So this was the human that had caused so much trouble for Durak, frustrating his numerous attempts to capture the being called Orna. Traug considered the holographic recording of the man that sat in the waste facility’s isolation cell, from the comfort of the unoccupied executive administrator’s office he had taken as his own for the time being, his employers requesting that he personally and quietly deal with this situation. They would need it to go away before any unfavorable public attention was drawn to this . . .
particular
area of their operation.
And the situation
was
an intriguing one at that. As Orna had continued to elude the High Commander, and the mysterious, and almost mythological, Rai Chi had arrived to, in a sense,
oversee
Durak’s progress, Traug had found himself becoming more and more interested in both the outcome and the
true
motives behind the Sect’s interest in the strange little being. Traug was not so foolish as to dismiss her based on something as superficial as her physical stature of course. He was his own best example of the error in that sort of reasoning, taking pride in the fact that his appearance often put his opponents off balance to the point that they tended to underestimate him. A mistake which gave him a tactical edge. No, there was definitely something more to this Orna than met the eye, and he intended to discover what that was, and then exploit it to his own profitable ends.
Traug saw another, more immediate, opportunity on the monitor before him. The bounty hunter had sustained an injury during his break in attempt, the mechanical medic sent in to examine him reporting that the wound had inexplicably healed of its own accord. The same thing had occurred during his first encounter with the human, when Durak had ordered him to be shot. He had been thought dead, but as everyone had come to be aware, he was not, and now too seemed to bear no visible mark of the blast that should have taken his life. The man obviously had some kind of strange healing ability, a trait in and of itself that presented countless possibilities for research and development applications for his employers, all of them profitable, so long as they were able to retain possession of the human after Durak was done with him. That was, of course, also dependent on whether or not there would be anything
left
of him to barter for. Traug supposed he would have to wait and see.
The wait would not be a long one. The alert chime at his desk’s control terminal signaled the prompt arrival of his guests.
“The Rai Chi have arrived, sir,” Praxis commented after a few moments.
“Thank you, Praxis,” he replied to his personal mech, having forgotten he was waiting nearby, as he always was. “I am aware.” Under normal circumstances, he may have delayed his response for effect, leaving his visitors, or potential business associates, to wait outside just long enough to instill in them a clear understanding of who held the greater position of power, without becoming offensive. A subtle, yet often effective tactic, it was not one he deemed suitable to employ for these particular visitors. They were not the sort to keep waiting, lest he hold little value in his own continued well being, which of course, was not the case. He immediately depressed the flashing door actuator on the desktop and stood from his seat to greet his guests as the office doors slid open.
Every aspect of his welcoming demeanor was well practiced, a fact which he was eternally grateful for at the moment, as were it not, he was not sure his expression wouldn’t have portrayed his true and utter dread. Soldiers and mercenaries were brutish types, their transparent attempts at physical intimidation little more than laughable as far as Traug was concerned, but these Rai Chi were more than just simple brutes. Something about them inspired fear. It was an inevitable consequence to being in their presence. Perhaps it was that these warriors did not seem to be ruled by the usual poisons. As they did not seem to hold value in material goods or money, they could not be bargained with or bribed, in which case, Traug had no means of controlling them. Their lives seemed to be devoted solely to serving their strange religious beliefs. Even Durak, who claimed a devotion to the same ridiculous Gods, still desired power and had personal ambition. These were things Traug could work with. The Rai Chi had no such desires, a fact which put him on edge.
He stepped around his desk, crossing half the office floor to meet the two warriors he recognized from their brief encounter in Trycon, one of which wore a pronounced scar down one side of his face. They were escorted by a half dozen more of their kind along with a small compliment of Sect troops, dressed in the altered attire of special ops, and one administration mech, all but the last of which remained outside the office as the doors closed shut again.
“On behalf of Syntax Corporation, I welcome you to Ryza.” Traug looked to the administration mech, which immediately translated his words back to the warriors.
The unscarred warrior, the lead of the two Traug assumed by the way he carried himself, sneered at his greeting, eyeing him purposefully. He spoke to him directly, Traug understanding none of what he said in his primitive tongue, but for his final word. Crudely pronounced and heavily accented, it was still unmistakable.
Huumon
.
“Master Warrior Shu’ma Chi-Kem,” the mech began translating, “respectfully, while most urgently, requests an update on the current holdings and status of the human bounty hunter you have in your possession.”
Somehow Traug didn’t believe the Rai Chi’s
request
had been so elegant or polite. Translator mechs had a way of sweetening the words of their speakers. He nodded. “Of course.” He reached over to press another button on his desktop, activating a full size viewscreen, displaying the recording he had only just been watching himself, on the wall, which he directed the warriors towards. “The human is currently contained in one of our isolation cells, as shown in this holo-recording; secured by a state of the art energy barrier; under heavy guard. I apologize that this is not live imagery, but . . . the
sensitive
nature of this facility requires the absence of such recordings. For security purposes, you understand.
Shu’ma cut him off, with dismissive gesture.
“Shu’ma Chi-Kem has no interest in your corporation’s business here,” the mech translated, “or your need for secrecy. His only concern is the human.”
