The Starfarer Page 9

  Cage!

  Panic roused her to more awareness. Sila gazed in horror at the bars that imprisoned her. Around her lay strewn females and males of different races, seemingly comatose — all captives in a gigantic pen. The dim lighting made it difficult to discern details. Shivers wracked her body; the biting cold almost numbing her. She glanced down at herself, stunned to discover that only two tiny scraps of material covered her — no protection against the freezing conditions. The act of craning her head to look down seemed to tighten a noose around her neck. Sila frowned. With an effort, she lifted a hand to feel it — a broad band clasped her neck to enclose it tightly. What could it be, she wondered hazily? She glanced sideways at the prone figure beside her. The female lay awkwardly against the bars, a thick collar around her neck. Sila opened her mouth to scream but all that came out was a hoarse, inaudible mumble. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue heavy as she desperately attempted to call for help.

  O Goddess.

  Help me, O Goddess!

  Eventually, exhausted and woozy, Sila slumped against the bars. For the next few hours, she drifted in and out of consciousness, waking up in periodic bursts to make frantic calls to the Goddess, not completely aware of her surroundings. Until a familiar voice interrupted her silent prayers.

  Sseela?

  O Goddess! Watch over me, please.

  Sseela. Where are you?

  First Commander? No, no, no, I’m hallucinating. Must stop this. O Goddess, help me.

  Sseela, this is the First Commander. Where are you, Sseela?

  No. No hallucinations! O Goddess, keep my wits about me.

  Sseela, listen to me! You sent a message to the First Commander. Asking for my help. Remember?

  Message? help?

  Yes! You said slavers had come to your world.

  Slavers … O Goddess!

  Sila came awake abruptly, as his words prompted memories to flash by in rapid succession. The traders on Terra Agri 5. Her conversation with Elder Arturo. Mind-reading the Keeyori while attempting to drown out the others. Her despair and horror at what the traders intended for them. The visit to the unkempt ship with Elder Arturo. Sneaking the First Commander’s device onto the ship and hoping fervently for her message to get through. A distress call asking for the First Commander’s assistance!

  First Commander?

  There was wonderment in Sila. She was both hopeful and afraid at the same time. Afraid that he was a figment of her imagination, after six long months. And hopeful that her distress call had reached him. If it had, he would answer it — that she knew.

  I am here, Sseela. I received your message. Do you know where you are?

  His calm voice came through clearly, soothing and reassuring. It steadied her, encouraging Sila to break through the fog of fear, shock and confusion shrouding her.

  Some … some kind of cage.

  Cage! They put you in a cage?

  Sila sensed his rage through their connection of the mind. His Alliance Standard had improved, she mused in her befuddled state. She tried to focus on his words and the questions he asked her.

  Are you on a starship?

  Not sure. I was on a ship but … that was a long time ago, I think. I … cannot remember much.

  Do not worry, Sseela. Look around you. What do you see?

  It is very dark. There are others in here with me. Bars hold us in. It looks like a cage.

  Are you able to move freely?

  I’m sleepy and sick. It is hard to move and the collar around my neck hurts when I do.

  Collar?

  Yes, like the one on the others.

  Is it attached to anything?

  I don’t think so. It is cold in here. Someone has taken away my clothes.

  Taken away clothes?

  They have put me in very skimpy attire. It is freezing. My teeth are chattering.

  Skimpy … I don’t understand?

  Small … barely covering me.

  Aah, I understand. Hold on, Sseela. I am coming for you.

  Hurry, First Commander!

  t

  On the Trade Sphere, the Star Captain turned to his companion. Zoran’s eyes searched the levels below from where they stood on the top ring of the station. The Hadari’Kor ship Juntafeyore had docked on Keeyor 9 a half hour before. Its Captain had walked them to this vantage point on the topmost ring of the spherical station, explaining that it had the best view of the Trade Sphere. The Ur’quay Captain, disguised in the ubiquitous enveloping robe with hood pulled low over his face, had simply followed his companion’s lead.

