Shanghaied Part 3

Demen walked briskly through the corridors in the guts of the Blood Raider station. Over his shoulder he carried a duffel bag.He wasn't sure where he was going, though he was sure this wasn't the way to the place that the Green Woman had taken him before. This was deeper into the station. Even the junkies were few and far between. Ghosting along well behind him was a team of marines. He hoped that their loose cloths would hide their body armor, in case any of the shapes slumped against the walls here and there were lookouts. He ducked through condensation dripping from a buzzing power conduit. The door he stopped in front of was large and looked to be a section divider, meant to act as a semi-permanent partition in case of serious damage to the station. He reached out and knocked in just the right way, the knowledge seeming to just come to him.

When he had been taken to medical, back on the Ideal, they hadn't known what was wrong with him at first. Finally they had resorted to a full body scan. That's how they found the Transcrannial Microcontroller. The medical techs had been ready to remove it, but Col Voutelen had showed up again and had them deactivate it. Then she gave Demen the chance to volunteer. Again. This time, he would have to keep the TCMC for a while longer. They would erase most of the behavioral controls, but leave in the bits about where to go and how to act when he got there. That way, he could lead the way and be the scout for the tactical team that would shadow him. Make sure the crew were secure if he could. He had agreed. They had set it up, which had taken a while. The Captain had even come down to take a look, since apparently he was some kind of implant expert. Demen had been a bit surprised Captain Night was so normal looking, up close.

So, here he was. The heavy door swung aside and he was ushered into the compartment by an armed man, Ni-Kunni, but he didn't look like a Blood Raider. Something about the eyes maybe. Several more men and women lounged around the sparsely furnished room, and Demen saw light laser weapons, snub-nosed projectile throwers, and even what looked like a couple of mag-driven weapons. To one side, two figures who definitely were blooders, in maroon robes, sat at a table. They argued or negotiated intensely with an overweight, tanned Gallente man, who seemed to be sweating profusely. The guard who had greeted him at the door ushered him onward through a door on the other side of the room as Demen tried to maintain his best expression of docility. The guard guided him down a hallway, through a door, into the next compartment, a large space with bunks and a few tables. A second guard kept one bored eye on the others in the room, though most of his attention seemed to be on the magazine he was reading, and he glanced up only breifly at the new entries. People Demen recognized as crew were among those sitting or standing around. They all seemed to have a dull, listless expression. Demen tried not to shudder and with a thought sent the kill order to his implant, which rendered it inoperable. Then he hit a transmitter to let the Tac Squad know he was in. He was a little disgusted, because these amateurs hadn't even scanned him, after he and the techs spent all that time making sure the transmitter was masked.

As the guard gave him a final halfhearted push toward the other crew, Demen lashed out, striking the man in the solar plexus and throat in quick succession. Even as the guard started to bring his hands to his ruined throat, Demen grabbed the grip of the laser carbine still slung across the mans shoulder and fired a series of shots at the still-sitting guard in the corner, walking them across him as he tried to stand. Striking the last guard hard in the face, he let him drop. Wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell of burned meat, Demen stripped the man in the corner of a flechette gun and two clips, then went to the door and risked a quick peek around the corner. Nothing. He dragged the guards both into one corner and avoided looking at the blank stares of the men and women around him, then positioned himself near the door to wait.

It had been barely a minute by his watch when he heard the muffled thump of a flash-bang in the other room. He dropped the gun and hurried down the hall, but waited for the shooting to die before opening the door with his hands up and away from himself. Bodies littered the room, most of them with tight groupings on their chests, though at least a couple looked to have taken head shots. Rifles from around the room were instantly trained on him as he stepped forward. The XO herself was standing in front of the surviving slavers, who were lined up in front of a wall. Both the blooders were there - now that he was looking from the front he could see it was one man and one woman. The fat man who had been arguing with them was on the ground moaning, it looked like a round had smashed his knee. Two other guards sullenly looked at the ground, refusing to meet her eyes. Demen walked over to her, "Our people are secure sir. Two down in back."

"Very good Master Gunny. The team that was to take the surgery they had you in is likely done by now as well. You can head back to the ship with the first team when they go."

One of the Blooder Raiders began speaking, "Do you know who I am? This is our station. This sort of-"

Demen nodded and stepped back as Commander Invelen turned back to the survivors and cut the woman off mid-sentence, "You will all be my guests for the foreseeable future. The rest of your lives, probably. Whoever talks first might - might - be able to cut a deal. We'll see. Two blooders though, is probably one too many."

Demen froze with shock as the Commander pulled out her sidearm and shot the babbling preistess in the head. She eyed the corpse coldly for a moment and stepped out of the way so it wouldn't get blood on her, then turned back to the 4 remaining, "You will keep whatever you have to say to yourself until we are ready to interrogate you."

As he headed back to the ship with the prisoners in tow, Demen couldn't help wondering which had frightened him more: That he had had his mind and will stolen by Blood Raider slavers, however briefly. Or the unquenchable, raging fire that showed ever so briefly in Commander Amieta Invelen's eyes as she pulled the trigger.

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