Shore Leave

Captain Brendan Blake strolled the walkways of the Lagos3 High District as though he didn't have a care in the universe. To look at him and his slow, easy gait you would never suspect him to be the captain of The Solstice, the Earth Protectorate's most feared battle cruiser, and responsible for the lives of the eighty plus men and women that served under him as officers and crew were it not for the uniform he wore that declared him so. His manner was such an expression of calmness and casualness that his uniform drew no more than a quick first glance from those who lived in this generally high class, high-priced section of town.

His uniform did mark him instantly as an unusual visitor to this part of town. Generally, visitors to the nearby space port hopped shuttles to the gambling and pleasure districts of Lagos3; a fact that Captain Blake witnessed mere minutes ago as he watched the majority of his crew do just that. But Brendan preferred simpler, quieter fare than what those districts offered. It was that preference that led him years ago to this blend of 35th century technology and 19th century style. The synth-wood structures seemed to absorb what little sound there was in this part of town and radiated an overwhelming sense of peace and belonging that he had never managed to find even in the expansive nothingness of space.

Brendan's smile grew a little wider as he reached his destination, The Bottomless Flask; High District's sole drinking establishment. Made completely of synth-wood, it looked very reminiscent of the holos one would find of a 19th century bar room with one exception. Traditionally, bar rooms are dark and enclosed where men could drink themselves into a stupor away from the prying eyes of their wives and make dark pacts away from the prying eyes of the world. The Flask, however, was open and airy to allow natural light to illuminate the establishment and the activities of its patrons.

The faint strains of the classical piece Waltzing Through The Snow reached Brendan's ears as he entered The Flask. He always expected his boots to make a solid thumping noise as he walked across the synth-wood planks as they wood on a regular wood-planked floor and it always disappointed him that his footfalls were silent. In spite of his silent entry, Victor Sand, the establishment's owner turned the moment he entered and gave him a hearty "Welcome back, Captain Blake."

Brendan smiled at the thin, wiry bartender as he clasped hands with him. "Hello, Victor. It's good to see you. How is the family?"

The exuberant bartender beamed with familiar pride. "Good as gold, Captain Blake! Good as gold! Can I get you your usual?"

"Thanks, Victor. I'll take it over here," Brendan replied, indicating a table near the door. He usually sat at the bar and swapped stories with Victor when he visited, but one of the things about him that Brendan had always liked about him is that he never pressed anyone for conversation and respected their need to drink in silence when they wished it.

He sank heavily into his chair and wondered for probably the thousandth time why he always felt like he was heavier planetside than when he was shooting through space in The Solstice. He had discussed it many a time with his Chief Science Officer who assured him it was only a deception in his perception. While the planets they visited varied in gravitational pulls, he knew that Lagos3 had a gravitational pull slightly lighter than Earth's and yet he still felt like he was heavier here than on The Solstice which simulated Earth's gravity.

Victor placed his drink in front of him mere seconds after he had sat down and left without another word. Brendan took a long pull on it and set it down again. He rubbed his hand over the synth-wood table and noticed how much calmer and relaxed he felt in The Flask than he did in his own quarters on The Solstice. There was just something soothing about the texture, the smell and the grain of the table he sat at than the molded plastic and steel of his own quarters. He made a mental note to have his quarters redone with synth-wood to give it a more comfortable, more natural feel.

Brendan had just tipped his glass for another pull when a shadow fell across his table. He casually set his drink back down but did not turn around. "Hello, Kitty. Care to join me for a drink?"

Katyana Vonda stepped into his view with a mix of consternation and surprise. "How did you know it was me and not someone out to make a name for himself by assassinating an Earth Protectorate Captain?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Brendan drawled out the dated expression from ancient earth literature to which Katyana's blank look indicated that the reference was completely lost on her. "The Bottomless Flask is equipped with dampeners to render any energy weapon short of a cannon useless. My chair is located several paces from the door which would require an assassin to enter the establishment in order to attack me with a handheld weapon. Victor greeted you with a smile when you entered which tells me he knew you on sight and the look of amusement on his face led me to believe it was not a regular and that whoever had entered had made an indication not to vocally greet them as is his usual manner. He would only allow someone of my crew interrupt me and my drink in this manner and since you are the only member of my crew that I have brought to this establishment who is not currently on duty I could reasonably deduce that I was being approached by one Doctor Katyana Vonda, Chief Medical Officer of the Earth Protectorate's battle cruiser, The Solstice."

