“Welcome to your new home, Starn,” he said, his tone upbeat. “You’re going to be here for a while.”

  With that, he slammed the door behind me. Jailors approached and began the long process of inducting me into Borag’s infamous detention center.

  I ended up in a high-tech prison cell. It was a far cry from the traditional metal bars and concrete walls. The walls were made of a reinforced transparent alloy, which allowed the guards to monitor a prisoner at all times. The corners of the room were rounded, making it impossible to hide from view. The floor was an unpleasant, non-slip material that provided no comfort or warmth.

  The interrogation room, situated just adjacent to my prison cell, was equally intimidating. A single, sleek metallic table stood in the center of the room. The table was surrounded by a cluster of chairs that seemed to be molded from the same material.

  A series of advanced holographic consoles were mounted on the walls. These displayed real-time data on the prisoner being interrogated.

  After cooling my tailpipe in the cell for a time, I saw a bunch of nerds walk into the interrogation room and start configuring it. Eventually, they invited me to join them as the main attraction.

  “What if I refuse to cooperate?” I asked a bald guy with a forked beard.

  He looked excited. “We have options. We haven’t had a resistant subject in a long time—are you feeling rebellious?”

  Two Green Company thugs shuffled near. They pulled out their shock-rods and cranked them up. There was an excited light in their eyes.

  “No,” I said untruthfully.

  In actual fact, I wanted to pull the interrogator’s bald head off—probably while using his weird beard as a handle.

  “Too bad… Sign here.”

  He showed me a datapad with a pulsing oval of light in the bottom corner. I knew I was supposed to press my thumb down there. Just to mess with him, I used my left hand. The thumb was abnormally large.

  The machine took a while, but it finally beeped and recognized me.

  “Good software,” I commented.

  “We have pride in our equipment—and our work. This way, Sergeant.”

  As I entered the interrogation room, I found I didn’t like the look of the mind-probing device. This thing wasn’t your everyday lie detector. It was a sophisticated machine capable of reading neural activity and even conjuring vivid videos based on memories in the subject’s brain.

  Known as a Cerebral Link, the machine resembled a smooth metallic helmet with an array of sensors and nodes. These snaked out and attached themselves to specific points on the subject’s head. Once activated, it could access the deepest recesses of the mind, searching for hidden truths and uncovering buried secrets.

  Another device, the Emotional Amplifier, was on hand. It was a small, handheld gadget with a screen displaying the subject’s emotional state. When pressed against the temple, it would amplify the emotions, making it nearly impossible for them to maintain a poker face or lie convincingly.

  The room itself was cold and sterile, and an aura of menace seemed to emanate from every corner. I felt a hard knot grow in my guts. It was a nasty feeling, knowing these terrifying devices were about to be used on me. I hoped to hell and back the truth would be enough to convince these ghouls of my innocence.

  As they prepared to subject me to the mind-probe experience, I tried not to think about what was coming—but that was almost impossible to avoid. I’d heard rumors about these devices, but I’d never imagined I would be on the receiving end of this kind of bullshit.

  The guards roughly strapped me to the metal chair. I flexed my left arm, and I thought I might be able to snap the restraints—maybe. But of course, I didn’t try.

  Next, they secured the Cerebral Link helmet onto my head. Cold metal sensors pressed against my temple.

  Commander Kaine made an appearance when they finally were done preparing their gizmos. He stood in the far corner of the room. There was a monitoring station there, which threw up holographic displays while an interrogator operated the devices directly.

  The moment the Cerebral Link activated, I felt a strange tingling sensation throughout my brain. This was quickly followed by a sudden rush of images. What the hell was that…?

  Memories. My memories. They were flooding my mind. It was as if I were dreaming about my day—but I was fully awake. At least, I thought I was…

  The interrogator began asking me questions in a monotone. His words intruded upon my thoughts. With each question, the device delved deeper into my brain. It pulled out relevant moments from my past. Freakish images were displayed on the holographic screens for everyone to see.

