Winds of darkness - Part Six

		(c) 2001, Wirewolf
		(Rewritten 2/1/99)

When the world reappeared around the three of them, they were standing in a matter 
transmitter chamber aboard the Alvarado.  The transmat operator, an older dark-skinned 
woman, studied them a second.  Her gaze lingered on Zanth, but she said nothing about 
him.  Instead she told them, "Sick bay is two decks up.  There's a t-lift at the end of the 
corridor."  She pointed to the open doors on their right.

  "Many thanks," Redics said pleasantly.  The woman returned with a polite nod.

  On their way, Redics told his companion what he had learned about the health risks 
concerning spun metal fragments within living tissue.  "How odd," T'yonnosh 
commented, "that Stretreten never mentioned that particular aspect of his favorite topic 
for conversation."

  "I'm sure he's never had the opportunity to experience it the way we have," Redics 
replied.

  Outside the sick bay, a few people were standing, waiting for treatment.  None seemed 
to be at serious risk from their injuries.  The three of them stood with the others.

  Only a few minutes after they had arrived, a man strode out of sick bay.  This time 
Redics had no doubts about whether or not he was familiar.

  "Jim!"

  Garvin was as surprised by their chance meeting as they were.  He had a neurostim 
bandage around his left arm and a large patch over his left eye.  It seemed to Redics that 
the relief that followed Garvin's surprise was not just that he was heartened to see them 
alive, but that he had had the good fortune to stumble across the solution to a thorny 
problem.  Redics had seen that particular look on that particular face before.

  He came over to them, looked them over briefly and said, "I'm glad to see you three, and 
in such good health.  Your timing couldn't be better."

  That clinched it.  Redics knew for certain that Garvin would want to put them to work 
on something related to the explosions.

  "Good to see you too, Jim."  Redics kept his sarcastic thoughts to himself.  Garvin, after 
all, was only doing his job.  Enlisting their help was simply part of how he got his job 
done.  He pointed to the patch.  "You didn't lose an eye, did you?"

  "No, but I came very close."  He pointed the way he had come.  "I'm waiting my turn in 
surgery right now."  Glancing at the others waiting outside sick bay, he motioned for 
them to follow him.  All four of them moved to a discreet distance, where Garvin 
lowered his voice and said, "We have to talk.  Where are you going after you get fixed 
up?"

  Redics looked at T'yonnosh, who shrugged.  "Back to the Ti Phorus, I suppose.  We're 
worn out."

  "You may not get any rest for a while," Garvin warned.

  "Mm."  Redics nodded.  "Clean up, I assume."

  "No."  Garvin's eyes turned hard, his lips pressed into a thin line.  "Retrieval."

  Nothing was said for several heartbeats.  Redics' body slowly stiffened as he realized the 
extent of what Garvin was asking.  "Jim," he began.

  "Not now," his employer said.  Redics persisted.

  "Jim!"

  "Not now," Garvin said forcefully.  "We'll discuss the particulars when we're alone."

  Before Redics could say anything more, T'yonnosh gripped his right shoulder.  "We'll 
meet you aboard the Ti Phorus whenever you're ready," he told Garvin.

  With a nod, Jim Garvin left to wait his turn in surgery.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Redics whispered fiercely, "How are we supposed to 
do a retrieval with a dead ship?"

  "Shh," T'yonnosh placated him.  "We'll worry about that later."  He gave the shoulder a 
squeeze.

  Redics shook his head in mild disgust.  He had a feeling things weren't going to get 
better any time soon.

  T'yonnosh was taken into sick bay first, since his injuries were a bit more severe than 
Redics' or Zanth's.  When the nurse asked Redics to come in, he told Zanth to follow him.  
Inside, T'yonnosh was laying on his stomach while two medtechs worked on removing 
the biting shrapnel from the backs of his legs.  His beige robe was folded up and wedged 
under his head for a pillow.

  Redics was directed to a seat where a young male nurse of roughly humanoid stock 
made a lengthy scan of him.  It seemed to Redics that his attendant was either very 
cautious or suffering from a lack of confidence.  He repeated the scan three times, each 
time making some small adjustment to his medscanner.  Finally he put it down, looked 
Redics in the eye and asked, "Is this metallurgic intrusion upon your person the only 
problem you have?"

  Several impatient answers came to mind immediately, but Redics quashed his 
frustration and simply said, "The only one of consequence right now."

  The nurse acknowledged with a stiff nod and picked up the medscanner again.

  As he consulted its database, Redics wondered if perhaps he would have been better off 
trying to do a quick patch job on himself with a medikit.  With a sigh, he resigned 
himself to being in the sick bay longer that he had hoped.

  When he noticed Zanth sniffing curiously at one of the instrument carts behind the 
nurse, Redics promptly said, "Don't forget about him."  With irritating calm, the 
humanoid put his medscanner down again and asked, "Forget about whom?"

  Redics pointed to the tundra cat.  When the nurse turned, Redics expected some dull 
comment about the virtues of practicing medicine on only one patient at a time.  Instead, 
he jumped back a step, almost pushing Redics off his seat, and made a curious, and 
prodigious, squealing sound.

