Title : Decisions
Date : 4 January 1998
Series : Upgrade #07
Rating : PG-13

Summary: An ancient ship brings modern trouble.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters nor do I make a claim on them. These characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. Original characters are the sole property of the author.

Upgrade #7
Decisions
By YS McCool

Blair stepped down from the witness stand and was momentarily caught in the blinding light of Miller Hansel's gaze. Taller than Simon, more muscular than Jim, and as evil as he was beautiful; the man terrified Blair.

"Doctor Sandburg, are you all right?" the judge asked softly.

Blair broke eye contact with Hansel. "Yes, Your Honor." He made his way to his seat, knowing that the ex-Retrieval Officer was watching his every step.

The judge turned the case over to the jury. Blair was free to go. He shot out of the courtroom like it might fall through the floor at any moment. Reliving the terror, the pain, Jim's idiocy, and his own failures had been more than he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Blair sat down in the small park facing the courthouse. He admired the newly reopened Central Courts Building. It was hard to believe that Denueve's gang had crashed a suborbital ship into the front of it just a few months before.

He had some serious decisions to make. In four months, Jet would be eligible to join the Martian Home Guard, a goal of hers since her youth. Her outstanding career with Retrieval virtually assured her of a place on the elite squad. With that goal within her grasp, could Blair ask her to stay on Earth? Could he follow her to Mars?

He had found a comfort with Jet he had never known with another woman. But was he in love with her? He loved her, cared for her, looked forward to seeing her, and hated it when she couldn't be with him. But was he in love with her? Did he plan on marrying her?

A Martian married for life, as was proper. He knew that someday he wanted children. Did he want Jet to be the mother of those children?

Those were the thoughts he was supposed to be having on his retreat. Instead he had concentrated on just staying alive.

Blair had to do some more thinking. When contemplating a big decision, eliminate some of the outside factors and see if you would be making the same choices. Would he be thinking about marriage if Jet were not going to leave in four months? No, he wasn't ready, and that was the whole thing neatly summarized. He wasn't ready to make that full, lifetime commitment to Jet.

He had committed to his studies, his work, his family, and to Jim, but he wasn't ready to commit to Jet. How could he think about marriage, when he didn't feel the fire in his belly for a life with her that he felt for his work with Jim?

His commitment to that had led him to make some drastic changes in his professional and private life. He had greatly reduced his classroom instruction for the next three semesters. He had also turned down some extremely prestigious fieldwork in favor of staying close to Cascade and Jim. To lessen his hospital work, he had added two other doctors to his staff and four other medical assistants. He had even hired a secretary for Chuck Frazier, his receptionist.

Blair had also funded Chuck's security training, which the younger man had asked for. His run-in with Miller Hansel had convinced Chuck that he needed further training.

"Blair?" Jim called.

Blair looked up. "Yes?"

"Another Big Think?" Jim asked as he moved to stand beside Blair.

"A very Big Think," Blair admitted.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the jury has come back," Jim announced.

"I don't want to go back in, Jim," Blair said firmly.

Jim sat beside his friend. "Are you all right? Are you in some kind of pain?"

"Just a heavy heart, Jim." Blair sighed. "Nothing medical science has been able to do anything about."

"Is there anything I can do?" Ellison asked.

"No, but thanks for asking," Blair patted the larger man's knee.

"I need to be in there for his public statement since I'm the arresting officer." Jim rose smoothly to his feet. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure, Buddy. Give Hansel a good glare for me." Blair attempted a good menacing scowl, but a little kid pointed at him and laughed. At least Jim liked him enough not to laugh at him. "How long do they make you practice that glare?"

"It's the first thing they teach us," Jim explained. "That and how to yell."

Blair smiled. "Go on, I'll be all right."

"Alright." Jim left, pausing several times to look back at Blair.