  They weren’t real memories. Not exactly. If I was talking to Freya, for example, it would appear to be a girl, but she was warped and hard to recognize. Freya wasn’t Freya in this reconstruction of what I’d experienced. She was just a generic female crewmember.

  The whole thing was so disorienting and invasive. It was as if my very soul was being laid bare for their inspection.

  It went on and on. The interrogators were relentless, cycling through the same questions and memories over and over again. They were obviously trying to catch any inconsistency or hidden truth that might be squatting inside my skull somewhere.

  Eventually, they moved on to a new horror.

  “This is the Emotional Amplifier,” said the bald guy with the forked beard. There was a sense of pride in his voice. I got the feeling they didn’t often get to use this gizmo.

  They shaved a few spots on my scalp clean for this one. It looked like a clutching, skeletal hand. The fingers rattled as they were placed on the new bald spots they’d made on my head.

  Fork-beard pressed an actuator—and everything changed.

  I felt a sudden surge of emotions—fear, anger, and sadness—and all of these were amplified to an unbearable intensity. I could no longer maintain my composure. My body sweated, and my muscles jumped under my skin. My teeth came out, baring themselves the way a stray dog might snarl at a stranger’s touch.

  They began asking their repetitive questions again. About the airlock, about Anderson—everything. In spite of the psychological torment, I clung to the truth, repeating the same answers over and over. I was still hoping they’d eventually see I was innocent.

  “Well, that’s it,” said one of the operators. “You can rinse and spit, Starn.” They laughed. “Here’s a little something to help you relax.”

  I felt a sting and a cold sensation. An injection?

  Beginning to relax, I breathed evenly. It was over! The bald guy had said so. I was sooo happy it was over…

  Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, my interrogators had deemed themselves satisfied with my responses.

  Grateful that the ordeal had passed, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 18: Unwavering Loyalty

  I awoke with a pounding headache an unknown time later. Pain echoed through my skull. What had happened?

  The Green Company interrogators stood nearby. By their expressions, I figured they were annoyed with me. Clearly, they hadn’t found the answers they were looking for.

  Looking up at a clock, I realized it was several hours after I’d drifted off to sleep. Had they lied to me when they’d said it was over? What had these fiends been up to while I was slumped and drooling on this table?

  I didn’t feel rested. Quite the opposite.

  One of them sneered at me. “Well, that was a frigging waste of time. If there was one bright spot, it had to be that pirate girl… I’m thinking of looking her up myself. What was her name?”

  “Ana,” said another guy with a smirk.

  “Ah, right. Ana. She sounds like a hot date.”

  The two of them laughed, but they’d made a mistake. These off-handed remarks sparked rage in my heart. My anger surged to uncontrollable levels. Could that be due to the emotion-enhancer thing? I didn’t know, and right now, I didn’t care.

  I lost it. Using my powerful left arm, I tore through their restraints as if they were made of paper.

  The interrogators reacted quickly, activating some kind of shock device—but I was beyond caring. The pain only fueled my rage. I lunged at the one who had insulted Ana, grabbing him by the collar and hurling him into a nearby wall. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

  The other interrogator, realizing the situation had spiraled out of control, backed away slowly. His hands were raised in surrender.

  By that time, two Green Company goons had gotten up off their duffs and rushed into the interrogation chamber. They came at me snarling with uplifted batons. I put a foot into one man’s chest, throwing him into the second guy. That gave me enough time to rip the restraints off my right arm.

  Operators were crawling away, bleating. I kicked them in the ass and went for the Green Company thugs.

  It was a fight. I’ll have to give them that—but I was the only one who walked out of that room on two feet.

  “You bloody fool!” the day officer stormed at me. “You were released. It was over! You didn’t have to wreck the place!”

  I shrugged. “Your men made some jokes about my girlfriend. They liked what they saw in my memories, apparently.”