  Everyone in sick bay turned at the sound, most notably Zanth.  He was still somewhat 
keyed up from recent events.  The humanoid pointed at the tundra cat with a four-jointed 
finger and asked in unmistakable fright, "What is that?!"

  "He," Redics replied, emphasizing the first word, "is my companion, and he is in need of 
your services."

  On a face with no protrusion to house the nasal cavities, the nurse's already oversized 
eyes gained even more dominance as they widened in anxiety and disgust.  He lost all 
composure as his thin finger and thin voice both shook.  "It's a pet?"

  "No," Redics told the man.  "He's a patient."  His simple irritation was growing into 
serious animosity.  He refused to allow Zanth to go without treatment because some 
addle-minded med had a xenophobic streak.

  Turning on Redics, the nurse said in the harshest tones he could manage, "Get that 
animal out of here!  I won't allow it to contaminate the patients."

  From his vantage on the diagnostic bed, T'yonnosh had a clear view of both antagonists.  
It was no surprise to him that Redics didn't respond to the nurse's imperious command.  
After dealing with Vages, neither of them were in the mood to appease those who were 
unfamiliar with Zanth's kind.

  He didn't realize how serious the problem was until the nurse made a frantic call for 
security to come and remove a 'dangerous beast' from sick bay.  To his dismay, he 
noticed the tense stance of the now-standing human.  He pushed himself partway up 
when he saw Redics' arm starting to move.  The look on that pale, naked face signaled an 
imminent attack, and sent T'yonnosh scrambling off the bed without regard for the pain 
from his still-open wounds.

  T'yonnosh just managed to grab Redics' upper arm before the human could strike.  
Furious at being thwarted, he turned on T'yonnosh.  For one brief, horrible moment, the 
genemorph was curtain his human companion would strike blindly at him.  Fortunately 
for both of them, comprehension came to Redics an instant before he lunged at his new 
target.

  "What are you doing," T'yonnosh asked with a deceptively calm voice.  Redics didn't 
answer, but, still riding the crest of a wave of anger, he tried to pull his arm away.  
T'yonnosh held on, adding, "He's a medic.  His job is to protect his patients."

  "His job is to help those who need it!" Redics snarled.  The medic in question turned 
from staring fearfully at the 'beast'   He started at the sight of an aborted attack directed at 
himself.

  "And you want to move things along by swinging at him?"  Redics' anger was infectious 
and T'yonnosh found his own temper rising.

  "You're too complacent!" Redics snapped.

  "And you're too reactive'" T'yonnosh shot back.  "Now sit down and be quiet !"

  They glared at each other for several moments until the red tinge was gone from their 
vision.  When he felt Redics' arm relax, T'yonnosh let go.

  "Zanth," the human said quietly.

  "He won't benefit from you sitting in the brig," he told him.

  Finally, T'yonnosh saw the fire leave his friend's eyes.  Redics sat down.  Looking 
around, T'yonnosh noticed the other medtechs had turned their attention back to their 
work.  The nurse was keeping a wary eye on both Zanth and Redics, afraid to approach 
either.

  Into the sick bay swept an imposing figure, a human woman of middling years.  It was 
not so much her physical stature that asserted her as someone of consequence.  She was 
of average height, slim and fit.  Rather, it was her expression and her bearing coupled 
with her medical officer's uniform that told anyone familiar with humans, 'This is my 
domain.' "Who called for security in here?"  Her tone confirmed what her presence 
declared: this was her sick bay.

  T'yonnosh stood by Redics and watched as the nurse explained the situation as he saw 
it.  He noticed the conspicuous lack of reaction when she looked at Zanth.  The tundra cat 
had taken up his 'harmless' posture, lying with head on paws, eyes closed.  She glanced at 
the quiet human who had threatened her staff, sizing him up in a second.

  "Tuk," she addressed the nurse, "there are more arrivals outside.  Would you please do 
the triage while I handle this?"

  "Of course," said Tuk.  He glared at Redics briefly, then left.

  The doctor stood before Redics, a medscanner in her hand.  She looked at T'yonnosh, 
noticing how close he stood to the offender.  She told him with a silent nod and an open, 
nonjudgmental expression that she would listen to Redics' side without prejudice.  
T'yonnosh lowered his ears a fraction in acknowledgment, and returned to his own 
treatment.

  Bringing her medscanner to bear, the doctor made a swift medical scan of him.  "What's 
your name, for the record," she asked without looking at him.

  "Redics Mlkosni," he said.  He watched her run the scanner a moment.  She had a 
somewhat oval face framed by dark brown hair dappled with gray.  Once again he had 
that persistent feeling, that he had met this person somewhere before.  He decided to 
check later to see if he had ever been aboard the Alvarado.  "And you are?"

  "Elizabeth DeRoslo, chief medical officer."  She finished her scan and picked up an 
injector.  With an economy of movement that came from long practice, she loaded it and 
pressed it into his left arm.  Triggering the correct dosage, she held it in place until the 
soft hissing stopped.

  "What's that," he asked, more to hear her voice than real curiosity.

