The Price of Conquest

Kressa led Cody to the Cartun-al Tavern, but he balked at the top of the two short steps that led down into the common room.

"Why here?" he asked with an apprehensive glance into the dark, smoky interior.

"I've got some business to attend to." She glanced into the barroom and then back at the boy. "It's not as bad as it looks. You in some trouble here?"

He shook his head.

"All right, then. Come on."

He hesitated another moment before joining her at the foot of the entranceway. She led him to an empty booth near the back of the room and punched an order for a locally brewed Arecian ale into the auto-menu.

"What do you want to drink?" she asked.

"Same as you."

Kressa gave him a wry look. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

She doubted that. "Try again."

He scowled. "Fine. I just turned seventeen."

That was more like it. "Still not old enough in Varen."

He slouched grumpily into his seat and selected one of the sugar and stimulant-laden—but non-alcoholic—beverages instead.

"What did you do to get those two religious crazies after you?" Kressa asked once their drinks arrived.

Cody downed a quarter of his in one long gulp before answering. "They thought I was one of Cully's punks."

Kressa took a sip of her ale. "That loser's still alive?" she asked, recalling stories of the local crime-boss-wannabe from years ago.

"Yeah. He has a bunch of hireds who watch the temple cred boxes. When they fill up, he hits 'em. Just a few at a time, never enough to get anyone on him." He took another swallow of his drink. "So I shadowed Cully's boys. Whenever the boxes get emptied, the priests put a few creds in. I guess they fig no one wants to be the first to drop any, so they make it look like some sucker already has. I wait for one and hit him when he comes out." He dug one grimy hand into a trouser pocket, held up a handful of credit chips, and flashed a wily grin. "Pretty profitable, huh?"

She sneered. "Pretty reckless, I'd say. How long have you been on the streets?"

He folded his arms indignantly. "Long enough. I was torchin' until you started showing up."

"Well that's the first I've heard of the Bryant jinx, so don't blame me." She climbed to her feet. "There's someone I need to talk to. Do you think you can stay out of trouble for a few minutes?" She placed a few credits on the table. "Buy yourself another drink, if you want. And keep your hands off my beer."

"Sure. I'll be right here." He leaned forward, made her credits disappear with his right hand and used his left to deftly palm a handful of the cheap liftsticks the Cartun-al's proprietor left at the tables for his less discriminating customers.

Kressa rolled her eyes. "Cody, put those down." She took hold of his left hand and twisted it slightly to make him drop the repulsive load. "Those things'll make you sicker than a 'shooter drunk and I don't want to…" A pattern of thin white scars on the inside of his wrist made her pause.

She stared in amazement at the markings, released his hand, and glanced at the similar mark on her own wrist: three triangles, two small ones set atop a larger inverted one, burned there by a cutting laser. It was the sign of the Wolfpack, the gang she had joined after running away from the Academy. She dropped back into her seat, her head filling with memories of the San Francisco Territories and the ordeal that put the brand on her wrist.

Her eyes drifted to Cody's. He met her incredulous look. She reached across the table and pulled aside his jacket's lapel. She easily located the blood-red strip of cloth tucked into an inside pocket, the flash of crimson she'd seen during their first encounter and dismissed so casually. Red was the Wolfpack's color. Slowly, almost reverently, she drew the scrap of fabric to her.

"Gods," she whispered, "you're a Packer. What the hell are you doing on Arecia?"

"I stowed away on a liner. I wanna join the Guard."

"Dealing with people like Tyler isn't the best way to go about joining the Guard," she told him with a stern look. "Still," she smiled and returned the cloth to him, "you might get your wish. Wait here. I'll be back in a bit."

She flashed a final disbelieving glance in his direction, then made her way to the door on the tavern's back wall, opened it, and stepped through.

Two armed men stood in her path, pulse guns drawn.

Her hand drifted toward the stunner in her pocket. "Can I help you gentlemen with something?"

One of them glanced upward with a confident smirk while the other slid the door shut behind her.

She followed the confident man's gaze upward. A woman sat perched above the wall. She held a laser rifle pointed down at Kressa through a missing ceiling panel.

"B'Okhaim getting nervous in his old age?" Kressa asked, keeping her tone casual.

The confident man grinned. "You might say that."