“Of course,” Traug returned, nodding towards the warrior. “The
human
was injured during his capture, though there is no longer any sign of the wound . . . as before.” He noted the warrior’s expression change, though only slightly, at the revelation. “The woman in the cell was also captured with him.”
The scarred warrior spoke, sounding less abrasive and a bit thoughtful, the mech repeating his words.
“Master Warrior Rho’uk Chi-Nal wishes to know the status of the human boy the two came for.”
The warrior, Shu’ma, almost spat, speaking sharply to the scarred warrior and then back to Traug.
“Shu’ma Chi-Kem does not require information on anyone but this bounty hunter,” the mech translated, after looking between the two warriors. “He requests that the human male be brought before him as soon as possible.”
Traug nodded, pleasantly, while taking in the hostile exchange between the warriors. Interesting. A rivalry of sorts, though his instincts were confirmed on who the lead was. “Of course. I will have him moved to more fitting accommodations for your interrogation.”
Shu’ma glared at the wall monitor and then turned abruptly to leave, the scarred warrior’s gaze remaining on the image a moment longer, again seeming more thoughtful, before turning to follow his superior along with their translator mech.
As the office doors sealed shut again, Traug moved back around the desk to retake his seat. The brief exchange had been an interesting and revealing one. Perhaps these Rai Chi were not so different after all. And it seemed he
did
have something they desired. His eyes drifted back to the desk monitor and the bounty hunter that was displayed on it and a satisfied grin came to his face. Yes. He did believe he was in good standing to make a profit from this
huumon
. Now, all that was left was the part of his profession which he found the most personally satisfying. Discovering how it was to be made and seeing it done.
* * *
Their jailbreak attempt hadn’t worked out as well as Elora had hoped, the constricting walls of the containment cell she and Jarred found themselves confined to being a constant reminder of that. Sitting next to him on the cold metal floor, she assumed he was thinking the same thing. She might have found consolation in the fact that Ethan had escaped, if only she could be sure that he
had
.
Before they were captured, Jarred had gotten her brother and Mac; ironically the same man he’d been hunting when they had all met on Isyss, and who had been their only clue as to where her brother might have been taken; up into the ductwork they had entered the facility through. The plan, if she could call it that, had been for Tarik to lead them back towards their original entry point into the facility and that she and Jarred would try to meet back up with them after losing their mechanical pursuers. The last part never happened, as moments after parting ways with her brother, they had run directly into a Sect ambush. Or another Sect ambush, she corrected herself. It had been happening quite a bit lately.
Trapped in a cell, suddenly a prisoner herself, she had no way of knowing what had become of Ethan and the others. Had they escaped? Or had they been captured as well? If the latter, they hadn’t been brought here, so where were they being kept? If the former, had they actually made it back to Kern and Sierra? She could only hope as much. In truth, she knew it was entirely possible that she would never find out. They had barely escaped the Sect with their lives three times before. She doubted they would be so lucky again.
“They made it out,” Jarred said, as though in answer to her unspoken questions. “Ethan’s a smart kid, and Tarik is with him. He would have made sure they got back to the ship.”
Though his words sounded confident, Elora knew they were mostly meant to reassure her. He had no way of knowing that was the case, anymore than she did. She was touched by his effort though and leaned her head over to rest it on his shoulder.
“Once we bust out here,” he continued, after a moment, “I’ll take you both out for a proper reunion celebration. I know this great Tanizian shellfish place.”
Though he spoke the sentiment with noticeably less conviction than before, Elora laughed lightly in recognition of his effort. “I would love that.”
“It’s a date then,” he replied.
Though there was a chance Ethan and the others
had
indeed escaped, neither she or Jarred would have any doubts about their own chances of doing so. Maybe that was what touched her more than anything else. Jarred had known their chances going into this and had probably considered a similar outcome He had done it anyway. He had done all of this to help them. To help
her
. As hard as he had been trying to keep up his cold, self serving persona, she knew that he
did
actually care. He had risked his life more than once to save them, partly out of some sense of moral obligation, but also because he was beginning to develop an emotional connection to them. To
her
. She knew as much because she was feeling the same things for him. Something was growing between them, though the circumstances and timing weren’t exactly fitting or appropriate for a budding romance.
Regardless, in the dire situation she found herself, she was glad to have him here with her. If she was truly facing her end, at least she would be with someone she cared for when it came.
The deactivation of the cell’s barrier field, followed immediately by the entry of a small contingent of armed soldiers, suggested that end might be approaching rather quickly. The calm she had felt only a fraction of a second earlier left her, replaced with the quiet panic one might expect to feel in such situations. It wasn’t a good feeling and she gripped Jarred’s arm as they both came to their feet.
The soldiers looked between them for a long moment before one of them finally raised his weapon in Jarred’s direction and fired. Elora felt herself scream, though her voice was drowned out by the sudden shockwave of horror that surged through her entire body as she watched Jarred stagger back before falling to the floor.
* * *
Surrounded by darkness, Jarred could not see the room he had been moved to from his cell, only able to feel the coldness of the metal table he was firmly bound to. He had be tranquilized, remembering nothing of his journey here, but to his knowledge, Elora had not been brought with him. He supposed that was a good thing. He suspected that what would take place here would not be pleasant. Sect troops had captured them, which meant that Durak would not be far behind and Jarred did not expect his mood to have improved any since their last meeting.