  "Telkeyozine.  It's an enzyme that will bond to those metal fibers floating around in you.  
Once they have been coated, they can't cause clotting and will pass harmlessly out of 
your system."  She put down the injector and picked up the scanner again.  Satisfied, she 
said, "I'll have one of the medtechs remove the object from you shortly."  She put the 
scanner down, leaned against the edge of the nearest bed and said, "Now, would you 
mind telling me why you felt it necessary to upset Tuk?"

  Redics pointed at Zanth.  "He has a piece of the station in his foreleg.  He needs as 
much help as I do."

  "I didn't ask why you're here.  I want to know why you tried to thump my nurse."

  Redics blinked.  Be candid, he decided.   "Anger."  He hesitated.  "Mixed with stupidity.

  "Ahh," DeRoslo said, as though a great medical mystery had been solved.  "I see.  One 
of the worst communicable diseases known to humanoids."  She looked him in the eye, 
emphasizing what she said.  "You must have caught it from Tuk.  He's been known to 
suffer relapses occasionally."

  Redics said nothing at first, in deference to the doctor's words.  But he felt an urgency 
about the subject that demanded he make Zanth's needs known.

  "He's sentient, you know.  Not an animal."

  "Yes, I know," she replied.  "I've heard about Peirythian tundra cats."  She looked at the 
specimen in question and added, "I don't have any data on their physiology, though."

  "His collar houses a scan-activated chip that contains his medical history and files on 
his anatomy and physiology."

  DeRoslo studied him a moment.  "I see you've planned ahead."

  Redics looked at her, unable to shake that feeling of familiarity.  "There's a translator in 
there, too.  Patch into it and he can tell you what's wrong himself."

  "Uh-huh."  She watched him, wanting to see his reaction.  "If I take him-"

  "Zanth."

  "Ah.  If I take Zanth into my office and tend to him personally, will you promise not to 
commit violence upon my staff?"

  Redics frowned.  "I never threatened your staff."

  The doctor's tone hardened.  "That's not what I heard."

  "He refused to do his vowed duty because of ignorance and fear," Redics pressed.

  "And I will speak to him at length about it," she responded impatiently.  "We've already 
done that dance.  The question I want answered is: do you require a security escort during 
your visit here, or not?"

  They stared at each other, a silent contest of wills.  Redics was still angry about the 
nurse's actions, but the doctor was right.  He had stepped over the line, and was therefore 
obligated to show acceptance of her authority.

  "There will be no more trouble while I am here," he calmly told her.

  "Regardless?"

  "Regardless."

  She accepted his pledge without further comment.  "Zanth," she called.  "If you'll follow 
me, I'll get you patched up."

  Zephanthus got up and briefly pressed his head against Redics' knee.  He knew that 
Redics' reaction was a measure of the friendship between them.  He wanted the human to 
know that he understood.

  Zanth and the doctor disappeared into her office, leaving Redics to think about what had 
been said.  And what hadn't.  He glanced at T'yonnosh to find that one watching him, an 
almost wistful expression counterpointed by a trace of rebuke in his amber eyes.

  Redics sighed.  One hell of a party, he thought, and it's just getting started.

  **************************

  Half an hour later, their hurts tended, the three stood waiting for the t-lift that would 
take them back down to the transmat chamber.  None of them spoke, each lost in his 
private thoughts.  The silence felt oddly unpleasant to Redics.

  When the doors of the t-lift opened, they found themselves staring at the acting 
commander of the Alvarado, Joshua Roman.  Zanth entered and after a moment's 
surprised hesitation, T'yonnosh followed him.

  Redics stood outside the lift, staring at the older man.  "Coming?" T'yonnosh queried.  
As the doors started to close, he stepped inside.  Roman eyed him with suspicion.  When 
the lift started to move, Redics asked, "Have we met before?  You seemed familiar to me 
when we spoke earlier."

  Roman stared at him, then shook his head.  "I would have remembered seeing eyes like 
yours."  The short two-deck hop was over.  The doors opened.  "If you'll excuse me."  He 
brushed past Redics and headed for the transmat room.  The three followed.

  The dark-skinned woman was still on duty.  She was working the controls to pipe 
someone or something aboard.  Redics approached Roman again.  "Expecting someone?"

  The chief engineer gave him an uncomfortable look.  "We're retrieving what's left of our 
First Officer."

  Redics closed his eyes and cursed himself.  "I'm sorry."

  "So am I."  Roman's voice was heavy, almost lifeless.  "He's a fine officer.  And my 
friend."  He glanced down at the deck.   "Was."

  When the transmat powered down, two of the Alvarado's security personnel were left 
standing in the chamber with a null-g stretcher between them.  The look on their faces, 
humans both, spoke volumes more about how the felled officer was thought of by the 
ship's crew.  They looked stricken, uncertain.   "Take him to sick bay," Roman told them.   
"I'll inform doctor DeRoslo."

  Silently, the security team left.  Roman stood staring at the chamber, his expression 
unreadable.  Redics didn't move.  He suddenly felt a need to offer a word of comfort.  He 
could think of none.