  He winced and grunted. “That is against regulations, but it doesn’t give a Red Company animal like you the right—”

  “Take it up with my commander, Lt. Quinn.”

  “I plan on doing so, Sergeant. Now, get out of here. You’ve been cleared of treason—but there will be liability issues about your conduct. Blackwood will hear of it.”

  Of all his threats, that one was the most credible. Blackwood would rather have me beat a dozen Green Company losers to unconsciousness than lose a credit on a piece of sophisticated machinery.

  I signed myself out and left. At least, I was satisfied that I’d made my point.

  A headache now accompanied my bad mood. I marched up to the upper decks, my anger still simmering, and I immediately went to check on the captain.

  When I approached her, she noticed my presence and motioned me to come closer. We stepped aside to talk privately.

  “I just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you while I was being probed by those laughing ghouls,” I explained in a harsh whisper.

  Captain Hansen studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “Starn… you aren’t losing your sense of professionalism in this assignment, are you?”

  I blinked a few times, puzzling out what she meant. Then, I got it. “Oh… no ma’am. I just figured they might choose this moment of weakness to get to you.”

  She seemed bemused. “I’m not that fragile—but I’m also glad you take your duties seriously. I’m sorry you had to go through that process, Starn. I didn’t want that to happen, but we had to follow procedure. I hope you understand.”

  Her brief apology came as a surprise, but it was certainly warranted, considering all the shit I’d gone through. I nodded, and I felt my anger subsiding.

  “Um… Captain? There might be some damages reported. They used this machine, see… it was called an Emotional Amplifier.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well… it worked. Too well, maybe.”

  She did a little checking, and she seemed impressed. “There are a number of men in sickbay that would agree with you.”

  She glanced at my swollen left arm. “Perhaps they should avoid using that particular device when questioning a man of your… attributes.”

  “That would be a good idea, ma’am.”

  “Very well. Carry on.”

  We stepped apart, but I stayed near her. Within minutes, a bald guy with a forked beard showed up. He seemed disheveled and upset. He was the Green Company mind-probe man, and he had two thugs at his back. All of them held shock-rods and cuffs, and none of them were smiling.

  They moved in my direction with purpose, and I moved to meet them. Just as we were about to get into it, the captain stepped in between us.

  “Enough,” she said firmly, her eyes locked on the mind-probe man. “Did you find any definitive evidence implicating Sergeant Starn in any crime?”

  “We’ve got plenty of evidence. Lenny still hasn’t regained consciousness. The interrogation table has been damaged beyond repair. I’ve got video of the whole thing!”

  Captain Hansen glanced my way, but she didn’t seem reproachful. Instead, she seemed impressed.

  Her eyes slid back to the angry Green Company goon. “Sergeant Starn has been reinstated to his duties as my personal bodyguard, effective immediately.”

  The mind-probe man hesitated in confusion. He wasn’t a happy camper, but he knew better than to defy the captain. At last, he gave her a curt nod and walked away. When the captain wasn’t looking, he flipped me off, and I returned the favor.

  I hadn’t made any new friends down on the Green Company deck today—but I didn’t much care. There had never been a lot of love and kisses shared between Red and Green.

  Captain Hansen marched away and I followed. When she stepped onto the bridge again, someone noticed and called everyone to attention. After she set them at ease, they turned back to their stations.

  Accountant Blackwood approached with a finger that was up and shivering in my direction. Captain Hansen cut him off before he could launch into a predictable tirade. “Starn is back on duty,” she told him. “He’s to have free run of the bridge.”

  “But… ma’am,” Blackwood protested. “He’s caused nearly a million credits worth of damage—”

  “A million? I doubt it. If we have so much invested in Green Company, it was a poor choice, anyway.”

  “But who is going to pay for—?”

  “Green Company mishandled the situation. It’s their problem, and all liabilities will fall upon their budget.”