  “She is here” the Ur’quay male declared.

  Zoran’s eyes snapped from an interesting spectacle a few rings below to his companion.

  “The Terran. She is here” the Ur’quay Captain explained.

  The mercenary looked incredulous. “On the station?”

  “Or one of the starships docked here.” The Star Captain was confident.

  Zoran contemplated the Ur’quay Captain, his expression carefully neutral though his eyes posed questions.

  “I will answer your questions, Zoran. For now, I am confident that she is here.”

  The Hadari’Kor male looked thoughtful. “Hmm, if they’ve sold her to the slavers, she’s on the station. Otherwise, she’ll be on their ship.”

  He shot a glance at his Ur’quay counterpart. “The slavers are restricted to the lowest ring of the station” Zoran explained grimly. “I’ll ask around about any new females bought from Keeyori.”

  The Ur’quay Captain directed a searching glance at Zoran. “You said that you’ve been here before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you not attract attention and raise suspicions with your sudden interest in slaves? I would hazard a guess that you’ve made your feelings about the slavers on this station clear before.”

  “Crystal” Zoran said brusquely.

  The Star Captain studied his companion. “Let me get the information, Captain. No one knows me here. I can pose as a customer without raising any eyebrows.”

  “You’re right” Zoran capitulated. His inexplicable interest in slavers would definitely attract attention on the station. Attention they could ill afford right now. “Any Hadari’Kor hobnobbing with slavers will raise eyebrows here. We are notorious for our fierce opposition to slavery.”

  “Plus, you look like a male intent on hiding your identity.” Zoran gestured at the robe the Ur’quay Captain wore. “You’ll fit right in with all the other shady customers that visit slavers, Star Captain.”

  Zh’hir looked amused, a subtle quirk of his lips that acknowledged the truth of the mercenary’s words.

  “Offer bribes liberally — it usually opens doors. Here’s some currency that will do the trick.” Zoran dug some notes from a pocket to hold them out. “Be careful, Star Captain, and keep your communicator close.”

  “Thank you.” The Star Captain pocketed the currency with gratitude. The mercenary was perceptive enough to know that his companion had no currency that would pass muster here. Usually that wasn’t a significant problem since the Ur’quay had valuable goods to barter with. Unfortunately, that avenue wasn’t open to them either since they were attempting to fly under the radar to honor the Alliance Commander’s wishes.

  To Zh’hir, the Hadari’Kor had been a familiar name from his perusal of the accounts his ancestors had left behind of Sector Araloka. But after the Hadari’Kor proposal for the Alliance to engage with the Budheya with an eye to eventually opening a second front in the war, he had been impressed enough to search through the Ur’quay archives for more details on the nomadic mercenaries. The old reports made it clear that the Ur’quay had once forged ties with many worlds and races in Sector Araloka. His ancestors had rated the Budheya as the most accomplished civilization in this corner of the galaxy — technologically advanced, spiritually inclined, and with a thirst for knowledge and exploration that had resounded with the starfaring Ur’quay. They had found the Iovac to be a very impressive r
ace, documented the Tesakians as having a reputation for creating life-like artificial lifeforms and talked of the mysterious Xy’Lantians who built beautiful omni-structures under their oceans. There had also been glowing references to other civilizations, many now members of the Kampuchan Alliance, but it was the Hadari’Kor that a warrior race like the Ur’quay had felt the most affinity with. Ferocious, independent-minded, nomadic warriors, the Hadari’Kor refused to pledge allegiance to anyone, adhering to their strict code of conduct to fight across the stars as mercenaries for hire. Explorers, warriors, starfarers — the Ur’quay of yore had found much to admire in the Hadari’Kor.

  “Zh’hir.” The Ur’quay male emphasized the zh and h with a soft hiss. “My name. Please use it, Zoran of Hadari’Kor.”

  “Zh’hir” the mercenary tested it out on his tongue. “While you’re otherwise engaged, I’ll check on Keeyori ships docked here.”