  Slowly, Redics moved up into the chamber, followed by his companions.  He turned to 
face the engineer.

  Before the transmat operator could start the cycle, Redics said, "I know where I've seen 
you before."

  Roman looked up.  He said nothing.

  "I've seen you in a dream.  You came to me when I was hurt, in trouble.  You helped 
me.  You protected me."

  The officer's brows furrowed.  "I don't know you."

  "Maybe not.  But I know the strength you have.  I've seen it."

  The two men looked deep into each other for several heartbeats.  Without taking his 
eyes from Redics, Roman told the operator, "Activate."

  Back in the lounge of the Ti Phorus, T'yonnosh gave Redics a curious look.  "What was 
that about?"

  Redics shook his head slowly.  "I don't know."

  T'yonnosh's ears twitched.  "Was it true?"

  Human looked at genemorph.  Confusion colored his tone.  "I don't know.

  T'yonnosh draped his ruined robe over a convenient chair.  "Why don't you get some 
rest?  You haven't slept since we first got here.  That's got to be over thirty hours."  When 
Redics didn't respond, he added, "It'll likely be a while before Jim calls.  We'll wake you 
when he does."

  "Yes," Redics said softly.  "I am tired.  I hadn't realized."  He took a few steps toward 
the corridor that lead to his quarters.  He stopped, half turned.  "I'm sorry."

  "I know," his friend told him.

  Redics faced him, unwilling to leave what he had to say until later.  "I was wrong, all 
around.  Being tired is no excuse."  He paused, hating what he had to say, hating more 
that his temper made it necessary at all.

  "I'm sorry I yelled at you.  I'm sorry I..."  Shame made him lower his eyes.  "...almost hit 
you.  That was inexcusable."

  "I understand why you did it.  I took no offense," T'yonnosh assured him.  With a little 
smile, he said, "I'm not sure the same could be said of the doctor."

  Redics wrinkled his nose, an imitation of the expression T'yonnosh used to show a lack 
of concern.  "Her opinion of me isn't important.  Yours is."

  There was a twinkle in T'yonnosh's eye as he told the human, "I still hold you in high 
regard."

  Redics sighed, finally feeling a little more relaxed.  With a wan smile on his own face, 
he headed for his room.

  T'yonnosh couldn't resist calling after him, "Of course, if you had swung, it would be 
different."  He heard Redics' tired chuckle in response.

  His smile quickly fading, T'yonnosh dropped onto the main couch, propping his head 
on his folded hands.  "Mmunumrun," he muttered.

  "What's wrong," Zanth asked him, wondering about his use of mild invective.

  "I hope this is all over soon," he almost growled.  He looked at Zanth, his ears flagging.  
"I was of half a mind to hit him first."

  **************************

Jim Garvin stood leaning against the bulkhead just outside the transmat room of the 
Alvarado.  He was stalling, he knew, for the task he had set for himself was not a 
pleasant one.  No less pleasant than the task he would soon give them.

  The words of Admiral Beckwith and Ambassador Meldir were still ringing, and he was 
duty bound to achieve the goals those honorables had set for him.  He had no arguments 
with the goals themselves.  He accepted the necessity and the responsibility.  Rather, his 
qualms lay with the expected means.

  It hadn't been like this at the start of his peculiar career shift.  A few civilian operatives, 
volunteers all, and minor compensations provided by circuitous means.  The problems 
faced then had been comparatively simple; small jobs that couldn't be done by acceptable 
factors, outside of the ICCN's sphere.  Or even, occasionally, the Alliance's.  There had 
been no acknowledgment of the process or the outcome.  Not even when it affected 
larger things.

  Then the problems unexpectedly began to grow.  About the time Redics had been 
recruited, there were perhaps twenty individuals doing one or two jobs a year.  Several 
operatives were lost to the increased tension between the A.F.W., and the neighboring 
Jhegrak Empire, and several other expanding influences that required monitoring.  As the 
jobs, and the subsequent risks, got larger, operatives became teams.  At the height of his 
nonexistent organization's prowess, Garvin had overseen the quiet deployment of several 
dozen teams.  Redics had been one of six people in his group.  The consequences of the 
actions those teams had wrought affected both the Alliance and its adversaries.  On one 
notable occasion, the Alliance's Inner Council itself benefited from the organization it 
wouldn't concede existed.

  Independent agents, as they now called themselves, were finding it harder to work 
anonymously.  Rumors of their existence and scope of operations began to circulate.  
Teams found themselves compromised, endangered, and powerless.  Their own success 
had begun to turn against them.

  Then, disaster, swift and devastating.  A particularly delicate situation between the 
Alliance and a token handful of Jhegrak  'representatives' was misread by the assigned 
team.  After the shooting stopped and the bodies had been counted, the two sides stood 
only a trembling fraction away from declaring war.  Two weeks of intense negotiations 
and unmitigated shows of strength were all that kept the Alliance from being attacked.