Katyana looked stunned by his line of logic while Victor laughed loudly and clapped while giving a shout of "Bravo, Captain Blake!"

Katyana shut her mouth with a snap then folded her arms stiffly and grunted, "Lucky guess."

"Infallible logic," Brendan returned as he took another drink. "Sit down, Kitty, relax and have a drink. Victor, a Pink Nebula for the lady."

"Coming right up, Captain Blake."

Katyana sat stiffly across from him. "In spite of your so-called 'infallible logic', Captain Blake, I must still protest your leaving yourself vulnerable to an attack in this manner. A man of your position and responsibility should take more care to...."

"Bolmas, Kitty!" Brendan interrupted her. "Did I overlook a request for you to change from Chief Medical Officer to Chief Security Officer? I do not believe Lieutenant Mance will respond well to your trying to usurp his position on the ship."

"My apologies, Captain B...."

"Brendan," he interrupted her again.

"What?"

"Kitty, we've known each other for over ten years, we are on shore leave and none of the crew is present. You can call me by my first name. Come on. Try it. Brendan. You can do it."

While she did not like his patronizing tone, she couldn't help but smile a little. "My apologies, Brendan."

"Very good. Now relax a little, loosen up those shoulders, put a little bit of slouch in that posture and have a drink as I point out one other piece of logic you have neglected to consider."

"Do tell, oh great guru of infallible logic."

"That's more like it," Brendan smiled. "Now if I were down with the rest of the crew in the gambling and pleasure districts, I would be much more concerned about a knife in the back. But here in the High District we have high-class, civil people that don't like to get their hands dirty. If they intended to kill me, it would be subtle like poison in my drink. So you see that I have more reason to be concerned about what is in front of me right now than anything coming at me from behind." Katyana's smile faded away at this comment. Brendan raised his glass and toasted, "So, here's to civility," and drained the last of its contents then waved to Victor for a refill.

Katyana sipped conservatively as she stared at nothing. Brendan guessed she was wrestling with the purpose of her following him here to speak with him alone. He knew the purpose and the conversation that must follow, but he was in no hurry to have it so he just continued to drink while she worked up the courage to broach the subject. He knew immediately when she reached that point when she uncharacteristically chugged down the last of her drink, grimacing at the harsh burn of the alcohol and called for another.

She stared at him unabashedly while Victor replaced her empty glass with a full one while Brendan gazed languidly out into the street where sparse numbers of people walked and an occasional transport drifted quietly past. She took a large gulp of her fresh drink and Brendan followed suit as he waited for her opening salvo. "Captain, ... I mean, Brendan," she amended, "we need to talk about the Doneiri incident."

Brendan chuckled slightly and then took another quick drink. If there was one thing that he could always expect from Katyana it was for her to get directly to the point. She had never mastered the art of small-talk. "By 'we' do you mean the Chief Medical Officer of the The Solstice and I or Kitty and I?"

"I don't understand the question. I am the Chief Medical Officer of The Solstice."

"No. You are Kitty Vonda, a friend and associate of ten years. We have shared the intimate details of each other's lives in countless conversations, I served as a pall bearer at your father's funeral and on Casalas you attacked me in a fit of alcohol-induced passion when you underestimated the strength of their popular Flaming Love cocktail." Katyana immediately blushed at the memory of the incident that came dangerously close to something more were it not for Brendan's iron-clad resistance to her advances until the passion-inducing herb and the alcohol had worn off.

