The diner known as 'La Isla' was located on one of the upper levels of Freeport 9 in the more affluent parts of the space station. It was a very different environment to the dark and threatening lower floors where Tanya was an hour before. Strangely, she felt less comfortable in these surroundings. There was a great deal of pretence and nothing seemed what it appeared to be. The young woman was unable to identify what was driving this train of thought, but she was uncertain and that was enough.
She walked alongside one of her wingmates from the last recon mission, a pilot from Liberty space called Travis Carter. Travis was good company, educated, funny and clearly knew a lot about Sirius. Tanya was curious how such a young man just a few years older than her could gain so much knowledge of trade lanes, jump holes and even the names of some bases she had never heard of. She decided against asking too many questions in case he thought she was prying. With Kenji missing in action and still weighing heavily on her mind, Tanya was just glad for the company.
The pair had been walking for over thirty minutes. Her earlier 'workout' with the Corsair gang had taken its toll slightly and she was looking forwards to sitting down somewhere and resting her feet.
"There it is!" said Travis moments later, pointing at the 'La Isla' restaurant. A large dark board with a light-blue neon sign lit up the front wall above the main entrance. Two men stood outside, obviously, but unofficially and probably illegally, armed under their long jackets. They looked mean and tough.
The Sirius Convention signed by the leaders of each Great House when the sector had been colonised many years ago, didn't allow the use of personal sidearms that could cause hull breaches on stations or commercial spacecraft. Tanya knew that ninety-percent of the sidearms carried these days were all capable of such damage, and more. Such a ruling was impossible to enforce.
Travis strode up to the main door, one of several in a bustling 'street-like' conduit and smiled as the automatic doors hissed open. Music piped through from within and Travis paused for a moment, listening to the soft, lilting melody accompanied by various harmonies. He was nodding his head in time with the rhythm. Tanya had heard this sort of music before when she trained at Cambridge a couple of years ago; it was known as 'jazz', a 20th century musical development that apparently took great skill to master. She relaxed a little, smiled and allowed herself to be ushered in by Travis who stepped inside after her winking at the men on the door.
___
"So tell me, what is Bretonia like?" asked Travis. He poured more Amarus Wine into Tanya's half-empty glass. She nodded her thanks. "I have been as far as Cortez but the Corsairs are an unfriendly bunch!"
Tanya winced slightly at the sound of her now most hated enemy.
"Bretonia is beautiful. If you see the auroras that border the galactic north-east of Manchester, the shimmering colours so bright, you'd fall in love with the sight very quickly," sighed the girl. Travis was staring at her, his brown eyes fixed on her own, a strange expression on her face.
"Yes. I can imagine what that sight is like," he said without taking his eyes off her. Tanya blushed and felt hot. She smiled and looked around at the restaurant's interior trying to think of a way to change the subject.
It was fairly modern, yet quite old-fashioned. The architect had clearly envisioned some ancient culture and attempted to articulate that here, with the lush overhanging drapes, inviting couches and low tables with dim lanterns atop them. Tanya was completely absorbed with the band on the stage. They were playing such beautiful music she found it hard to concentrate on dining and drinking as well as talking to Travis.
"So tell me about Texas, Travis," inquired Tanya after chewing on her food, a delightful mixture of meat and vegetables she couldn't begin to describe.
"Home of the Bounty Hunters," said her companion without looking up from his meal.
A flash of light struck Tanya behind the eyes again, the headache was powerful and intense. "Remember your training, soldier!" said a voice from the shadows. "What are you here to do?" "Who do you work for?" "Tanya? Tanya!"
"Tanya!" said Travis shaking the girl by the shoulder. "You ok? You went blank on me for a minute," he looked worried. Tanya blinked.
"I'm ok. I just get these headaches. They're hard to manage sometimes," she took a long sip from her glass, then returned to her meal. Travis sat there watching in silence for a few minutes.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked eventually. Tanya hesitated, then her shoulders slumped, as though she was infinitely tired and carrying a burden far too great for her age.
"Well, I keep hearing..voices. Orders. It's confusing. Sometimes I feel that I don't know who I am anymore," Tanya looked up, then down, then back at Travis. "I know things I shouldn't. Do things I didn't know I could do. So confusing." Tanya scolded herself for being so emotional and quickly rubbed her eyes with a napkin.
Travis looked comforting.
"What do these voices say to you about these orders? About whom? Go somewhere? Do something?" he asked.
"I don't know. I feel like I have a mission to complete, but I don't know what it is," Tanya took another sip, realised the glass was empty then refilled it herself. She looked at Travis who shook his head, then filled her glass full emptying the bottle. A passing waiter quickly swept it up and another bottle was set down soon afterwards on their table.
"You must remember something. Anything," pressed Travis, waiting impatiently for the waiter to walk away. "Assassinate? Recover something?"
Tanya shrugged, but kept her eyes on Travis. Something had changed in his speech. He seemed, anxious. Intense.
"I only fight in self-defence. I am no murderer!" she said firmly, looking straight at him.
A voice whispered in her mind; 'Murderer, Murderer, Murderer'. Tanya went very cold. Her instincts told her something wasn't right. The girl finished her glass and made to stand up. Travis stood up also, now smiling.
"I have to use the restroom. Bio. I'll be right back," she said smiling too. Travis nodded, but the movement was edgy. He took her hand and kissed it.