  Without an acknowledged agency to target, the Council couldn't lay the blame on any 
one doorstep.  It did, however, make its displeasure widely known.  No such 'accidents' 
would be tolerated in future.  Garvin was forced to cut back the operations of his 
independents.  Lost agents were not replaced and those that were not as highly skilled 
were removed from the rosters.

  Now there were only a few left, mostly working solo or in pairs.  The troubling part was 
that although their numbers had dwindled, the difficulty and danger of the jobs had not.  
Making things even harder were officials like Beckwith and Meldir who had learned of 
the agents and their reputation.  Seeing such a resource as the perfect solution to their 
problems, they thought nothing of handing Garvin their list of needs and simply saying, 
"Do it."  And it was always the independents who bore the burden of such indiscriminate 
assignments.

  Which was the reason for Garvin's reluctance in giving this particular assignment.  If the 
order had come from anyone less than an Admiral or an Ambassador, he would have 
flatly refused.  He knew better than to give Redics an assignment in which a personal 
stake was involved.

  The decision was out of his hands though, and he couldn't wait any longer.  Garvin 
picked up the portable holoprojector at his feet and strode into the transmat chamber.

  **************************

  There was a faint wave of static electricity as the transmat effect built in the middle of 
the Ti Phorus' central lounge.  T'yonnosh could feel it tugging slightly at his pelt.  He 
glanced up from playing his seven-stringed tsunnovf to watch Jim Garvin assembled 
from the plasma stream that focused only a few meters away.

  Matter transportation, or piping, as it was known, was a relatively new means of moving 
a living being.  The process involved placing the subject in a special booth and exposing 
it to a stream of particles that would strike, disassemble, carry and deposit every atom of 
the subject.  Once the process was complete, the subject was in its new location.  The 
broadcasting device had an external tube through which the particle stream is aimed, thus 
the process was called `piping'.  The equipment was expensive and therefore relegated to 
the military and those few who had the means to purchase such extravagant items.

  As the last stray ions phosphoresced into decay, Garvin glanced around the room.  He 
nodded briefly at T'yonnosh, who flicked his ears in return.  His expression was neutral, 
but he carried himself stiffly, as though he expected confrontation.  As he moved into the 
half circle of chairs where T'yonnosh sat, cross-legged, he asked, "Where is he?"  He put 
down the holoprojector he was carrying.

  "He's in the shower."  A strained smile.  "We let him sleep a little longer than he 
planned."

  "Mm."  The human drew a long breath.  "Has he calmed down?"

  T'yonnosh shifted the instrument in his lap.  He figured Garvin would have heard.  He 
wondered which version had reached him first.  "Will it matter?"

  Garvin stared, answer enough.  T'yonnosh closed his eyes and sighed gently.  This, too, 
he had expected.  Looking down, he pulled his tsunnovf to his chest.  His fingers, tipped 
with blunt black claws, caressed the strings with graceful ease.  A slow, haunting melody 
seemed to flow not only from the instrument, but from T'yonnosh himself.  It suited his 
mood, especially the more forceful, almost painful refrain.

  Jim stood a moment, listening to the music.  He seldom had a chance to hear T'yonnosh 
play.

  During a brief pause in the music, he sat on the couch opposite the chairs.  That's when 
Zanth came over, ducked his head and rolled onto his back, stretching his full length.  A 
smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as Garvin watched the tundra cat at his feet blink 
expectantly at him.  He obliged, ruining his hand over Zanth's chest and stomach.  He 
could feel the bass rumblings well up into his arm.

  "They did a good job on your eye.  No discoloration."

  Jim looked up at him.  The caniform had stopped playing to watch him with a quiet 
intensity.  He was wearing only what he had been born with.  Under the softer lighting in 
the lounge, it was hard for Garvin to see the subtle gradations of color in his fur.  He 
knew them to run from iron gray around the joints; knees, elbows, fingers, to a lighter, 
washed-out cloudy gray across his chest and back, hips and legs.  Tail, ears, and cheeks 
were the darkest, a muted ash gray flecked with lighter spots.  Under his chin and across 
the tops of his feet it lightened to an almost dirty white.

  He was about to reply when Redics came into the room.  His hair was damp and tangled 
and he wore only a pair of loose fitting light brown pants.  Without a word, he moved to 
the synthesizer  and called for a cup of coffee.  When nothing happened, T'yonnosh 
spoke up.  "The synth files have been damaged.  Sections 1240 to 1690 are gone."

  Redics glanced in T'yonnosh's direction, noting the empty glass on the floor by his 
friend's chair.  He grunted softly and called for a similar glass.  He took his cup of spiced 
milk and sipped from it.  Garvin saw him shudder, then drink more deeply of the 
traditional Genemorph stimulant.

  As he moved toward a chair of his own, Redics said, "Sorry I'm late, Jim.  Something 
happened to my alarm."  He reached out as he passed T'yonnosh's chair and laid his hand 
firmly on the caniform's head, squashing his ear.  T'yonnosh paid him no attention.

  When Redics had gotten comfortable in his chair, T'yonnosh set aside his tsunnovf and 
retrieved a fist-sized object from his lap.  Activating the translator/transmitter, he set it on 
the floor.  Its presence was for Garvin's benefit.  Zanth was considered a part of their 
team, and his input during these briefings was just as important as his humanoid friends'

  Garvin began without preamble.