Brendan deliberately let that memory hang in the air between them as he took another drink. The close relationship they had shared through the years and the amount of alcohol he had consumed himself that night made it very difficult to resist her that night. But through the haze of his own drunkenness, he still knew that if they crossed that bridge that night under those circumstances he ran the risk of it changing their relationship forever and even losing his best friend. She left The Solstice for two years after that before rejoining their crew almost three years ago. While he had made every effort to resume their casual friendship, she kept herself at a distance to the point where he knew he had still lost his best friend despite his valiant efforts not to. Though she was still friendly, the wall she erected between them, keeping Brendan at a distance in all things personal, made it difficult for her to even sit across from him in The Bottomless Flask and share a casual drink and light conversation. To Brendan, it was like drinking with a complete stranger.

"A conversation between Kitty and I," Brendan continued, "would be very different from every conversation I have had with you since Casalas. I would be speaking to you, not the Chief Medical Officer of my ship who would be sure to document the conversation afterwards, including a psyche evaluation in the report." Katyana visibly stiffened defensively at this and opened her mouth to speak, but Brendan spoke again before her objection could be verbalized. "Chief Medical Officer is something you do, Kitty. It is a job. It is not something you are any more than I 'am' Captain. You are Katyana Mele Vonda, a beautiful woman who shares my love for classical music, has a caring heart beneath that stern, clinical exterior, whose laugh is like the tinkling of crystal, who cries silently at the beautiful majesty of nature's wonders, who has a love of butterflies and is my dearest friend. So tell me, do I get to talk to Kitty or Chief Medical Officer Vonda?"

Katyana's hesitation spokes volumes to Brendan before she lied, "It's just me, Brendan."

She vainly tried not to fidget under Brendan's cool, piercing gaze. "So what could my dear, old friend, Kitty Vonda, want to know about the Doneiri incident that she doesn't already know?" he finally asked with a slight emphasis on the word friend.

Katyana stared at her long, slender fingers as she considered her words. "I guess I know everything except for what could possibly be going through your mind when you disobeyed a direct order and allowed the Doneiri ship to escape without firing a single shot." She looked him in the eyes, her dark brown ones boring into his steely blue. "Why did you do it, Brendan? You just committed career suicide. You know that they are never going to let you The Solstice now. They can't trust you with her if they can't trust you to follow orders in battle."

"Battle," he snorted. "That was never a battle. It was a slaughter."

She flinched at the vehemence in his voice. "Just because we routed them so effectively...." She left off as he shook his head.

"What do you know of the Doneiri, Kitty? What do you really know?"

"That they are a splinter group of the Earth Protectorate that had remained effectively hidden on Doneiros for nearly forty years until a Protectorate science expedition team stumbled upon one of their cities. By this time they had grown in numbers and military strength and were amassing a strike force to attack the Protectorate. They destroyed the scientists' outpost, killing every last scientist, but not before they got a signal out to warn us of the Doneiri's plans. We countered with own forces, of which The Solstice was a part of, to effectively put a stop to their plans before innocents died."

"So, essentially you know nothing other than the propaganda that the Protectorate has fed you."

"Propaganda? What are you talking about?"

"The Protectorate's report was nothing more than a bunch of fabricated lies mixed with a few truths, Kitty. They engineered that battle for no other reason than to destroy the Doneiri." With that Brendan stood abruptly and walked to the men's lavatory, leaving Kitty in his wake. In spite of his declaration, she stared expressionless at his half-empty glass. She looked over at the bar and noticed that Victor was not at his usual post and guessed he must be in his stockroom at the moment.

It was several moments before Brendan returned and he noticed Kitty had drunk a significant portion of her drink in his absence. He settled back in to his chair and waited for the questions he knew she must ask. Kitty remained silent until after he had taken another drink. "Why?" she finally asked. "What reason do you think you have for accusing the Protectorate of lying about the Doneiri?"

"The same reason every captain of every starship needs for opening fire on any other ship that crosses their path. The support of its people. Just as if I randomly fired on a vessel for no apparent good reason, you and several of The Solstice's other officers, no matter how loyal to me, would have me immediately removed from command, the Protectorate needed a reason to attack the Doneiri to avoid a mutiny of its own forces." Brendan downed most of what was left in his glass, leaving just a small amount in the bottom. He started to feel a little bit buzzed.

"If what you are saying is true, why would they even want to attack the Doneiri in the first place without some provocation? What reason would the Protectorate have for wanting to destroy them? And what proof do you have of this ridiculous accusation?"

