Galaxy: Gre'tala/Dar'ce "Set Up the Board"
Michael Black
He was looking at Miqu'elan Dar'ce.
***
Miqu'elan sat up in his bunk. The room was furnished, if you could call it that, crudely. He was in a holding cell again. The new owner that had bought him and the two raiders had inspected them and then put them in the cells. Miq had heard the other two being removed and brought back, possibly for some type of scan or other procedure. Though his internal clock was a bit off as of late, he figured that it was about time for the guards to come get him and take him to wherever the others had gone.
He was not disappointed, for shortly two sets of footsteps were heard in the corridor. Miq had decided that resisting at this point was fruitless; the psi dampener had taken away one of his greatest assets. He would have to plan carefully if he were to effect any kind of escape attempt. He continually tested the limits of the psi dampener, and he pushed so hard once the first day on board that he had passed out. When he woke up, though, he had heard a whisper of a thought, so he had continued until he realized there was another telepath around.
Whoever that was had apparently talked with the ship-master and his collar had been adjusted up a couple of levels. He couldn't hear anything anymore, though he kept pushing it. If he pushed hard enough, he might eventually hit the upper limit of what the collar was capable of stifling. He could then figure a way out of this mess he was in.
He walked with the guards to a turbolift, which deposited them on another non-descript deck. Miq waited while one of the guards pressed a button to open the door to what looked like an office. The office was ornately furnished, with expensive vases and real-wood furniture. It appeared to be from a rare type of everblue tree native to Kelthar. His grandfather had some in the Imperial Palace on Xenon. The desk looked like it was hand carved and put together with old-fashioned screws and pegs.
Behind the desk was a well-dressed Man'deharan man. He was tall, almost as tall as Miq, and his features were slightly familiar, though the Xenonian could not place him. It was likely someone he had only seen once, but never met. The guards took up positions by the door after shoving Miq into a chair facing the businessman. Their weapons were visible, but even if they hadn't been, Miq would have known they were there.
The man finished a private conversation and then turned around. He looked at the guards and said, "Shackle him to the chair and then go wait in the hall." Miq felt the man's gaze on him as the guards did their job, the bigger one checking the setting on the collar psi inhibitor before he left.
"Your name does not appear on the manifest," the Man'de'haran began. "But again, neither are the other two slaves I bought. I don't think Gormalek really cared what your names were when he sold you to me. Turns out, he should have been a bit more careful who he was selling to the syndicate."
Miq felt a wave of apprehension flow over him. If this man had guessed who he really was, he would go straight to kaelin with the information, and then he'd be dead.
The businessman saw his anxiety, evident even in the disfigured face. He smiled.
"Don't worry, Miqu'elan, your secret is safe with me." The man came around the large wooden desk and leaned in close to the Xenonian. "I have a secret, too."
He got close enough that Miq could smell his cheap cologne and whispered in his ear. "I'm Douglas Tre'gata."
--
-Michael-
"The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.' "
Ronald Reagan
40th president of US (1911 - 2004)