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"Code of Honor"
Rating: PG-13 And Malcolm finds that stubbornness might not be enough against the effects of the metracel-blue. What’s he going to do? I expanded on Travis's connection with Mona and Ophelia in this chapter and modified the ending a bit. And if there seems to be a lot of takeovers concerning the Consortiums, that's because they're being seized one by one and being brought under Mariko Asagawa (Tanaka's cousin's) and the Vega Consortium's heel. So the stakes have been upped a lot...our heroes MUST find Paul and Philippe. Thirteen Again, Malcolm was impressed at Travis’s connections among the Boomers. In less than a day, Travis had acquired clothing and identities of rogue traders for himself, Malcolm and Hoshi. The three of them headed for the Draylaxian open-air markets that were just off the main spaceport launch pads. Travis had a list of specific components in hand...components that could possibly be used in the manufacture of metracel-blue. “Ah, I have some Ndaian spice in stock,” said Heiliaia, a curvaceous Draylaxian woman. She blinked her long lashes at both men and ignored Hoshi’s pointed glare. “What do you have to trade for it?” “Thrallian silver, fifty grams,” Travis replied, pitching his voice low as if he was concerned about eavesdroppers. “The pure stuff, good for a kick in your engines when you need to make a quick getaway, if you know what I mean.” Her eyes widened in pleasure. “I’ll need to inspect it, of course.” “Of course. I wouldn’t blame you; seems like everyone’s out to stiff their customers for an extra credit or two.” Travis tossed her a tiny bottle filled with shiny gray grains. Heiliaia uncorked it, sniffed it, poured a precious grain in the palm in her hand. Her eyes widened as the silver began smoking. “I believe we have a deal, then, young one.” “The Ndaian spice?” She reached into her shirt and withdrew a red drawstring pouch. With a casual smile, she tossed it to Travis. He undid the string, sniffed the contents, then grinned. “A pleasure doing business with you.” “And with you.” Heiliala stepped a pace closer to him until they were practically nose to nose. “If you’re inclined, I will be here until the nooning. Draylaxian women are known for their skill in the ‘lovely arts’. I would be willing to give you a private lesson or two.” Malcolm began to sweat; the pheremones rose up around him and made his head swim. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he felt a painful pinch on his arm and looked in that direction. Hoshi was giving him one of THOSE looks that made him reconsider his options. “Perhaps,” Travis said, with one of his brilliant smiles. “I’ll keep the offer in mind.” The three of them walked away from the Draylaxian’s tent; Travis turned and winked saucily at her to cover their hasty escape. When they were a good distance away, Travis leaned against a stone column to regain his equilibrium. “You all right, Travis?” Hoshi asked, concerned. “Yeah, but I’d better let you hang on to this, Hoshi.” He placed the Ndaian spice in her palm. “No need to get me or Malcolm any loopier than usual.” Malcolm chose to ignore the friendly insult. Ndaian spice tended to affect hormones in the brain, especially in males. “Is it that easy to pick up anything you want in these markets?” “Pretty much, as long as you’ve got something valuable to trade,” Travis replied, his face becoming sober. “I was chatting with Heilala while you and Hoshi were distracted by the weaponry bazaar. She said that if we wanted to know who’s the main information source in the markets, it’s a woman named Ophelia Obersky.” “Human?” Malcolm asked. “Yup. She used to work with Thea Brunswicke on the Lysander, then formed her own shipping company out of Miradon. Usually, you don’t seek her out; she comes to you. I put in a word with Heilala; if Ofee’s the same woman, it won’t take her long to find me.” Travis shrugged and said, “Come on. Let’s see if we can find more information while we’re waiting.” They spent the morning browsing the markets. Hoshi conversed with several traders and stall-keepers in their native language, while Malcolm talked shop with gunrunners and out-of-work mercenaries. Travis swapped stories and traded information with old contacts in the Draylaxian marketplace. Malcolm had worked undercover in the gunrunner ranks before; that gave him a distinct edge with them. Unlike Captain Archer, he took a pragmatic look of the universe because he’d seen what desperate people would do in desperate times. Sometimes, it wasn’t pretty. Travis was correct; he could find and purchase anything he wanted, as long as it was for the right price. In fact, Malcolm was tempted to purchase several wicked-looking blasters that were "on discount". The dealer even threw in some free ammunition into the deal. Malcolm selected the smallest (and most concealable) of the lot; it would have been suspicious if he didn't purchase a thing. He became aware of a tickling sensation in the back of his throat. Even a quick swig of kassa juice failed to soothe it. The feeling spread down his neck and into his lungs. Malcolm clamped down on his panic and extricated himself from the conversation he was in, then went to find Hoshi. She had just purchased a bolt of red Triaxian silk with gold threads embedded within it. Hoshi turned with a smile, but it faded when she saw his expression. “I think we’d better get back as quickly as possible,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m not feeling well.” “Let’s