"To hear the answers to those questions, you are going to need a bit more alcohol in your system to lessen the shock. I have a head start on you, Kitty. Drink up and I'll have Victor bring us both a refill. Victor! As soon as the lady finishes her drink, let's have a refill of both and make them specials, will you?"

"Sure thing, Captain," Victor called out having resumed his post at the bar. Kitty downed the last of her glass and Victor retrieved them both, but did not have immediate refills for them as he usually did so she and Brendan were left staring out into the sunlit street while they waited, both wrapped in their own thoughts.

When Victor returned with their drinks several minutes later, Katyana saw him give Brendan a look she did not understand to which an unexpected look of sadness passed over Brendan's face as he started to fiddle with the chronograph on his wrist. He then downed half of the glass Victor gave him and Katyana followed suit with her own as she waited for Brendan to resume his explanation. He didn't start right away, but leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for several moments with a slightly pained look on his face. Katyana checked the time of her own chronograph and impatiently wished he would get on with it.

"The only truths in the Protectorate's transmissions about the Doneiri," Brendan spoke with his eyes still closed, "were that they were a splinter group from the Protectorate, they did settle on Doneiros forty years ago and they did grow in size without the help, the interference or even the consent of the Protectorate, which is just the way the wanted it. Their whole purpose for leaving the Protectorate was because they did not agree with the way the Protectorate was running things and the direction it was taking. They wanted to live for themselves, be allowed to govern themselves, choose their own leaders whose ideas and values were more in keeping with the people they would govern. There was no bad blood; no plot for revenge after forty years of hiding. They just wanted to live in peace and the Protectorate would not even allow them that."

"If they were so peaceful, why would they attack the science outpost?"

"Come on, Kitty. That was no science outpost set up on Doneiros. They explored and evaluated every last inch of that planet years ago. You only have to look into your own data files to see that it was slated as a habitable planet given the proper structures and protection against the violent storms that occasionally sweep across its surface. It was one of the outer fringe planets that were being considered for future expansion if the environmental conditions did change for the worse after the standard 50-year evaluation period. It was how the Doneiri knew they could settle and survive there. It was a Phase 1 military outpost."

"What? Why would they...?"

"A supply freighter on its way back from the Segala space station picked up an unidentified starship that came within scanning range. It tracked it to Doneiros and reported it as a potential pirate outpost. The Protectorate established the Phase 1 outpost as an intelligence gathering operation to identify the threat and evaluate it. But instead of a den of pirates, they found a thriving populace living independently of the Protectorate. Contact was made with the Doneiri leaders and they were offered reassimilation back into the Protectorate. The offer was rejected. The Doneiri counter-offered by proposing trade agreements. The even offered to establish a non-military spaceport on Doneiros to facilitate trade with the understanding that those Protectorate citizens who lived there and Protectorate visitors would be subject to Doneiri laws, which were really not very different from the Protectorate's. They even offered the Protectorate to maintain the Phase 1 outpost as a means for the Protectorate to continue its observations and insure that their citizens were being treated fairly, but under no circumstances were they allowed to increase their military presence there. This did not sit well with the Protectorate Triad."

Katyana brow wrinkled in perplexity. "I don't understand. If what you are saying is true," she said placing heavy emphasis on the word "if", "why would the Triad have an issue with their offer."

"Control," Brendan replied. "Think about it for a moment. The Triad has had full control of, well, the universe with opposition coming only from small irritants such as the occasional rogue governor and pirates. But now they are being dictated to by another government; one with a sizable populace and a fully developed military force. This new government has the audacity reject the Triad's offers and dictate its own terms on a planet that the Triad had already claimed as being Protectorate property. It necessitated a ... response ... to show the Doneiri who was really in control of Doneiros."

"Are you insinuating that the Protectorate attacked the Doneiri without provocation?"

"There was no attack, Kitty;" Brendan said sadly before he took another drink, "at least not in the outward sense of the word. It was subtle, but very effective. A Doneiri city, Sellah, of over one million citizens now stands empty."

"Are you saying...?"