Kressa let her hand fall to her side. "Is there any chance I can get through to see him?"

"Who should we say is asking?"

"An old friend."

The man held out a hand. "You'll need to leave the gun."

Kressa drew her stunner and passed it to him. He studied the unusual weapon for a moment, slipped it into a pocket, and motioned her ahead of him with his gun. When they arrived at the door to B'Okhaim's office, he palmed the barrier open, waved her inside, then closed and locked the door behind her.

She took a deep breath and surveyed the familiar office. The usually cluttered desktop was clean, and the room's heavy odors had disappeared. Before she could decide what the changes might mean, the door opened behind her, and a man Kressa guessed was in his mid-twenties stepped into the room. Of average height and above-average build, he had dark, curly hair, and appeared muscular without being bulky. His brown eyes assessed her in a brief glance.

"Kressa Bryant?" He shut the door behind himself.

She nodded.

"I've heard a lot about you," he said, his face and tone expressionless.

"Some of it good, I hope," she said.

"Some of it."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Keth B'Okhaim."

"Thellan's… son?" she guessed. Until this moment, she had never even considered the possibility that B'Okhaim might have children.

He nodded, then took the chair behind the desk and motioned for her to sit in the other one.

She ignored the invitation. "Where's your father?"

"Pattys got him," he said without a trace of emotion.

"You don't seem too upset about that. I didn't know Thellan had a son."

He met her eyes. "I didn't know Shaw had a daughter."

She sighed in exasperation. Who hadn't heard the story? "Okay, we're even. What happened to your father?"

"He was at the th'Maran temple when the Pattys moved in."

"What was he doing there?" Kressa could not imagine Thellan B'Okhaim falling for the th'Maran priests' message of peace and unity.

"Trying to save the th'Maran from Gaunis's men," Keth said.

Kressa gave him a sharp look. "Gaunis shut down the temple?"

Keth nodded. "His people moved in on all of the temples soon after Shaw began his attack. They killed most of the th'Maran and shuttered all the buildings."

"They killed the th'Maran?" she asked, horrified to learn that the worst of her fears had come true.

"We managed to save a few of them here in Varen."

"Where are they now?" Kressa asked.

"Safe."

Kressa waited for him to elaborate, but he remained silent. "Why would Gaunis attack the temples?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Why does he do anything? I'm sure it's part of some grand plan." He shifted in his chair and crossed his arms. "What can I do for you, Bryant?"

Kressa started to protest the abrupt change of subject but realized, for now at least, it was Keth's game; she had to play by his rules. "We—the Guard, that is, needs information."

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"What are they planning?"

"How much is that kind of information worth?" Kressa asked.

"I'm not paying you for information."

She started to frown.

"And I'm not charging you either," he continued.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and met her gaze. "I don't play my father's game, Bryant. Despite everything he's tried to teach me over the years, I still believe there's information that should be free, like information that will save people's lives or free their world." He leaned forward, his expression hard, eyes boring into Kressa's with deadly intensity. "I want to help you, Bryant, you and the Guard. I hate the Patrol. They killed my mother." He took a deep breath and sat back, his expression relaxed again. "What's the Guard planning?"

"Right now, they don't have any plans," Kressa admitted and then chose her next words carefully to be sure she did not admit to anything the Patrol couldn't already know, just in case Keth was more—or less—than he claimed. "They're down in manpower because of the th'Maran preachings and the Patty raid, and they've lost most of their weapons."

"That doesn't sound very promising. Shaw will be taking his fleet out of here in a day or two. Maybe the Guard can take advantage of that."

"Where's he going?" Kressa asked.

"If I've read the information right, I'd say he'll be heading for Vsuna to finish the job Gaunis botched."

"Any information on what Shaw's up to here on Arecia?" she asked, struggling to ignore the worried thoughts about Vsuna clamoring for attention in her mind. There was little she could do but pass the information along and hope that whatever Jonathan was planning to secure the world from a second attack worked.

"Nothing very helpful for the Guard," Keth said. "He's had his top military advisor, Aidan Terling, transferred down here to watch over things while he's gone. Terling will be working out of the government center in Cint-Istep, but the Pattys are using an old military yard near Liaj as a ground base."