  "I've spoken to Admiral Beckwith and Ambassador Meldir about what's happened, and 
we all agree.  The explosions were used to cover a second event, the real event.  
Everyone has done a head count, the Alvarado has scanned the debris field, and all the 
bodies of the victims have been recovered and identified.  But now we're left with a new 
problem.  Fourteen people are missing, unaccounted for."

  Redics set down his drink.  He was wide awake now.  Garvin continued.

  "Before you ask, no, they aren't all Yrboti that are missing.  This isn't a minor coup 
planned to embarrass the Yrboti governments, as we were led to believe.  Only two of the 
missing persons are Yrboti.  The rest are a mix of Alliance citizens.  Several of those are 
from the diplomat's ranks.  One's an ICCN ensign.  A few others."  Garvin hesitated.  "One 
is a Alliance Ambassador."  He paused there, watching their reactions.

  "You know you're always free to decline any assignment, and I seldom push for 
acceptance.  This is different, though.  There may be far more than fourteen lives at 
stake."

  Redics frowned.  He didn't like where this was going.

  "Are you willing?" Garvin asked.

  Several moments of silence answered him.  When Redics finally met his superior's 
eyes, he said, "What can willing possibly have to do with this?  Ask me if we're able."

  "Redics-" Garvin began.

  "I can't even get a cup of coffee out of her," Redics interrupted.  "She's in absolutely no 
shape to risk fourteen lives, and possibly more, on."

  "I have no other options in this," Garvin said flatly.

  "We're not an option, Jim.  Why don't you send the Alvarado?  She's carrying the same 
equipment we are, certainly more.  And theirs works, I'll bet."

  Garvin shook his head.  "Sorry, Redics.  The Alvarado's engines were taken off line for 
scheduled maintenance when it arrived yesterday.  It won't be ready for eight more hours, 
and we don't think we have that much time."  He leaned forward and tried a different 
tack.  "I can get some of the engineering staff from the Alvarado over here.  They could 
take care of the worst of your problems.  What do you need fixed the most?"

  "Jim, we don't just have a few problems here and there," Redics said in a desperate 
voice.  "We were hit by an overload that either killed or tainted every system.  The 
Alvarado may be out for a few hours, but we're looking at days !"

  The two of them said nothing for a while.  Garvin stared at Redics, who had to drop his 
gaze.  Garvin got up from the couch and moved to a chair opposite Redics.  He watched 
him pick up his glass and drink.

  "Sesh and Kitress are among the missing."

  That brought the three of them to attention.  Zephanthus spoke first.

  "Kitress is not dead?"

  "He's not to be found, dead or alive," Garvin said carefully.

  "Where's Dalthia," T'yonnosh asked.

  "She's aboard the diplomatic courier that brought them.  Her remaining staff are with 
her.  She's already been told as much as possible."

  "Why didn't you tell us this from the first?"  Redics found himself surprisingly calm.   
"You know well enough that we took a formal oath with Sesh and his family to protect 
them whenever possible."

  Garvin tipped his head to one side, a faint smile on his lips.  "You needed someone to 
yell at."

  "I see.  Fine."  Redics looked at his partner questioningly.  T'yonnosh quietly met his 
gaze, giving him the answer he expected.  He turned back to Garvin.  "If we're going to 
do this, we'll need the sensor arrays and the sublight engine made useable."

  "Excellent," Garvin beamed.

  Redics hardly thought the situation could be called 'excellent' but he had already voiced 
his concerns.  It was time to worry about other things.

  "Anything else?" Garvin asked.

  "No.  The hyperdrive still works, we still have weapons, and we can get the computers 
to cooperate until this is over."  Redics considered his employer a moment.  "What can 
you tell us about this... event?"

  "The immediate facts are these:"  Garvin crossed his arms and leaned over the arm of 
his chair.  "The smoke that filled the meeting hall was caused by the same devices that 
were used to weaken, and ultimately destroy, the windows.  A preliminary scan of the 
explosion sites strongly suggests the sequence of events after the detonation was 
precisely planned.  The force of the blasts wasn't enough to cause an immediate breach, 
but it was enough to ensure they would fail after a few minutes.  The smoke was used to 
cause more confusion and to cover what happened next."  Garvin paused, rubbing his 
chin.

  "The Admiral, the Ambassador and I believe someone used this cover to move into the 
hall and forcefully abduct the fourteen people now missing.  Minutes later, the windows 
finally gave, killing any potential witnesses, scattering any evidence left behind, and 
causing yet more confusion to delay the discovery of the missing people."

  "Where did they take them?" T'yonnosh asked, although the answer seemed fairly 
obvious.

  "We think they were moved to a Dheway cargo ship that was docked at the station."

  That surprised T'yonnosh.  He thought about the short meeting he had seen between 
Prulim and the Dheway.

  Garvin retrieved the holoprojector.  "This is a recording from a security camera on the 
docking ring.  The Yrboti head of security for the station was kind enough to let me 
borrow it."  As he spoke, he activated the projector.  "The image isn't very clear.  Yrboti 
technology hasn't advanced far in holocam design."