find Travis,” Hoshi replied. She looked around to see Travis talking with a flame-haired woman dressed in Boomer clothing. He beckoned them closer; Hoshi put a steadying hand on her husband’s arm as they went to his side. “This is Mona, Ofee’s twin sister,” Travis introduced her. “She’ll take us to Ofee herself. She’s got a busy schedule, but she said she’ll make some room for old friends.” Mona Obersky peered at Malcolm with sharp blue eyes, then before anyone could react, she stepped up to his side. There was a small hiss of a hypospray, then Malcolm found himself able to breathe freely again. Hoshi looked ready to kill the woman, but Mona spoke to her in a low voice. “Do you want him to die? I know the symptoms of metracel-blue withdrawal. I gave him enough to take the edge off without clouding his thinking processes.” “We were trying to wean him off the stuff,” Hoshi said coldly. “No such thing,” Mona retorted, just as coldly. “Once you have a taste of it, you never get rid of it. Never. Eventually, we all die; it just differs in the manner. If you want him to live for now, then believe me, short-term solutions are your best option.” Travis stepped between the two. “That’s enough, Mona. Hoshi, take Malcolm back. I’ll go with her.” “No,” Malcolm said. “I’m feeling better. It’s best we stay together.” “Malcolm,” Hoshi said, a note of warning in her voice. Mona smirked. “My twin’s proposal was quite specific, Travis. Either she sees all three of you, or she won’t talk. Your choice.” “All right, all three of us,” Travis said, still eyeing Malcolm with suspicion. “C’mon, let’s go see Ofee. Lead the way, Mona, but if you betray us, I’ll personally shoot you in the back.” “Good to see you still have your Boomer instincts, Travis,” she said mildly. “Let’s go.” Malcolm muttered under his breath, “And everyone thinks I’m paranoid?” Mona took them to the Yakatui Tavern, one of the largest establishments adjoining the marketplace. She walked up to the bar, and after a whispered conversation, pressed a token into the barkeep’s hand. The Andorian filled a mug with one hand and gestured Mona and the others through a beaded curtain with the other. “Reminds me of a café I visited in Morocco,” Hoshi mused, as they all took in the warm colors of the walls and furnishings. Unlike the native Draylaxians, who preferred cool blues, greens and purples, the candles glowed orange in their sconces, and the walls and floor were draped in red and yellow bands of Triaxian silk. They walked up a stairway and down another corridor, which opened up into a room the size of the conference room on Enterprise. Sitting crossed-legged on a huge pillow was Ophelia Obersky. She was a near-duplicate of her twin, Mona, except Ophelia had dyed her hair black, as opposed to Mona’s red. It was the only way to tell the two apart. “Travis Mayweather. I’m glad to see you’ve come back to the Boomers at last,” Ophelia said in a musical voice. She got to her feet and extended her hands, which Travis took within his own. Ophelia was about an inch shorter than Hoshi, and that was with the high-heeled boots. Unlike Mona, Ophelia favored a lounging gown of deepest midnight. “And you look like you’ve been prosperous,” Travis said with a slight smile. “Good deals?” “Like you’ve never imagined. I could retire if I wanted to, but you know the saying, ‘You can take the Boomer out of space, but not the space out of the Boomer.’ Besides, I have to keep an eye on my investments. I find it interesting that you choose this time to come back to the fold.” “Oh?” “There’s profit to be made, Travis, and you’ve always struck me as less conservative than your brother. Paul told me that you’d considered working for Philippe Trieste at one time...is that still true?” Malcolm realized that Paul had concocted a cover story in order to allow Travis access to Ophelia’s contacts. It was interesting that Paul had thought that far ahead; perhaps the younger Mayweather was more shrewd than Malcolm had given him credit for. “At one time, yeah. I captained one of Old Man Trieste's RH-900s for a little while. Malcolm, here—“ Travis regarded him with a smile, “considered a position with the Centauri Security Force when we were there—“ “Ah, one of Comte de Jeunier’s people.” Ophelia chuckled and shrugged. “A good man, definitely on our side, and any friend of the Comte is a friend of mine, especially one with the rank of Deputy Commandant. And your wife, I presume?” She bowed to Hoshi and said something in Japanese. Hoshi replied in a stiff and formal voice. “Don’t worry, Hoshi-san, I always take good care of my guests’ every need.” Ophelia gestured to the ring of pillows. “Please, sit, everyone. Mona, Daryl is here, and he has the supplies you asked for.” “Thank you, Ofee.” Mona kissed her sister’s cheek, then exited through another door in the opposite wall. Ophelia watched her go with a fond expression. “She’s still your right-hand woman in your company, I presume,” Travis said, as he took the pillow next to Ophelia. “She’s always been good at finding out-of-the-way things.” Ophelia laughed. “Yes, and with the new trade routes opening up in Colonial space, she’s become more important to me than ever. You know the deal with family bonds, Travis.” Then she immediately sobered. “That’s why I understand why you seek your brother. Thea has him on her ship; she believes he could be a bargaining chip in the upcoming trade talks. She doesn’t want to cede any power back to Paul; she’s become quite comfortable with whom she’s been in bed. Literally and