Halav stood in the center of the large room the Varen Patrol forces had outfitted as their command and communications center. Around him, Guard soldiers finalized their takeover of the installation.

  The raid had gone well, the Patrol forces unprepared for the size and suddenness of the Guard’s attack, and Halav concluded that the arrival of the guns had forced the Patrol to reveal their presence sooner than planned. That fact, combined with the chance that some of the captured Patrolmen might be convinced to divulge the location of one or more of the United Galaxy’s other strongholds on Arecia, almost made Cameron’s death worth something. But only almost. And the problem of what to do about Bryant remained.

  “Colonel Kamick?”

  Halav glanced up at the call from the soldier manning the Patrol communication gear.

  “We’re getting a call, sir. Apparently, some of the Patrolmen in the city don’t know what’s happened here. I’ve got one requesting assistance at the port. He says the ship he’s watching is attempting liftoff.”

  Before Halav could reply, Captain Arbiss called to him from the command center door.

  “Colonel, Trin just called.” Arbiss pocketed a commlink. “I sent him to fetch Calin to help with some of the wounded. When he got to the room, he found Calin unconscious and Bryant gone.”

  It took less than a heartbeat for Halav to put the two reports together. He bit back an angry oath.

  “Get me Inspector Lanar at the spaceport,” he ordered the soldier at the comm board, then turned to find Arbiss standing beside him. “Is Calin all right?”

  “He’s fine. Bryant hit him with a couple of his own sedatives and took his clothes and gun. Trin says he’s coming around. They’ll get here as soon as they can.”

  “I’ve got Inspector Lanar, Colonel,” said the man at the comm station.

  “Put him on,” Halav said.

  “Glad you called, Colonel,” Lanar’s voice came over the comm. “Someone just tried to make off with the Conquest. We forced the ship back down with some assistance from your friends on the freighter, but there’s no response to any of our calls.”

  “What about the Patrolmen?” Halav asked.

  “Oh, they got real excited when the ship started to lift off, but they’re back in their car now, probably calling for help.”

  “Well, they aren’t going to get any,” Halav said, letting some of the satisfaction he was feeling creep into his voice. “Go ahead and have them arrested for trespassing or littering or whatever you like. And keep an eye on the Conquest. If anyone comes out of the ship, grab them. I’ll be right there.”

  “Sure, Hal. See you soon.”

  “You’re going to the spaceport?” Arbiss asked.

  Halav nodded. “If you think you can handle things here.”

  “No problem. You want me to find someone to go with you?”

  Halav shook his head and forced away a possibly inappropriate smile. “No, I want to do this myself.”

  * * *

  For a long time after the sound of the Conquest’s engines faded, Kressa sat in the pilot’s chair, thinking, planning, turning ideas and scenarios over in her head as she struggled to come up with some way out of her predicament.

  Finally she gave up. Short of abandoning the ship, she could think of nothing that would get her out of this mess. Hell, by now she probably wouldn’t even be allowed to leave. She had watched on the viewscreens as a half dozen port security men led the two Patrol soldiers away. Doubtless others were waiting out there to take her into custody if she left the ship. She knew Connie would be able to verify that suspicion if she asked, but she did not ask.

  She could always just hole up in the Conquest, she mused, at least until someone arrived with something to get past Connie’s defenses. That didn’t sound very appealing, however, and she feared it would only make her final punishment that much worse. Just how harsh was the Arecian penalty for stealing a starship?

  Yet had she actually stolen the Conquest? Maybe Thorne hadn’t come right out and said she could keep the vessel, but he had given her what she needed to control it. That must be worth something. But what court would listen to a nineteen-year-old girl trying to lay claim to a ship as magnificent as the Conquest? Maybe she could contact Tempo and have him testify on her behalf, to assure her accusers that she knew how to operate and maintain the vessel. Maybe then they would listen to her. Except she felt certain the colonel would never allow her to appear in any court to plead her case.

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  “There is a single figure approaching the ship.”

  Connie’s voice shattered Kressa’s thoughts, and she looked up slowly.

  The colonel was walking toward the Conquest, keeping to a bright splash of light cast by one of the port beacons. He wore a gunbelt, but the holster was empty. In his right hand he carried a squarish piece of equipment about the size of a small carry-all.