  There was a sharp crack as the projector grid came to life.  The half- sphere of the 
emitter glowed slightly while the air above it was manipulated into glowing streaks.  The 
streaks sharpened as the projector fined down its electrostatic discharge.  Soon, a slightly 
fuzzy holographic image of a ship was hanging above the projector.  The ship was 
connected to a wall that had to be the docking ring.

  Redics had never seen a Dheway ship before, but this one was obviously built for 
moving cargo.  It was little more than a long skeletal frame with an engine pack at one 
end, a control/command module at the other, and a dozen or so brackets girdling its 
length.  Attached to the brackets were the cargo pods, large cylinders with doors on either 
end.

  "What's that bulge?"  Redics pointed to an odd deformation along the bottom of the 
control/command module.  The hairs on his arm stood up as his hand entered the sphere 
of the hologram.  The area he touched degraded into colored smears, then was slowly 
redefined.

  Garvin shook his head.  "Don't know.  Nav module, maybe."

  "Or an escape pod housing," T'yonnosh suggested.

  The image changed.  Part of the engine pack flared.  Even with the grainy image, they 
could make out the anguished writhing of the support cables and power feeds as stress 
rippled through the docking platform to which the cargo hauler was mated.

  "He caused the first dock breach," Redics mumbled.

  The engines flared brighter.  There was a sudden puff of white ,frozen air escaping into 
space, around the platform as the ship ripped it away from the docks.  The platform 
finally separated from the ship and was pulled back to the docking ring by the only 
remaining tether, a power feed.  The amputated platform crashed back into the docking 
ring, severing the power feed.  Freed from its restraints, the platform floated away, but 
not before being hit by the antenna array of the next ship on the ring as it rotated by.  The 
array bent back against the ship's hull.

  The four of them watched in silence as the Dheway trader engaged its bulky, 
underpowered hyperdrive.  With a flash, it was gone.

  The projector shut itself off with a click and the holograph dissolved into a brief flare of 
rainbow colored dots.

  "Was that the only Dheway ship here?" T'yonnosh asked, still thinking about the 
Dheway he had seen in the meeting hall.

  "Yes, it was," Garvin answered.

  "Are there any other Dheway on the station?" Redics asked.

  "No.  The ones that were here are gone.  We're naturally assuming they are back on their 
ship."

  T'yonnosh shifted in his seat.  "Has anyone talked to Prulim about this?"

  Garvin looked annoyed for a moment.  "No," he admitted.  "Her staff has thrown up a 
wall of bureaucratic fluff around her.  No one can get close enough to talk to her."

  Redics pointed to the projector.  "Are we assuming the Dheway are responsible for 
this?"

  Garvin frowned and leaned back in his chair.  "Well, they are the prime suspects.  
However, there are some elements that don't add up."

  "Like what?"

  "We're having a hard time pinning down a motive.  Granted, Dhewa and Yrbo were 
fighting not long ago, but there haven't been any hostilities between the two since the 
treaty.  We're also missing opportunity."  Garvin looked at Redics, then T'yonnosh.  
"According to the people I've talked to, the Dheway government is in flux right now.  
Every few years, the seats of power are shuffled around to keep any one party from 
gaining too much advantage.  Most of their attention should be focused on their own 
affairs."

  "What about the traders that just left," T'yonnosh wondered.

  "They are with one of two merchant guilds that are large enough to send out ships 
despite the political climate at home."  Garvin shrugged.  "Even so, we're still missing 
motive."  He thought a moment.  "We're also missing physical evidence.  There are 
precious few clues left in the hall.  Nobody saw what happened, after the smoke rolled 
out.  The security cameras were useless.  We have no witnesses."

  "I saw them."

  The three men stared at Zephanthus in surprise.

  "You saw the Dheway in the meeting hall?" Redics asked.

  "I don't really know who they were," the tundra cat explained.   "They were wearing 
suits that covered everything, even their heads.  There were two of them, and they tried to 
grab me."

  "They tried to take you?"  Redics sounded alarmed.

  "You couldn't see what they looked like?" T'yonnosh asked.

  Zanth gave them a brief description of what happened to him after the smoke had filled 
the meeting hall.

  "What was their basic shape?" Garvin asked.

  Zanth concentrated, trying to remember.  "Human shape," he said.  "Thin.  Not very 
tall."

  "Yrboti," Garvin muttered.  "Now there's a kink.  Why would Yrboti help Dheway 
attack their own station?"

  "You said it yourself," said Redics.  "Someone's political agenda."

  "Redics," Zanth said softly.  The human looked at him.  "There had to be a lot of them.  
They had to move those people quickly to the docks.  They had to prepare.  They had to 
make sure no one could follow-"

  "Quholtz!" Redics swore viciously.  The other three jumped when he slammed his fist 
into the arm of his chair and yelled, "The maintenance tunnels !"

  "Yes," said Zanth.

  T'yonnosh and Garvin were at a loss.  "What?"

