The Price of Conquest

Favors, a very much alive Devin Tyler mused. Favors are the answer. Do enough favors for people, putting them in your debt, and you can accomplish nearly anything, even set up a chance to escape a sentence of indefinite incarceration on the th'Maran homeworld of Marasyn.

Tyler had been a silent, powerless onlooker at the mock trial six months earlier wherein his Confederate captors decided on that sentence. Initially, they had been uncertain what to do with him. They did not have the evidence to prove him guilty of anything that would warrant a particularly harsh punishment, especially since their strongest case—a couple of violent run-ins with Confederate darling Kressa Bryant—existed in the hazy legal territory of warranted bounty hunting sanctioned by the United Galaxy. However, due to the nature of the accusations against him, no one wanted to return him to any Confederate or United Galaxy world. Finally, one of the high-ranking th'Maran priests suggested Tyler remain on Marasyn, under the watchful eyes—and minds—of the th'Maran.

Tyler rose from where he sat on his bed and crossed the short distance to his room's only window. He focused on the window's dark glass and studied his reflection.

It was strange what captivity could do to a man, he mused. Strange that even a captivity that allowed him the run of practically an entire planet had chiseled a hunted look onto his features, adding almost a decade to his thirty-six years.

He had the look of a trapped animal, an aspect reflected in the tightness around his mahogany eyes and the tense set of his jaw. He had attempted to soften that tension by growing a neat beard and mustache and by letting his brown hair grow out until it nearly touched his shoulders. But even if others could not see the pressure building within him, he could feel it.

He switched his gaze to the too-familiar expanse of sunlit th'Maran architecture he could see from his lofty vantage point. Occasionally, a th'Maran would walk past far below, intent on some morning chore.

If everything went as planned, this would be the last time he gazed out this window, the last time he saw the city of Sullis spread out below him, the last time he had to fight to keep his eyes from being drawn to the massive split-pyramid shape of the Fruelar, the th'Maran center of government and religion—if those two concepts were capable of separation in the th'Maran mind—where he had learned so many things about the existence of the th'Maran and the other humans spread throughout the galaxy; things he was still not sure he wanted to know.

He turned away from the window and stepped into the hallway outside his room. For a moment he considered taking the lift downstairs, and then thought better of it. His th'Maran keepers still believed him incapable of using their mentally controlled equipment, and today of all days, it would be foolish to draw attention to himself with a blatant exhibition of the abilities his time spent living amongst them had awakened. He turned right instead and headed for the stairs and his meeting with the th'Maran girl Janae, a meeting that would decide his fate.

Tyler had endured well over a month of captivity on Marasyn before deciding he had to find a way off of the planet. It took him only a day to come up with a plan, but instigating it had taken several long months and a couple of the biggest favors owed him.

One of the most difficult parts of the plan had been devising a way to handle the single th'Maran whose aid he would need for the escape attempt. He'd quickly realized that a sample of the drug effelin, the gas Admiral Gaunis's people had devised as a failsafe against the th'Maran, would be the only sure method. Getting the effelin proved nearly impossible, and in the end, it had been luck as much as planning that enabled him to do it.

Whenever Tyler heard of a transport ship's crew visiting Sullis, he would try to arrange a chance to meet them, hoping to get some word of what was happening beyond Marasyn. During one of those meetings, he got lucky; he knew a member of the crew. The man did not owe him any favors, but it had been easy enough to convince him that those who did would reward him handsomely if he were to inform them of Tyler's current location and circumstances. Three months later, a single vial of red-orange liquid gas arrived aboard a scheduled shipment of supplies and found its way into Tyler's hands.

The second crucial element in his plan had been winning over a th'Maran. Initially, that seemed a tall order. Every th'Maran on Marasyn knew who he was, and it was unlikely he could convince any of them to trust him. Once again, fate intervened to solve the problem for him.