figuratively, I mean.” Travis winced. “Time changes people. Ofee, can you help me find Paul?” “I can do more than that. I can provide you with the names of all of Thea’s contacts in the mertracel-blue runs to Alpha Centauri and Vega.” She glanced at Hoshi and Malcolm. “I’ve had my share of arguments with Philippe, but I don’t want to see Sumiko Tanaka’s cousin taking over the Colonies. She’s already had Aldeberan and Draylax in a mertracel-blue fog, and I’m suspecting she wants EdML as well.” "I take it you want something in return?" Ophelia laughed again. "You wound me, Travis. Do you think I'd be so greedy after everything your family has done for me and my sister?" "Just asking, considering the way business is made nowadays." The smile faded from her face. "Just help me break Thea's hold on the metracel-blue runs. She's the one who provided the drug to Philippe, to Ravi Nandjani, and to many other Consortium heads." She glanced sideways at Malcolm and added, "Too many good people have fallen under its influence, some of them involuntarily. We don't need something like this in our space trade." Travis nodded. "Agreed. Though--" "What?" "I've never seen you as a crusader, Ofee." Ophelia grinned, showing teeth as white as Travis's own. "Unlike my namesake, I'm not a weak, wishy-washy female who's dominated by her father, goes nuts, and drowns herself in a lake with her hair 'spread round like petals of a flower'." Hoshi suddenly matched the grin as she commented, "Ophelia, from Shakespeare's 'Hamlet'. Then, I presume 'Mona' is short for 'Desdemona'." Ophelia nodded and rolled her eyes. "My grandfather was a noted Shakespearean scholar at the University of Alpha Centauri. To satisfy the old tyrant, dear old Dad named his offspring after characters in the plays. My brothers are Laertes, Yorick and Duncan. Too bad Lady MacBeth never had a first name, or I'd probably have gotten that instead." "And that's why Thea Brunswicke named her ship the Lysander," Malcolm mused. "From 'A Midsummer's Night Dream'." "Exactly correct, Commandant Reed." Ophelia leaned forward and waved a hand over the low table in front of her; it stopped pretending to be rosewood and became a black screen. "Speaking of the Lysander, here is the latest information we have on her whereabouts--" A chirp interrupted them, and Ophelia drew out a Draylaxian communicator. A soft voice said something in Draylaxian, and she whispered a reply. After she closed the circuit, she said, “My people have located Thea’s Lysander. It’s traveling in tandem with the Schwarzwald and the Lady Ameratsu.” Travis and Malcolm exchanged glances. Bernhard Mueller and Johannes Birkenwald were undercover on the Schwarzwald. If they had rendezvoused with Lysander, both men were possibly in danger. “I understand you’re traveling with my old friend Sandosh. Perhaps I can be of service as well. My Dante is just as fast as his Vhrum and we can intercept the Lysander before she reaches Vega.” Ophelia’s expression remained grim, but her eyes glittered. “I have a personal score to settle with Thea as well, Travis, and I refuse to let an opportunity slip by.” Malcolm’s mouth moved in a smirk. “You have this all planned, don’t you.” Ophelia smiled back and replied, “Of course. You, as a master strategist, can appreciate that.” Suddenly, Hoshi frowned and looked back towards the entrance of the room. “What is it, Hoshi?” Travis asked her. Then they all heard it: faint yelling, sounds of weapons fire, market stands collapsing. Mona reappeared, her hair mussed and a bruise forming on her left cheek. “The Draylaxian authorities have moved against the Marketplace, Mona. We have to get out of here.” “What?” Travis burst out. He turned pale. “Mom! She’s still with Ju’reel—“ Then his own communicator went off. "Mayweather." "Lieutenant," came Phlox's voice, "your mother and I are currently on the Vhrum with Captain Sandosh. Ju'reel and his half-brother have requested protection from the Boomers. They're with us." And in the background, Sandosh said, "Captain Travis, we have to lift off now! What is your position? We can rendezvous with you and pick you up--" Mona shook her head, and Travis said, "Belay that, Sandosh. We'll arrange our own transportation out of here. Just get Mom and Ju'reel off Draylax. We'll catch up to you when we can." Rhianna protested, "Travis, I'm not leaving you--" "Mom, we're going after Paul. They're expecting you on Vega. Don't worry, I'll get Paul back." "You be careful. I'm not losing you too." Travis shook his head. "You're not gonna lose me too, Mom. Take care and I'll see you soon. Mayweather, out." Malcolm helped Hoshi to her feet, as he fought another wave of nausea. They were separated not only from Rhianna Mayweather, but Phlox and Captain Sandosh as well, which meant he might be at the mercy of the metracel-blue withdrawal symptoms. It wasn’t the greatest of situations, but he didn’t want to think about what might happen if he, Travis and Hoshi were captured. “All right,” Travis muttered. “Let’s go. Malcolm, Hoshi—?” “Right behind you, Travis.” Hoshi said. She helped support Malcolm on one side, and Mona on the other. Mona was about to fish another hypospray from her jacket pocket, but Malcolm waved her off. “Not yet,” he whispered hoarsely, “not while I can still function, as long as I can.” Mona nodded, but murmured, “Don’t play the noble hero, Reed. It will kill you.” He couldn’t help but shrug. Hoshi sighed and rolled her eyes, but refrained from saying anything. |
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