"I'm saying they're dead, Kitty!" Brendan's eyes flashed in anger. "Over one million innocent men, women and children are dead, poisoned, simply because the Protectorate did not like somebody else declaring their independence in a system the Protectorate had future plans for. Dead because the Triad would not allow a group of people govern themselves. They are all dead," he whispered.

"So you are suggesting that the Protectorate started this fight? That there was no attack on the Protectorate outpost? I can't believe it!"

"Oh no, Kitty. The outpost was attacked; destroyed. Twenty Protectorate murderers died quick, merciful deaths in exchange for the one million plus people who died slowly, painfully, by their hands. It was hardly a fair exchange, but it gave the Protectorate the excuse they needed to send the full might of their forces against the Doneiri. It was a coldly calculated move to send a message to anyone that dares defy the wishes of the Triad and the Protectorate."

"What you are saying is treasonous, Brendan. You know that, don't you?" she said in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder at Victor. "Why would you make such unfounded accusations against a system you have long fought to preserve?"

"Unfounded?" Brendan pressed the button embedded in the synth-tables edge that released the holo projector embedded in its center. Reaching into a pouch on his belt, Brendan withdrew a palm-sized vid disc and inserted it into the projector. Seconds later, she was face to face with the Triad, the ruling presidents of the Protectorate.

"Mister Jannus," President Moors spoke. "Your refusal to accept the terms we have set regarding your inhabitation of Doneiros has left us with no choice but to act in the best interests of the Protectorate and its people. We have arranged a small demonstration of the fate that awaits all your people should you continue in your stubbornness." The holo vid flashed the images of people of all ages in their death throes as the collapsed to the ground. "To venture outside Protectorate rule and its protection can only lead to certain death. If our terms are not accepted by the second setting of your sun, your inhabitation of this planet within the systems governed by the Protectorate and the establishment of a military force there will be considered an act of war. And as such, we will send the full might of the Protectorate's forces to insure the safety of our people and our way of life."

Katyana stared in shock at the vid screen as it froze on the image of a woman cradling her child, both of them dead. "Lies," she breathed out finally to which Brendan's only response was to stab the eject button, replace the vid disc in his pouch and then send the holo projector back into the table surface. "Who has fabricated and fed you this elaborate lie, Brendan, and how could you believe it?"

"Captain Danes gave me the disc, Kitty."

"Captain Danes? The man who was court-martialed for collusion with pirates in the Regland system? The man who killed two Protectorate guards and escaped in a stolen shuttle?"

"The court-martial was a farce. He was removed from command the moment the Doneiri rejected the Protectorate's offer of assimilation because he stood up for them. As well he should have as they were his people."

"His people? How could they be his people? He was a Protectorate Captain."

"Yes, but he was a Doneiri citizen, born shortly after they separated from the Protectorate. When he was ten years old, they placed him and a few others with families in outlying Protectorate settlements in hopes that one of them could work their way into the Protectorate's forces."

"A network of spies, then."

"No, Kitty; not spies - they were olive branches. When one of them acquired sufficient rank and trust, they were to lead the Protectorate to the Doneiri and initiate the talks between the two governments. The Doneiri hoped that the Protectorate's trust in a high-ranking officer of its own forces would help smooth the way. Unfortunately, they never got that chance. And when Captain Danes declared his lineage and his allegiance to his people, the Protectorate leveled false charges against him so that the people would never know that their beloved Protectorate had been infiltrated to that level by an outsider."

"How do you know all this, Brendan? How could you know all this?"

"You know I went to the Academy with Banes, Kitty. You know we kept in contact throughout our careerssh." Katyana's head snapped up as Brendan slurred his last word. His eyes suddenly drooped half-closed and his head started to bob a little as though he were having difficulty keeping it erect. "We shtill have kept contact even afffter hish arresht." Brendan tried to raise his hand to pick up his glass to empty it one last time, but only succeeded in knocking it over to collapse back to the table with a thud. She could tell he was trying to fix his gaze on her, but his failing muscular control made it increasingly difficult to lock eyes with her. "Bud you knew, didn'tchoo, Kitty. They shent you to deal wiff me." He collapsed over the table where his muscles twitched in their efforts to regain control.