Blair hopped a train, did some marketing, lamented over the poor showing of the Cascade Otters Tri-ball team with several perfect strangers, sent his mother flowers just because, picked up a potted exotic plant for Jet, sent his father some chocolates with a 'life is short, eat chocolate' note, bought four new books, and headed home. When he arrived at his house, he left the cooking to Hawthorne and sat out in the conservatory under the miniature palm trees with a book, a bottle of wine, a round of cheese, and Sebastian for company. He had read five chapters of the history of space piracy when Hawthorne came to where he was resting.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Doctor Sandburg, but you have a call from the Federal Advocate's office," the butler announced.

"Thank you, Hawthorne." He took the comm-link. "This is Doctor Sandburg."

"Doctor Sandburg, this is Muriel Levert of the Advocate Office of the Justice Department," the woman announced. She was petite, nicely rounded, with laugh lines around her eyes despite her serious manner. "Miller Hansel has requested that you perform the chip removal surgery, which was part of his sentence. We are authorized to either credit your full fees as part of your taxes, donate the same amount to a designated charity, or pay you directly. How would you like the fee handled?"

"I wouldn't," Blair replied, trying not to scream in his rage.

"You wish to donate your services?" Levert asked, sounding surprised.

"No, Advocate Levert, you do not understand. I will not perform the surgery. Neither will I allow anyone on my staff to perform the surgery," Blair informed the woman. "That man tried to kill me, and I fully believe this is just another attempt by him to complete his contract. I wish never to see him, think of him, or see his name on my screen."

"But, Doctor Sandburg, it is his right to have the best surgeon perform this delicate operation. I understand that you would be uncomfortable--"

Blair cut the woman off. "Uncomfortable! Advocate Levert, that man was going to kill me. He shot me several times. It took my doctor seven passes with a regenerator to remove the bruises on my arms from where he had just held me." Blair took a cleansing breath, but it wasn't enough. "No, Advocate Levert, I am not uncomfortable, I'm livid. Find someone else. I have refused."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Doctor Sandburg." Advocate Levert ended the connection.

"I'm letting it go. I'm letting it go," Blair repeated. Even Sebastian didn't believe him, but he did hop up in Blair's lap and bump the underside of Blair's chin with his head. "Thanks, old friend. I'm glad you're on my side."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim came home to find Blair beating the stuffing out of Jim's aggression bag. "Blair?"

"What?" Sandburg continued to pound the unfortunate bag.

"I heard what Hansel tried to pull. I'm sorry," Jim apologized.

Blair hit the bag two more times. "Is it all over the station?"

"Yes," Jim reluctantly admitted.

"Maybe people will stop talking about my lousy shooting now," Blair suggested before he finished off his bag opponent with a Nut-Busters Special kick.

Jim cringed in sympathy for the bag. "Not likely."

Blair sighed. "Well, there's nothing like being comic relief."

"Blair--"

"Save it, Jim. I know what they're saying," Blair said harshly.

"Well, if they could see you beating that bag, they would keep their mouths shut," Ellison said sincerely.

"Oh, yeah," Blair said sarcastically. "I can see them all curled up in the corner, sucking their thumbs, and begging for their fathers."

"Chief, this is all going to blow over soon. You'll see," Jim promised. "Why don't you get cleaned up? We were going to look at APVs tonight."

"Are you excited about looking at all the models?" Blair asked, dropping a towel across his shoulders.

Jim grinned big. "Blair, the thought of cruising the showrooms on someone else's bankroll is a childhood dream come true."

Blair smiled. "Okay, but remember we need to be practical. I need something with speed, good storage, seating for five, a full capacity computer--"

Jim waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah." He put his hands on the smaller man's shoulders and massaged them. "Toy. The word is toy, Blair. Don't you want a toy?"

Blair laughed. "You are so bad, Jim."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Blair signed the forms for the purchase of the overpowered, armored, and top security rated APV. Jim had steered him away from this year's model of the APV he had lost. Every other model had flaws, at least according to Jim.