  Blackwood’s face squirmed. Finally, he nodded. He didn’t mind that kind of solution. As long as someone paid—and that someone wasn’t his department or the ship’s general fund—he was happy. I was pretty sure Kaine would feel differently when he found out about the arrangement, however.

  Blackwood melted away. Lt. Gavinson approached us next. He and I hadn’t always gotten along, so he avoided my eye.

  “There are many classified conversations going on up here, Captain,” he said. “It’s inappropriate—and probably illegal—to have a marine grunt standing around all day on this deck.”

  Captain Hansen mulled that over. “Very well. Raise his clearance to Alpha-level. That’s your job—or Kaine’s. Make it happen—and thanks for the suggestion.”

  Red-faced, Lt. Gavinson shut up and retreated in defeat. I guess even he could figure out when he had lost an argument.

  I had to admit, I liked Captain Hansen’s conflict-resolution style. If you complained too much, she made it your problem. It was a highly effective method of making problems—and complainers—vanish.

  “All right everyone, it’s time to get back to work. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us to Ganymede.”

  The officers kept giving me the evil eye, but most of them said nothing. I could feel their scrutiny. Playing the part of the captain’s loyal muscle again, I wondered which of these simps I could trust, and which of them were thinking about mutiny.

  Several hours later, I was fighting not to yawn about once a minute when a call came in from deep space.

  There was a commotion at the comms station. A hologram appeared above it.

  Captain Hansen’s face turned serious as she noted the intrusion and moved to face it. I followed her, stepping closer to the holotable to have a look for myself.

  What we saw there was an unpleasant surprise. A ghastly head and shoulders leered at us from the center of the table. The detail and resolution were so precise, it looked as real as if the pirate were crouching in our midst.

  The hologram above the center console rotated slightly, revealing the identity of the disembodied head. It was Redgrave, the cyborg space pirate leader we’d encountered at Proxima Centauri over a year ago.

  The face, all by itself, was disgusting. The right side bore the marks of a gruesome injury. Redgrave’s skin and bone had been replaced with cold, gleaming metal. The metallic half of it was a patchwork of steel and chrome. The metal formed a prosthetic that seemed to blend seamlessly with the remaining organic tissue.

  The mechanical eye was the worst. It stared out from an unyielding metal socket and glowed with an eldritch blue light. It was devoid of any warmth or humanity. Redgrave moved it constantly, scanning his surroundings and analyzing our bridge and personnel.

  “What a surprise…” Redgrave said. He spotted Captain Hansen, and a smirk immediately sprang up on his scarred face. “If it isn’t my old friends from Borag. I’ve got a message for you, Captain.”

  “And what would that be?” she asked.

  Redgrave leaned back, or at least gave the impression of doing so, as his holographic head tilted slightly. “It seems my comrades at 944 Hidalgo have vouched for your vessel… and yes, I’m as astounded by that as you are. They’re telling me not to destroy your little ship—as much as I’d like to.”

  The air on the command deck grew tense, and I could see the other officers exchanging worried glances. The captain, though, held her ground. “And why would they say that?”

  Redgrave’s grin widened, revealing a row of crooked teeth. “Now, that’s the interesting part, isn’t it? Seems they’ve got a bit of a soft spot for miners, those who pathetically scratch at rocks that don’t belong to them. Or maybe they just don’t like the idea of someone else taking you out. Either way, it’s a curious development.”

  Captain Hansen’s face remained inscrutable, but I could see the gears turning behind her eyes. “We appreciate the warning, Redgrave,” she said slowly, weighing each word carefully. “But don’t think this changes anything between us.”

  Redgrave laughed. The sound seemed to be synthesized, and it was definitely unsettling. “Oh, don’t you worry, Captain. I still fully intend to kill you all someday. But for now, it seems we have some... common interests.”

  “I doubt that,” Hansen scoffed.

  Redgrave’s mechanical eye flicked back and forth between Captain Hansen and me, the eerie blue light casting a cold glow on our faces.