Katyana stood calmly and moved to Brendan's side. She glanced at Victor as she did so, but the barkeep simply watched the proceedings with an impassive eye. She gently raised Brendan's head from the table surface and leaned him back into his chair with his head resting on the edge of the chair-back. She tenderly stroked his face as a wave of pity momentarily overwhelmed her. She mentally squashed that with her strong sense of duty and willed herself to pull back, resuming her typically stiff posture.

"I am sorry, Brendan," she said crisply. "I really am. You had to know that they would send somebody after the stunt you pulled with the Doneiri. Your admission that you had been communicating with a Doneiri officer the entire time only sealed your fate. I am torn between wishing they had sent someone else and being grateful that it was me. The orders were to bring you in 'Dead or Alive'. To bring you in alive would subject you to interrogation and imprisonment. I couldn't bear to do that to you. I think I know you well enough to know you would prefer death than to be pulled from the stars that you love so much. And if death is your preference, the least I could do is grant you as painless a death as possible. I owe you that much. The poison will run its course within a few moments and your passing from this life will be as easy as drifting off to sleep. It was the least I could do for a dear, old friend."

Brendan's head lolled to meet her gaze. "I'm shorry, Kitty," he whispered.

Katyana leaned in. "For what, Brendan?"

"To putch yoo through all thish trouble," Brendan whispered more faintly, "only to fail!" His last three words were said with such certainty and strength that Katyana immediately jerked back.

Brendan's eyes snapped fully open and he stood strong and sure once more before her with a sad smile on his face.

"How did you...?" Katyana couldn't even complete the question as she stared open-mouthed and dumbfounded at Brendan. Her mind was reeling as it searched for how he could possibly survive the dosage she had given him.

"How did I know or how did I survive?" He asked, but did not wait for an answer. "The answer to both is Victor." Katyana's head whipped around to see Victor give her a smile and a short wave only to return to drying a glass and inspecting it for any spots he may have missed. "You see," Brendan continued conversationally when Katyana faced him again and he had motioned for her to sit as he did the same, "I did know that the Protectorate would send someone for me. I suppose it could have been somebody outside my crew, but I suspected they would prefer something quieter and more subtle. Out of all the people that could get closest to me, Kitty, you could get the closest and I couldn't seem to rule you completely out."

"I decided the only way to know for sure was to give you the best opportunity you could get. I chose to put in here to give the crew some shore leave and await you here at The Bottomless Flask. The fact that you have avoided spending time alone in my company and then to have you show up here should have been enough to confirm my suspicions, but I still didn't want to believe it of you. I wouldn't believe it of you until I had irrefutable evidence. Without a visible security force present, I could only assume that if you were to try to either take me prisoner or kill me it would be by drugging me. So I left my glass half full and excused myself to the restroom for several minutes during which time you placed the drug, slozate, in my drink." He did not phrase it as a question and Katyana knew he wasn't asking for confirmation.

"What you do not know is that Victor there was an accomplished chemist for the Protectorate Science Division before he decided to become a humble barkeep. Care to guess his specialty?" She simply shook her head not meeting his eyes. "That's right, poisons. And he has kept samples and antidotes and a miniature chemistry set in his storeroom which has come in handy on more than one occasion. Isn't that right, Victor?"

"Yes, it has, Captain Blake. It even saved your life just four years ago."

"That is right, Victor. And if I recall correctly I was poisoned by a former lover who refused to accept the fact that I would not settle down planetside. I believe she used the one drug most commonly found in this quadrant - a painless, but certainly fatal drug known as slozate." He was silent until Katyana raised her eyes to meet his. "When I returned from the restroom, I finished all my drink except for a small amount in the bottom of my glass for Victor to test. It came back positive. You make recall that I asked Victor to bring us refills and to make them specials? It was our code that he was to test my drink for the presence of drugs other than alcohol and if it came back positive he was to fill my next drink with the antidote ... and yours with the drug."