Kressa recalled that Lieutenant Satra said the Patrol was taking the Guard's captured weapons, as well as many of their own supplies, to a depot near Liaj. It must be the same one—the one Halav claimed couldn't be cracked. But just because they couldn't get in to get the weapons back didn't mean they couldn't disrupt the Patrol's efforts on Arecia by attacking the base.

She smiled suddenly as she remembered the scheme Cody used to get money from the temples. She worked her way through a sudden swarm of ideas, and her smile grew. She looked at Keth, still smiling. "Would you like to do the Guard a favor?"

"I said I wanted to help."

"Good. We may need you to start some rumors to make the Pattys think the Guard is planning something big."

"Why? What are you thinking about?"

Kressa didn't answer.

Keth watched her for a moment. "Okay, you don't trust me. I understand that." He stood up suddenly. "Come with me. There's something I'd like to show you." He motioned her toward the door.

Intrigued, Kressa accompanied him into the hallway. The guard who escorted her to the office was waiting outside the door.

Keth held out a hand to him. "The lady's gun."

The guard passed the stunner to Keth. He examined it before returning it to Kressa, and then led her down the hall past his office. He halted after only a half dozen steps, laid a hand on one of the wall panels, and gave a slight push. The ceiling-high panel depressed with a quiet sigh. He slid it aside and motioned Kressa through the opening.

The chamber beyond contained a sofa, a table, and a set of chairs. Two figures sat at the table, a man and a woman with silver eyes and hair and slender, pale features. They looked up as Kressa entered.

She stopped in astonishment and looked from the two th'Maran to Keth, then back again.

"I told you they were safe." Keth stepped into the room and slid the panel shut. "Marise, Esan," he nodded first to the female and then to the male th'Maran, "this is Kressa Bryant." He scanned the room. "Where's—?"

A third th'Maran stepped through an opening across the room.

Kressa gasped. "Saunorel!"

The th'Maran woman stared at her for a moment, wide eyed. "Kressa?" A delighted grin brightened her features. She crossed the room and took Kressa's hands in hers.

"What are you doing here?" Kressa asked. "Betz said he captured you."

"He did." She released Kressa's hands. "But we have friends, even at Eminence. Sit down, I will tell you about it."

Kressa took one of the seats at the table and shifted her gaze to Keth. He stood by the door, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes tracking Saunorel's every move.

Saunorel gave him a warm look and sat in the chair beside Kressa. "After we reached Eminence, Ciroen went onto the station and found an old friend of his, an engineer called Emre. She is Admiral Shaw's as'jhal, his…" She groped for a word. "…mistress. Emre spent much time on board the admiral's dreadnought and knows the ways of Patrol equipment. She and Ciroen used the Eminence computers to help me escape."

"They controlled the computers with their minds?" Kressa asked, hoping for verification of Jonathan's theory.

Saunorel nodded. "Ciroen's mind is very strong, and Emre was once part of a shorom—a Triad. Together, they used the computers to get me a ship I could pilot to Arecia. Gaunis's men followed, but I kept ahead of them until Keth found me." She gave the young man another brief smile. "Later, Gaunis's men went to the temple and began to question my people, but they could tell the soldiers nothing about what had become of me." She glanced at Marise and Esan.

Kressa followed her gaze, but she detected no sign of emotion in their expressions.

"Gaunis's men were angry," Saunorel went on in a quiet voice. "They have a gas. It is terrible. In small doses, it strips our mind-senses. In larger doses, it renders us unconscious. Any more, and it kills. They used it against those at the temple. I felt what was happening and told Keth and Thellan. They took some of their men to the temple to help."

"Are you three the only ones to escape?" Kressa asked, appalled by Saunorel's story.

"No, there are two more, Ayala and Rafan. The others were killed or captured. I fear—"

A crash at the door interrupted Saunorel. Kressa swept to her feet, stunner drawn. A small pulse gun appeared in Keth's grasp. The door slid aside. One of the guards stood in the opening, holding Cody by the collar of his jacket. His free hand clutched the boy's pulse gun.

"I found this sneaking around the back door," the guard said in response to Keth's questioning look. "Says he's a friend of Bryant."

Keth glanced at Kressa. She nodded and dropped the stunner into her pocket.

"Let him go." Keth holstered his weapon.