"Sure. You bet. I'll be right here. Don't be too long or your dessert will go missing!" he laughed. She waved and walked away towards the direction of the female restrooms. She increased her pace and noticed out the corner of her eye a couple of men at the bar watching her. She would have thought nothing of it, but noticed another pair of men sitting in a booth near the stage. They were talking, but not looking at each other.
Something was up.
Just before Tanya reached the door to the restroom, a waiter walked over to her.
"Excuse me, miss? Are you a pilot with Orbital Spa & Cruise?" he asked. He was carrying a silver tray with a note on it.
"Yes," said Tanya. "Can I help you?"
"Is your name Tanya? Tanya Williams?" Tanya looked around for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes. What's the matter?"
"I have a message for you," replied the waiter and presented the tray with the note. She took the note and the waiter walked away back to the bar.
The message read:
Tanya, I hope you are safe. You are in great danger. We were ambushed. Someone is trying to kill you. Leave Freeport 9 ASAP and head to Omega-41. I will meet you at Freeport 5. Kenji
'Kenji!' thought Tanya, almost saying his name aloud. How did he know where she was? She rushed to the restroom, splashed water on her face and thought quickly. She had to get out. And be back within eight hours. That was when the Orbital Spa group were planning to return to the Hawaii. And what to make of Travis? She would have to distract him, then make her exit quickly. Tanya looked at her watch, thirty minutes before her Eagle would be ready. It would take just as long to reach the hangar. Her mind was racing. A group of women then walked in chattering amongst themselves.
Tanya's eyes brightened.
___
Outside, unseen by Tanya, her companion Travis nodded at the two pairs of men seated elsewhere in the bar. He'd taken a long route to reach the diner, by which time his men had set themselves up at various points, preventing any possible escape. He almost balked at the idea of having to kill the girl. She was extremely attractive. Such a waste, he thought. Maybe he could 'borrow' her for a while before taking her back to LPI.
"Oh well, a job is a job," he murmured to himself. Travis reached under his jacket and primed his blaster, setting the charge to maximum. He watched several people walk in and out of the restroom corridor and was getting impatient. What was taking Tanya so long? After ten minutes, he nodded to one of the men at the bar. He got up and walked over to the restroom corridor, disappearing inside. A few moments later he ran back out into view.
"She's gone!" he shouted into his comm. Travis' eardrum nearly burst. "There's no-one in here!". Travis swore and rose to his feet, then ran to the ladies' restroom. He barged aside a few hapless diners and shoved the door open pulling his sidearm ready.
It was silent, except for the sound of a dripping tap.
Travis walked up to each cubicle kicking the door of each one open. Nothing.
"Damn! Find her! She can't have got far!" Travis cursed inwardly. He could hear his men rushing around the diner and outside searching for her. How did this happen? He cast his mind back, trying to remember the events previously and ran back out into the diner. Precious minutes were being wasted. Travis ran back into the restroom again, his eyes suddenly growing cold, then smashed a mirror with the butt of his gun. Lying bunched up on top one of the cubicle walls was an item of clothing. A jumpsuit.
___
Breathing hard, Tanya ran at full speed along the corridors towards the main hangars.
She tore off the hat she wore throwing it to the ground and let her moistened hair down. The skirt she was wearing was far too small, so she ripped it along the length of her left thigh to allow more freedom of movement. It was a nerve-wracking few minutes of her life, she asked the group if she could borrow some clothes to avoid an incredibly obnoxious date, the girls happily obliged offering various items of clothing that Tanya had gratefully put on in place of her single-piece jumpsuit. They offered to walk out together placing her in the middle. Luckily, Tanya wasn't particularly tall or short so it was a relatively smooth journey out to the street. Once around a corner, she bid her farewells and began her mad dash to her Eagle.
___
Ten minutes later, Tanya was strapped into the cockpit of her Eagle. The powerful VHF was equipped with the latest Zoner tech, Fury3 photon cannons, a Cannonball missile launcher and Advanced Debilitator completed the load-out, along with a full complement of mines and countermeasures. Tanya thanked the maintenance engineers and requested permission to leave the station.
"Freelancer, Alpha, T, Zero-Four-Five. You are cleared for take-off. Good luck out there," announced Docking Control.
Tanya checked her nav map. It was a short flight galactic west of Freeport 9, to an asteroid field. Then through a jump hole to Omega-41. It wouldn't be long before she would see Kenji again, and they could all travel back home.
___
"Has she taken off?" asked Travis. He was watching his nav map in his ship.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Good. Have our ships rendezvous at the designated co-ordinates. The girl should be almost there by now. I think our little ruse has worked. All women have soft spots. Tell our local Bounty Hunter contacts that a wanted felon is on the run and travelling through the area. I'm transmitting her picture and ID signature now." Travis pressed a number of buttons, a beep indicated his transmission had succeeded.
"Tanya Ramirez? She's an Outcast assassin? You sure about this, Carter?" asked the man on the comms incredulously. "These Outcasts are a dangerous bunch. Even if your plan succeeds in isolating her from the other Orbital Spa pilots, they are capable pilots on their own."
"I know what I'm doing. I've been tracking her group of killers for nine months now. She's the last one left. And I'm taking her down. That million credit bounty is all mine."
"She never seemed that dangerous to me. You sure we have the right person?"
Travis considered this.
"No doubt. She is the right target. Except, she may have forgotten who she is. God only knows what they did to her on Cambridge. Get moving. I'll see you space."
___
(cont'd)
Edited : Italics are great!
Edited by - Athena on 9/29/2004 7:45:37 AM
Edited by - Athena on 9/29/2004 7:54:23 AM