Ellison had obviously carefully researched all the available models and had his own short list of suitable vehicles for Blair to own.

When they had stopped in front of the Farrell Quantums, Jim had shown signs of love at first sight. They took it for a test flight. Jim called a sky patrol car to give the car a little chase to test its maneuverability. He even haggled over a package deal for all the bells and whistles available for the vehicle with the dealer.

Jim worked harder to get Blair into that car than any woman had ever worked to get into Blair's bed, which put the man in a class of his own in the begging department.

"Now I know you'll be safe," the Sentinel said with satisfaction. "Computer, what do you think of your new body?"

"This is an excellent vehicle. This body exceeds recommended specifications for safety by 225%. My present memory capacity is 4000 times that of my previous host," the computer replied.

Jim frowned, having not gotten the answer he was obviously waiting for. "But do you like the color?" Jim asked.

Blair chuckled.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Daryl was whisked through the gates with minimal fuss because his name was on the 'Please Admit' list to Blair's neighborhood. As he was walking along the street, greeting people by name, he realized how much time he now spent here.

Hawthorne let him in and offered him a snack, which Daryl eagerly accepted. Getting from school to Blair's house was a five-minute stomach-stirring event. He was in yet another growth spurt and that required food. Lots and lots of food.

Blair was running late because of an emergency surgery, so Hawthorne set Daryl up with a copy of the Ellison Clan Meeting, which he had not seen.

After some interviews with the oldest members of the family, there were some complex genealogical charts displayed beside family group shots. Daryl paused on the one of Jim's immediate family.

There was Jim's brother Steven, the megacorp president. He was as tall as Jim, with a more slender build. Jim always referred to his brother as The Pretty Ellison. Steve didn't do anything for Daryl, but he could readily appreciate his handsome face.

Jim's mother, Catherine Grace, a general and the commander of the third largest military base in deep space, was one gorgeous woman. She had a figure women one-third her age would claw and kill for. Catherine was only a little shorter than her sons, blonde, blue-eyed, and had a flawless, wide-mouthed face, and skin that said "woman in her twenties".

His father, Joseph, also a general, and currently assigned to Military Intelligence on Titan Base on Callisto, did look his age, with gray hair, stern, piercing brown eyes, and a beard and mustache. Daryl wondered how you managed a marriage when you were living and working light-years apart.

Jim seemed stiff and uncomfortable around his parents, but relaxed visibly around his younger brother. Blair seemed to have instant friends wherever he went.

Blair's nomination speech for Steven as clan Laird was brilliant; making Steven's economic gains for the family stand out against the other candidates' strictly military backgrounds. Comparing Steven to the heroes of the Great American Tax Revolt, 2018-2020, was a stroke of genius. Even today, the phrase IRS was considered too filthy to say in public. Steven was elected.

The rest of the tape covered the festivities. Lots of dancing, storytelling, music, shows of strength, and food. Daryl was surprised to see that Blair was familiar with the dances of Scottish tradition, especially the men-only dances.

"Hi Daryl," Blair called. "Did you leave enough room for dinner?" He pointed to the empty plate beside Daryl's chair.

"I always have room for dinner," Daryl promised as he held up his left and therefore hollow leg. "How's your patient?"

"Fine, I expect a full recovery." Blair set a large package on the desk. He opened the package and whistled.

Daryl walked over to stand beside Blair and examine the strange device. "What's that?"

Blair held the device aloft. "This is a keyboard."

Daryl examined the keyboard. It couldn't be a keyboard. The keys depressed from the top instead of the bottom so that the back of your hands could rest on your legs. Such a design would force the user to hold his hands over the keys, wrists turned in such a way as to cause physical distress. Anyone using such a non-ergonomic design would be subjected to repetition stress. "Blair, no designer would put out a keyboard like this."

"They would in the 21st century," Sandburg responded.

"What?" Daryl was shocked to see an antique this close. He felt he should suit up to prevent his skin and hair from defiling the object.