The guard released his hold on Cody, and the boy grabbed for his gun. The man pulled it out of his reach.

"Give it to him," Keth ordered, "then get back to your post."

The guard reversed the weapon and handed it to the boy with a mock bow.

Cody jammed the gun into its holster, then wheeled to face Kressa. "Bryant! I…" His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the three th'Maran. "What the fuck are they?" His hand went for his gun again.

"Cody, calm down," Kressa said. "They're friends." She introduced the th'Maran and then gestured to Keth. "And that is Keth B'Okhaim, your host. Now, why don't you sit down and keep your mouth shut. You might learn something."

Cody glared and folded his arms. "I'd rather stand."

Kressa rolled her eyes and silently wished for the patience to endure Cody's antics without killing him.

"I apologize for my friend's behavior," she said to Keth. "He's fresh off the streets and hasn't learned his manners." She gave the boy a meaningful look.

Cody slunk across the room to the sofa and flung himself onto it.

Satisfied he would behave himself, Kressa looked at Keth. "Will the th'Maran be safe here?"

"As long as Gaunis's people don't find out about them, they should be."

"We will not hide," Esan said. "We will help you fight what has happened, help you win back your world. We were wrong to help the Patrol."

Beside him, Marise nodded. "We want to help."

Kressa looked at Saunorel. "What about you?"

Her gaze moved from Kressa, over the other th'Maran, and on to Keth. She met his eyes, brow knitted.

"You do what you want, Sauni," he said, his voice gentle.

Her troubled look deepened.

"But if you decide to go," he continued, "I won't be far behind."

Kressa gave him a curious look.

"I told you I wanted to help the Guard," he said. "It'll be easier if I'm with them."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate anything you can do," Kressa said. "I'll talk to the general about it as soon as I get back."

* * *

"I send you out to get information, and you want to bring in a street rat and a bunch of th'Maran?" Halav leaned back in his desk chair and released a sigh. "At least the th'Maran can help us test that gas you brought back from your little trip to Eminence."

Kressa wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. "It won't hurt them, will it?"

"Of course not. We just need to run a few tests."

"Then you'll let them join?"

"If they really want to help, sure, they can join. Right now, I'll take anyone I can get." He paused, his brow creased in thought. "The Patrol isn't going to be able to track them using some kind of mental powers, right?"

"I don't see how."

"Then if you and Keth are willing to vouch for them, they're welcome to help however they can."

It had surprised Kressa to learn that Halav not only knew of Keth B'Okhaim, but had worked with him on several occasions.

"Of course," Halav continued, "if we don't get some weapons, it won't matter how many extra people we manage to recruit."

"I think I know where we can get some," Kressa said.

"Where?"

"The Liaj depot."

"Forget it. I told you I won't help with that. We can't afford to get you killed."

"It's not what you think, Hal. We're going to blow those guns out of existence, not steal them. The Pattys will need to replace them. When they bring in the new guns, we take them before they're locked away in the depot."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That could work."

"Shaw's leaving in a couple of days. Keth thinks he's going to try to take Vsuna. I can blow the depot as soon as he's gone."

"You can blow it?" Halav asked, brows arched.

"It's my idea."

"Have you got a plan?"

"Yeah. I'll need some of your soldiers and one person I can work with personally." She gave him a quick outline of the scheme she devised on the drive back from Varen.

"It sounds like it might work," he said after considering what she suggested. "But I'm afraid the only person I'll allow you to work that closely with is me."

"Forget it, we can't risk losing you."

He gave her a long look. "I once knew this beautiful woman who tried for years to convince me that Arecia would not stop spinning and the Guard would not fall apart if I weren't around to—"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Kressa said. "I just meant you could take some time off once in a while for yourself." She glanced away and whispered, "For us."

He gave her a tender smile. "I know, and you were right. Arecia and the Guard will go on without me, but I'm not planning on putting that to the test. And I'll have you there to make sure of it. Besides, if I don't go, you don't go. We can't risk losing you either."

"But it's my plan."

"And they're my soldiers. Come on, Kressa, we work great together."

She couldn't deny that. "It'll be dangerous."

"That's why I can't let you do it without me. Westlex will kill me if I let anything happen to you."

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "All right. You and me then, as soon as Shaw leaves."