  “Connie, what’s that he’s got?”

  “The object appears to be a high-energy laser cutter.”

  Kressa frowned in dismay. Did he intend to cut through the hull to gain access to the ship? She straightened in her seat.

  Spaceport control had warned her against use of any of the ship’s weapons, yet she couldn’t just let the colonel walk up and cut his way in! She thought fast.

  “Connie, do you have external speakers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Turn them on.” She switched on the comm. “Colonel, stop where you are.”

  He glanced up at the freighter but kept walking. “Open the airlock.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Look, Bryant, I don’t want to cut up Cam’s ship, but I will if you don’t let me in.”

  Kressa seethed. There had to be some way to stop him!

  She looked at the colonel again and got an idea.

  “Connie, open the main airlock and extend the boarding ramp.” She dashed out of the control room.

  She was waiting in the entrance corridor, arms crossed over her chest, one shoulder resting against the wall just past the inner airlock door, when the colonel entered the ship.

  He set the laser cutter on the floor and glowered at her. “I thought I said we’d talk about this later.”

  “It is later,” Kressa said, “and the only thing I have to say to you is get off my ship! Go back to your friends and tell them to let the Conquest leave.” She glared menacingly. “Or the Guard is going to be minus one colonel.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” He grabbed for her.

  Kressa danced back a step. “Connie, stop him!”

  “Unable to comply.”

  “What?!” She ducked as the colonel lunged for her again, a hint of a smile on his face.

  “Voice and visual imprints identify Halav Kamick,” Connie said. “Designation: ally. Previous orders request—”

  “Shut up!” Kressa whipped out the gun she’d taken from Calin and turned it on the colonel.

  He stopped in mid-lunge, and his smile vanished. He raised his eyes to look deep into hers.

  She swallowed hard, shocked by the emotion in his gaze. No one had ever looked at her with so much—understanding? But her aim did not waver.

  “You didn’t shoot Calin,” he said, his voice calm. “You’re no killer, Bryant. And I still want to talk.”

  She stared at him, her thoughts rolling around in a confused tumble. She held the gun at arm’s length, level with his chest.

  She thought about backing away, but did not.

  She thought about pulling the trigger, but could not.

  You’re no killer.

  “You’ve got a chance here, Bryant,” the colonel said. “Don’t throw it away.”

  “What chance?” She tried to put emotion behind her words, but they came out flat, desperate.

  “Connie may not be willing to shoot me,” he said, “but she won’t obey me either. You, on the other hand…” His eyes searched hers. “The Guard needs the ship, you control it. Maybe we can make a deal.”

  A deal? Maybe she could keep the Conquest after all. But what price would the colonel demand? And what price was she willing to pay?

  She continued to watch him, silent, the gun held before her, her finger tight on the trigger.

  “You told me you pay your way, Bryant. Are you willing to do that now?”

  The gun wavered in her grasp. She forced her hand to hold it steady. “How?”

  He chuckled quietly, and a brief smile lit his features. “Besides your ability to control the Conquest, there’s the fact that you were resourceful enough to get away from us, and get past the Patrolmen and onto the ship. That’s a hell of a recommendation as far as I’m concerned. The Guard needs people like you.”

  Kressa said nothing, trying to absorb the meaning of his words. He had every ability—and probably every right—to take the ship by force, yet he was offering her a place in his organization instead.

  “Look, Bryant, all I’m asking is that you give me and my people a chance to show you what we’re doing.” He caught her gaze and held it. “You just might find it’s what you’ve been fighting for all along.”

  She started to tell him she’d never fought for anything, then she realized she had been fighting most of her life, fighting for the freedom to live and do as she wanted. It was why she ran away from the Academy, why she left the Wolfpack and hooked up with Tempo. It was why she wanted the Conquest.

  The Guard fought for freedom, too, only on a much grander scale. Maybe working with them wouldn’t be so bad. At least she could give it a try; that was all the colonel was asking. And she’d get to keep the Conquest.

  That didn’t sound like too high of a price to pay.

  The Price of Conquest. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please leave a comment or review, or even give it a favorite.

  Volume 2: Esora starts in the next chapter.