Katyana lurched to her feet suddenly as she noticed the tingling sensation in her hands and her feet that her consciousness had ignored throughout Brendan's explanation. While she managed to get herself upright she found herself falling backwards, completely out of control. Strong hands grabbed hers as Brendan jumped to catch her before she could fall and hit her head. He pulled her quickly to his chest and cradled her body as he lowered her gently to the floor.

Brendan gently brushed her brown hair from her eyes as she slumped helplessly against him. "I am afraid Victor gave you a stronger dose than you gave me. While it takes just as long to start feeling the effects, as you know, the results will be quicker and just as fatal." He smiled sadly as her breathing started to fade to a soft rasp. "I really am sorry that it had to be you, Kitty. I swear to you that I will make them pay that set you against me. They will not be long in following you into death. I swear it!" Katyana's eyes closed slowly as her life drifted away.

Brendan picked her still form up and set it back in the chair, crossing her arms in front of her to provide a cushion for her head. He set the glass she had been drinking between her thumb and her forefinger of one hand and then stood there gazing silently upon her as he gently stroked her hair.

"Captain, you had better go," Victor's voice sounded over his right shoulder as he came up beside him. "I will see to her now and make sure that she is found by the proper authorities and given a proper burial."

"Are you sure you want to be a part of this, Victor. If anyone is to find you out, the punishment will be quite severe."

"Not to worry, Captain Blake. I never told you, but before I became a chemist I was imprisoned in the Galtos mining camps for five years where I was beaten every day. What can the Protectorate do that is worse than that?"

"Let's pray you never have to find out, my friend." Brendan tore the emblem from the breast of his uniform that designated him as a Protectorate Captain and laid it on the table by Katyana.

"Good luck, Captain Blake," Victor said as he turned his back on Brendan and waited expectantly.

"Captain Blake is dead, Victor. He died the moment this sweet, corrupted angel died. No more will you hear tell of the Protectorate Captain Blake and his valiant service. Now you will only hear of the dastardly Pirate Captain Black, scourge of the Protectorate!" With that he snatched up his glass and smashed it over the back of Victor's head upon which he collapsed into unconsciousness on the floor. Brendan quickly knelt beside his friend and checked to make sure that his wounds were not great before uttering softly, "Thank you, Victor, for everything. May I prove to be just as true a friend in coming years as you have proven to me this day."

Brendan stood and walked purposefully out the door to the sole grav-bike parked in front of The Flask. Hopping aboard, he engaged the grav motor to which it raised up and hovered a foot off the ground. Gunning the motor, it shot down the street at high speed in direction of the space dock.

Lieutenant Mance stood waiting as he pulled to a stop and killed the engine of the bike. Brendan hopped off and strode in the direction of their ship to which Mance fell in step beside him. "Is all in readiness, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Captain Black. Those who will be traveling with us are already aboard."

"And the rest of the crew?"

"Oblivious to our plans and enjoying their leave, Captain."

"Good." As they neared the dock, Brendan noticed a large shroud of cloth secured to the side of the ship covering its name. "What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant?" he asked as he noticed a rope attached to the top edge of the shroud and the other end leading to a pair of crewmen watching their approach. Mance simply waved in their direction to which they pull sharply at the rope tearing the shroud from the side of the ship. Brendan watched as the ship's name became visible once more. Only now it read "The Eclipse" with a small insignia at the end of it that was still covered by heavy paper.

Brendan quirked an eyebrow at Mance to which he simply shrugged and said, "We don't want to make it too hard on the Protectorate to find us, do we?"

"And the paper covering at the end?" Brendan asked.

"The traditional pirate symbol, sir." He caught Brendan's questioning gaze out of the corner of his eye. "We don't want to make it too easy for them, either. It should tear off by the time we hit escape velocity. I didn't want any Protectorate stooges taking shots at us until we were at least up in the air." He gave a short laugh but fell quickly quiet when he noticed Brendan's grave silence as he gazed at the ship's new name. "Is Katyana ...?" He left the question unfinished to which Brendan gave a quick nod. All humor fled Mance's features as he wisely turned the subject. "We are ready to lift off as soon as you give the order, sir."

"The order is given, Lieutenant Mance. Seal the doors and take her up. We have work to do."