One of the few non-th'Maran who lived permanently on Marasyn was Cody, a seventeen-year-old Terran street-tough Kressa Bryant had befriended and brought into the Guard. Tyler knew Cody from previous dealings, and try as she might, Bryant had been unable to turn the boy completely against him. When Cody realized he liked the th'Maran people, particularly one young woman named Janae, he decided to remain on Marasyn to act as go-between for visiting humans and the native th'Maran, providing the boy with a way to continue to help the Confederacy without leaving his precious Janae.

With few other non-th'Maran to talk to and without Bryant's watchful mothering, Tyler easily recalled Cody to his side. He harbored no illusions that Cody trusted him, but the boy did seem to enjoy his company, giving Tyler access to his less discriminating th'Maran girlfriend.

Tyler had carefully cultivated his relationship with Janae, not attempting to woo her away from Cody, but simply giving her another offworld friend to turn to for stories of life beyond Marasyn, something she hoped to experience herself when it became safe for all th'Maran to venture beyond their homeworld. Today, while Cody was off at the spaceport assisting with the unloading and loading of a supply transport, Tyler would be entertaining Janae.

He reached the bottom of the long stairway and stepped out into the building's lobby. It was empty. No matter, he was early, as planned. Janae would be along soon enough.

He took a seat on a padded bench near the outer door and slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers to touch the small vial of effelin, assuring himself of its presence. That vial was his salvation.

After a short wait, the lobby door opened, and Janae stepped inside. "Good morning, Devin."

Tyler smiled at her, studying her shapely form and smooth, attractive features. Few th'Maran women measured up to his standard of beauty, but Cody had not done bad for himself with this one, although to hear the boy tell it, his attraction to Janae had nothing at all to do with her looks. As far as Cody was concerned, a single meeting of his eyes with Janae's was all it took to bind him to her forever.

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Initially, Tyler had believed the boy was suffering from a severe case of young love, but since first hearing Cody tell of his fateful encounter with Janae, Tyler had heard rumors of other human-th'Maran couples who claimed similarly instantaneous and undeniable attraction.

Perhaps it was something the Om-Mar had programmed into the different human races they created to ensure compatible pairings, he mused, and then pushed the thought away, grateful to have avoided any such meeting with another human, th'Maran or otherwise.

"You're early, aren't you, Janae?" he asked, returning his attention to the present.

She nodded. Her long silver hair, gathered at the nape of her neck by an ornate clasp, bobbed with the movement of her head.

"Cody wanted to get out to the port as soon as possible." She held out a slender hand to Tyler. "He hopes he can get his work done quickly and join us after the ship leaves later this morning."

Tyler took the th'Maran's hand and allowed her to help him to his feet.

"That would be nice," he said, careful to speak only after he released her hand. Th'Maran could only tell if someone was trying to deceive them by concentrating on their surface emotions—something Tyler could detect with his newfound psi powers—but it was best to be safe. "Maybe we could go out to the port to meet him."

Janae's frown looked out of place on her delicate features. "You know you are not allowed at the port."

"Well, certainly not by myself." Tyler motioned her toward the door. She opened it with a mental command, and he followed her outside. "But I'd be with you. We could surprise Cody."

She looked at him as they started down the walkway. "Maybe that would be all right, but…" She shook her head.

"Do you really think I'd try anything?" He put a hint of hurt in his tone, playing on the natural gentleness of the th'Maran as a race and the youthful naiveté of Janae in particular. "Even if I did, there'd be a dozen of your people in shouting distance, and even more in range of your mind."

Janae stopped walking and looked up at him, her brow furrowed and her silver eyes sad. "Devin, why are you doing this? Why do you—?"

"Never mind." He glanced away. "Forget I said anything. Cody can find us later."

"No, wait." She put a hand on his arm. "You're right. You'll be with me. You couldn't do anything."

He smiled at her, brushed a stray wisp of hair from one beautiful, trusting eye and tucked it behind her ear. "I wouldn't try."

* * *

The Sullis spaceport had been greatly expanded in the months since Marasyn officially became a Confederate world. With the additions designed and built by non-th'Maran, the port could have been on nearly any world; only the backdrop of Sullis's strange architecture and the unnatural quiet suggested otherwise.

