her son and smiled.  She hugged him close, ruffling his hair.

2.7.2136

1748

Gamma Epsilon Station

Admiral Bonetti’s Office.

The view outside Admiral Bonetti’s office window never changed.  It was an unblemished view of the stars.  The planet that the Gamma Epsilon station orbited was on the other side.  John found the stars to be eternally, hauntingly beautiful.

John was watching a Star League starship prepare to dock with the station.  For the umpteenth time, he wished he were still out there in command of a Star League ship.

“Admiral?” Anne Riker prodded as she entered the office.

"The problem with this view, Sergeant,” John said, “is that the stars don’t move.  That’s the problem with flying a desk instead of a ship.  The stars stay constant, unmoving.  It’s disconcertingly still.”

“Sir, there’s a tight beam communication for you.”  The young sergeant smiled slightly.  “It’s from Commander Sykes.”

“Patch it through, Sergeant,” John said as he quickly returned to his desk.

“Right away, sir.”

The young sergeant turned and left the office.  Moments later, Erin Sykes appeared on the holo.

“Admiral Bonetti, we just received word from your son,” Erin began without preamble.

“Yes, Commander?”

“They have successfully extracted M’Bek Tarmos.  I’m ordering the White Knight into Brentax space to retrieve them.  They picked up a tail.” Erin smiled.

“Good!  As soon as they land, make your best speed to the Gamma Epsilon station.”

“Yes, sir.  As soon as the shuttle lands, we’ll make our best speed.”  She paused before continuing.  “There is a problem, sir.”

“Problem?  What problem?”

“It seems that Captain Bryce is not on the shuttle.  Mario has requested leading a rescue mission.  I had no choice but to deny his request.”

“Bad news indeed.  You did the right thing.  Until Captain Bryce can be returned, you have command of Gamma Strike. Commander.”

“Understood, sir.”

“And good work to your team, Commander.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

The holo faded and John sighed to himself.

What else can go wrong?
he thought.

2.7.2136

1802

SLS White Knight

Soran’s Bar

S’Era Bryce had been drinking heavily for over two hours.  Well, heavily for her at any rate.  She was actually only on her third drink.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Soran asked as he continued to wipe down the bar.  “I’ve never seen you drink so much before.”

S’Era took a big gulp of her drink and sighed.

“I’m worried about him.  I’m afraid he’s gotten himself in some major trouble this time,” the young woman said.

“Your brother?”

“No.  K’Alan can take care of himself.  It’s that hot head Mario I’m worried about.

“You’re worried about Mario,” Soran laughed.  Seeing the pained look in the young woman’s eyes, Soran stopped laughing and looked down at the bar he was still polishing.  “In the fifteen or so years I’ve known Mario, I’ve never known him to ever get into a situation where he was over his head.  As difficult as this mission sounds, this was just a walk in the park to him.”

“Still, I’m worried.  I love him, Soran.”  A tear ran down her cheek.  “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know you do, S’Era.”  The bartender’s voice was soft and tender.  “The best thing you can do for yourself is to look after your sister-in-law and your nephew for your brother.  He needs you to be there for them.”

“You’re right, of course,” she sniffled.  She looked at her glass with distaste.  “I don’t suppose you have something for the hangover I know I’m going to have tomorrow?”

“Coffee,” Soran chuckled.  “I start serving coffee at 0700.”