  Redics stood, angry at himself for not seeing it all before.  The pieces had been right 
there, in his head.

  "Zanth and I found their escape route without even knowing it.  There were places in the 
maintenance tunnels that were blocked off.  And the techs at the station's stabilizers, they 
were missing."  He looked at Zanth, pointing.  "It was to funnel the hostages in the right 
direction and to keep anyone from interfering."  He paced around his chair, his thoughts 
churning, his mind seizing upon all it had learned recently and putting the clues together 
to form a picture.  He suddenly stopped moving.  He stared at Zanth.  "I see what you're 
saying.  Yesss."  He drew his last word into a hiss, seemed to stop breathing altogether.

  Redics leaned over the back of his chair and gripped it tightly.  He hung his head, closed 
his eyes and said, "Follow me, here.  First there's the explosions, then the smoke.  At that 
point, fourteen people - specifically targeted or chosen at random, it doesn't matter- are 
moved out of the hall and through a prepared corridor of sealed-off passageways through 
the station to the docks.  They only had a few minutes to do this, so it had to be done all 
at once.  No return trips to get more people."

  He looked up at Garvin.  "There would have to be at least two for each hostage.  If they 
were injured or resisted, there had to be enough force on their side to make certain they 
weren't held up.  Not enough time for that."  He paused for emphasis.  "There had to be at 
least twenty-eight of them to move those fourteen people out of the hall quickly."

  Garvin nodded absently, beginning to see the picture Redics was revealing.

  "Even if they risked using less people, there still had to be enough of them to keep 
things under control.  You said," Redics pointed at Garvin, "there were only two Yrboti 
missing.  So all those people who helped move the hostages are still here, on that 
station."

  "And one of them has my teeth marks somewhere on him," Zanth added.

  "Yes," Redics confirmed, almost gleeful.  "One of them has been injured in a very 
specific way."

  "Uh-huh," Garvin grunted softly.  There was a glint of fire in his eyes.  He had been 
given a chance to do more that just sit back and wait for events to unfold.  "I have work 
to do," he said quietly.

  After a few moments of quiet thought, Redics asked Garvin, "You bring us a going 
away present?"

  "Mm, yes.  I almost forgot." Garvin produced a data block wedged into an interface 
cartridge.  "It's not much, though.  Yrboti computers are not yet compatible with ours, 
and the data we have is pretty thin."  He handed the construct to T'yonnosh.  "All the 
background I could find is in there, plus the sensor logs from the Alvarado at the time the 
Dheway freighter left."

  "Jim, there's something bothering me."  T'yonnosh took the construct.

  "Why are the Yrboti in the Alliance when they haven't developed a faster-than-light 
drive to leave their solar system?"

  "Ah, well, you can thank the Dheway for that.  They developed FTL capability about a 
decade ago.  We made first contact, but the Dheway declined to join the Alliance.  They 
started expanding to other systems without the benefit of a version of the Rules of First  
Contact to guide them.

  The first inhabited world they found was Yrbo.  Yrbo was just starting to send crude 
probes to its own moon then.  The Dheway made contact, introduced interplanetary 
vehicle technology, and started trading with Yrbo, all within ten years.  The Alliance 
Inner Council decided that since Yrbo was now a member of the interstellar community, 
albeit prematurely, we would introduce ourselves.  Yrbo seized upon the opportunity to 
ally with an even more advanced culture and joined.  That was six years ago.  That's 
what started the fighting between the two."

  T'yonnosh stared at the data block, mulling over Garvin's response.

  "Anything else you can tell us?" Redics asked.

  "Not really, except that when it' s able, the Alvarado will follow you and give whatever 
assistance is needed."  Garvin paused, regarding Redics a moment.  "I don't suppose you'd 
accept some assistance beforehand, a little extra manpower?"

  Redics turned to T'yonnosh, but the caniform was still deep in thought.  Turning back to 
Garvin, he shook his head.

  "I'd rather not have any Icer triggers involved.  They tend to complicate things."

  Garvin frowned, not just because of his refusal but his disturbing use of the derogatory 
term for ICCN troops.  "I'm not talking about shock troops, Redics, just a few security 
teams to back you up if things get thick."

  Looking distinctly uncomfortable with the whole idea, Redics said "No, thanks.  We 
don't need the extra weight.  Besides, those types usually have trouble taking orders from 
people like us."

  'Us' being independents, Redics had a point.  Still, his objections were rather weak 
compared to the seriousness of the situation.  Garvin would have pushed harder if it 
weren't for their history of succeeding under similar circumstances.  He knew what the 
three of them were capable of doing by themselves.

  With a sigh, Garvin stood and collected the holoprojector.  "The repair teams will be 
here as soon as I can arrange it," he told them.  "I'll be on the Alvarado if you need 
anything."  Taking his communicator from his pocket, he signaled the Alvarado to pipe 
him back.

  After Garvin had left, Redics glanced at T'yonnosh.  His friend looked at him with 
troubled eyes.  "I think one side or the other may be trying to play the Alliance for a 
pawn."

  Redics nodded.  "I had the same thought."

  
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