Spaceports were supposed to be loud, crowded, bustling places, with ships and people coming and going nonstop. The Sullis port would be considered busy if it received one ship a week. But there was a ship there now, a large, new model bulk freighter with the type of drive that could reach Marasyn's distant location within a reasonable amount of time, and the insignia of an Arecian shipping company displayed on its side.

So I'll be going to Arecia, Tyler thought as he approached the port with Janae. Not that he expected the ship to be from anywhere else. Marasyn was carefully protected real estate; most goods and people who came here were filtered through Arecia, the headquarter planet for the Confederacy.

Arecia would be a good destination, Tyler decided. Maybe even better than good if he could trust a certain port owner to have taken care of his ship and not auctioned it off to pay for the hangar space or allowed the Confederacy to impound it. Yet even if his ship were no longer available, he knew of several United Galaxy contacts on Arecia. He felt confident at least one of them would have survived the upheaval of the past months.

They reached the port security gate. Janae placed her hand on the scanplate and closed her eyes briefly to concentrate on the locking mechanism. Unlike most of the devices on Marasyn, which required only the briefest touch of a psi-gifted mind to activate, the port gate needed either the discipline of a th'Maran mind or an electronic device to unlock it, making the port grounds one of the few places on the planet Tyler could not go unaided.

The gate opened and they stepped through.

"Where do you think Cody is now?" Tyler asked.

"He should be out by the ship." Janae peered across the hundred-meter stretch of pad that separated them from the transport. "I can't see him from here. He might be in the bay."

"Let's not bother him yet. We can wait for him by the warehouses." Tyler headed toward the pair of wide, squat buildings that served as storehouses for the goods the visiting ships transported.

Janae followed without taking her eyes from the people swarming around the ship.

Tyler studied the scene, as well, fixing in his mind the location of the stacks of shipping crates, noting which were being loaded onto the transport and which were being delivered to the warehouses by th'Maran ground vehicles.

As they moved closer to the storage buildings, he subtly adjusted their route toward the one that was being used for today's shipments, and timed their arrival so they reached the warehouse just after the vehicle that was transporting the goods drove away.

He kept his stride idle but confident, dipped a hand into his pocket, and peered into the dim building through the wide doorway. He saw no one inside.

Janae started to question him as he stepped into the building, but he brought his hand out of his pocket, held the vial of effelin near her face, and squeezed the breakpoint. The red-orange fluid coalesced almost instantly into a barely visible gas.

Janae gasped, preparing to cry out, but succeeded only in breathing in a lungful of the debilitating gas. Her eyes widened as the drug went to work, stripping her psi abilities.

Careful to avoid breathing any of the gas himself on the chance that it might disrupt his own burgeoning mental abilities, Tyler clamped a hand over Janae's mouth and dragged her deep into the shadows of the building. He continued to hold the vial under her nose, forcing her to take in the last of the effelin. Her breathing became increasingly shallow, and then ceased altogether. He dropped the remains of the vial into his pocket and listened carefully.

No alarm sounded, no feet pounded toward the warehouse. The effelin had done its job, preventing Janae from calling for help with her mind.

He scooped the girl's body easily into his arms and gave it a regretful look. If only there'd been some way to spare her—

He cut the thought short. He was barely a teenager when he'd been forced to learn that regretful actions were often the best route to the successful conclusion of any task. Dwelling on such actions and their aftermath was pointless.

He carried Janae's body to a collection of damaged crates awaiting disposal. He opened one of them, placed her body carefully inside, and closed the lid, certain it would not be discovered before he regained his freedom.

With the most perilous part of his plan complete, Tyler glanced toward the warehouse entrance. He smiled. His timing had been perfect; the loader was just pulling up. He slipped into the shadows at the rear of the building to wait.

Once the vehicle pulled away with its next load, he would hide inside one of the crates awaiting delivery to the transport, stow away on the ship, and slip out once it landed on Arecia.

With any luck, he'd find someone there who owed him a favor.