  “Good luck, Zoran. I will meet you here in two hours.”

  With a swish of his robes, the Star Captain strode away, making for the lower rings of the Trade Sphere.

  t

  Zh’hir glanced around the crowded establishment. At the center was a raised platform with some makeshift seats around it, guarded by a few tough-looking males in uniform. The customers, from diverse worlds, milled about in haphazard fashion. Many looked shifty, clearly in disguise and some looked nervous. A few waited patiently on seats around the platform, while others engaged in conversation with the guards, but most focused their attention on the display screen above the platform. He mused with dry amusement that Zoran had been right. Here, he blended in perfectly — no one gave him a second glance despite the voluminous cloak enveloping him.

  The Star Captain glanced at the rapidly scrolling screen. To his limited knowledge, it looked like Alliance Standard though he couldn’t be sure. The slavers used the official language of the Alliance to conduct business. He wondered what the Alliance would make of it. But it was a lucky break for him. He could forgo his translator and use his broken but functional Alliance Standard. An unexpected side-effect of the war — he mused at the irony of it. Large swaths of space-farers in the sector were being forced by the circumstances to choose between Alliance Standard and Ketar. Clearly, Alliance Standard was winning as the language of choice for conducting business on neutral worlds.

  The gold eyes searched the area, cataloguing the details. To one side of the platform was a curtained doorway, guarded by one male. The Star Captain sidled up to the guard, who looked decidedly bored.

  “Cannot read Alliance Standard” Zh’hir remarked to the guard, discreetly slipping him a note.

  The guard accepted the currency to shoot him a puzzled glance.

  The Ur’quay male gestured at the display screen above the platform.

  “Oh, that” the guard remarked disinterestedly. “The Bitarsa Conglomerate will hold an auction in two hours.”

  “Bitarsa?”

  “One of three slaver businesses with the license to operate on Keeyor 9.”

  The Star Captain directed a curious glance at the doorway behind the guard, not bothering to hide his interest.

  “What are you looking to buy?” the guard inquired, his boredom briefly punctuated by the prospect of making money off a clueless customer.

  Zh’hir shot a significant glance at the currency in the guard’s hands. “There is more for a look at what is on offer.”

  A sly expression flashed in the guard’s eyes, banishing the disinterest from before. He cast a glance around to gauge the crowd in the establishment. The Star Captain selected two of the smaller-sized notes, suspecting them to be higher denomination, from the bundle of currency Zoran had generously provided him.

  “A quick look” he emphasized persuasively, holding out the notes to the guard.

  “Come” the guard invited him, quickly pocketing the currency. “I can only show you what goes on sale at the next auction.”

  He whisked the Ur’quay male behind the curtained doorway after another quick glance around the area. The chamber beyond it was pitch dark, the only light seeping through the heavy curtains over the doorway they’d walked through. The Star Captain allowed his night eyes to come alive. The guard unhooked a tiny torch with a powerful beam from the belt at his hip to swing it around. Zh’hir ignored the guard, his gaze searching. Two large metal cages with bars too narrow for adults to pass through occupied the room. He squinted at what looked like a gate but could discern no locking mechanism. Within the bars lay captives in various stages of undress and somnolence. A few winced or moaned softly as the beam of torchlight passed over them, but most remained unaware.

  Zh’hir worked to bury his fury and disgust at the appalling mistreatment of sentient beings.

  “That one.” He gestured into the cage. “I want a closer look at her.”

  The guard swung his torch to a young female. She leaned against the bars with her eyes closed and hands braced against the dirty floor. A broad collar encircled her neck. Shivers wracked her thin skimpily attired body.

  “What is that around her neck?” Zh’hir inquired.

  “Shock collar.” The guard patted an oblong device hitched onto his belt with his free hand. “To keep them in check if they try to run.”

  “Do many try to run?”

  The guard shrugged. “They’re drugged to make things easy until the auction. The shock collar is taken off after they’re sold.”

  The Ur’quay male cocked his head. “You work for Bitarsa?”

  “No, my company just guards the goods until they’re sold. These are up for auction next but there are more.” He waved his hand in the general direction of another door Zh’hir could see the outline of with his night eyes.

  “You done?” the guard asked. “I can’t leave my post for too long.”

  “I’m done” the Star Captain said briefly.

  He made an attempt to connect with Sila on the thought plane. He had already broken Ur’quay law by initiating a conversation with her. At this point, Zh’hir was way past being careful.

  Sseela. Are you awake, Sseela?

  No response greeted him as he accompanied the guard back outside, to silently make his way up the rings.

  The Hadari’Kor Captain waited for him at the rendezvous.

  “Only two Keeyori ships docked here in the past twenty hours. One departed after two hours but the other ship is still here” the mercenary informed him as they made for the exit sensors.

  When they had first docked at the Trade Sphere, Zoran had been taken aback by the Ur’quay Captain’s knowledge of the station’s auto sensors that controlled all entry and exit. And had approved of the Star Captain’s clever move to acquire ID tags marking the Ur’quay as a member of a space-faring species known to be xenophobic and thus rarely seen on stations. Zoran was impressed by the Ur’quay male’s circumvention of the Trade Sphere’s requirements without exposing his true identity or arousing any suspicions. As for the Star Captain, he had cleverly used the information gleaned from his starfaring ancestors’ accounts of Sector Araloka.

  Once on the Juntafeyore, Zh’hir discarded his all-encompassing robe. He had free rein on this ship. The Hadari’Kor Captain had assured him that his mercs could be trusted to keep his presence aboard a secret. Zoran escorted him to a largish room with a table and seats around it. The Star Captain placed his robe on a seat and glanced at his companion.

  Zoran, who knew that the Ur’quay warrior preferred to stand, parked himself by a window that provided a view of the busy dock outside.

  “What have you discovered?” he asked.

  “I bribed one of the guards with the currency you gave me, Zoran. He took me to a chamber with cages — slaves they intend to auction off in an hour.”

  “The slaver hold” Zoran said evenly.

  “Yes. They are drugged to make them more amenable and held in large cages. They have something called a shock collar around their necks. I am not sure what that is.”

  Zoran st
irred restlessly by the window. “It’s used to immobilize by sending an electric current through the collar to cause the person wearing it a lot of pain.”

  Appalled silence descended on the room. While the Star Captain tried to come to terms with the use of such a barbaric device, Zoran grappled with memories of rushing to the aid of another young female on this very station. How he had been just a little late to the scene where she had fought desperately to land some telling blows on a Ketaari commander twice her weight and size until the male had used her prison pain-implant to bring her to her knees with a click of his finger. Zoran roused himself back to the present with a little shake and a reminder. Saakshi was safe on an Alliance station and he had promised himself that he would stay out of her life for a little while.

  “The collar can be neutralized” Zoran remarked, his eyes on the busy dock outside. “If we jam short-range communications on certain frequencies, the shock collar will never receive the command to electrocute from its control device.”

  The Ur’quay’s exotic gold eyes stared unblinkingly at his counterpart. “What about the cage? I could discern no locking mechanism.”

  “A closer look is warranted but my guess is an electronic lock controlled by a remote device the guards have access to.”

  Zoran, who suspected that the Star Captain’s pursuit of the Terran captive was more involved than the Ur’quay had let on, kept his gaze on the view outside.

  “Is she in the hold?” he asked. Every bit of information they dug up increased their chances of breaking her out, but otherwise Zoran considered any prior acquaintance the Star Captain’s personal business.

  “I could not confirm it” the Star Captain admitted.

  So, the Ur’quay male knew the Terran, at least by sight, Zoran mused. As he had suspected.

  “That should be our next move” he said easily. “It will decide the plan we come up with.”

  There was a short pause. Zoran sensed the other male’s regard but kept his own eyes studiously on the activity in the docking ports.

  “Sseela” the Ur’quay Captain announced in his guttural tones. “Her name is Sseela.”