"The sender claims to have found an intact Sleeper Ship," Blair informed him. "He wants my Foundation to fund the excavation."

"A Sleeper Ship?" Daryl asked, enthralled. He couldn't get much more excited. It was a general consensus that all the lost ships that were going to be found had been found. He had lived long enough to prove them wrong. Fabulous. "That's incredible, Blair. What are you going to do?" Daryl wanted to be in the know, so he could brag shamelessly when it was made public later.

"Examine the site, then assign funds as needed," Blair answered, taking a seat at his impossibly neat desk. Daryl's desktop looked like a hurricane, tsunami, and an earthquake had dueled it out on the surface.

A Sleeper Ship... Which meant that the crew and passengers were frozen for the long, long journey to the stars. "Do you think any of the crew can be revived?" Daryl asked.

"We're almost 100 years past the longest they expected the freezer pods to work," Blair reminded him. Daryl didn't remember what the time limit had been, but naturally Blair did. "No, I don't expect that any of the crew could be revived after all this time. Still, just having the equipment and the ship would be worth quite a lot."

"I wonder what the crew would think if they could be revived?" Daryl asked, finding himself taking a philosophical turn. It seemed to be happening more and more often. He blamed Blair.

"They would probably be very disappointed on how little progress we have made socially, while being awed at some of our progress in technical matters." Blair placed the keyboard back in its packaging. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Daryl fidgeted. "Oh... yeah. I don't know if you can afford it now with the discovery of a Sleeper Ship." Those old ships ran on, get this, nuclear generators. Engines took up most of the ship's bulk, making those early vessels enormous. A modern battle carrier, the largest deep space going ship currently made, could rest on top of one of those old ships with room for two cruisers and about ninety fighters. He couldn't imagine what it would cost to get a ship that big outfitted to be flown or towed.

"What do you need?" Blair prompted, looking at Daryl hopefully.

"I wanted to apply to your Foundation for a fast track scholarship so I could attend the Rainier Accelerated Academic Program for Gifted High School Students." Daryl handed his datapad to Blair. "I passed the entrance exam, but there is no way Dad could ever afford the fees. I had no idea they would be so high. So I thought of your Foundation."

"Daryl, you didn't just pass, you passed with distinction," Blair declared excitedly. "What area do you wish to study?"

"I want to study medicine with a second field of psychic studies," Daryl revealed. "A double specialty, plus my psychic levels and my physical scores, should almost guarantee me a place in the new Far Space civilian programs. I want to be there when we encounter the 'Children of a Single Mind'."

"You don't want to go the military route?" Blair asked. "That would get you there and for free."

"No," Daryl answered firmly. "They'll put me in Intelligence and not Far Space, because I'm a psychic. But if I go in as a civilian specialist, I can request the Far Space program."

"In fifty years, you'll be behind a desk no matter which route you take," Blair reminded him as he needlessly reinforced his mental shields. It was a waste of time. To be truly effective, Blair had to not trust Daryl, which he did. Of course, Daryl would take a bullet before he would betray his friend.

"In *five* years I will still be in school." They looked into each other's eyes. "But I'm sure the new first contact procedures will keep those initial encounters from turning tragic. Yes, I know that Robert's ship design will be a quantum leap over what we currently have in production."

Blair sighed. "They're looking at a two-year shake down flight for the prototype and another six years to build the first full fleet of new ships. You have time."

"Can I get the paperwork started for an application?" Daryl asked.

"No need, my man. Consider yourself a Sandburg Scholar." Blair beamed like a man who had achieved a worthy goal. "What does Simon think about all this?"

"He didn't want me to come to you about this," Daryl admitted. "He wanted me to go through the Foundation office and apply like everyone else."

Blair frowned. "I see."

"He didn't want me to take advantage of you, Blair," Daryl explained, hoping to stop any friction from starting between his friend and his father.

"Daryl, I have practically been lying in wait for you to finish high school so I can steer you down the academic path." Blair clarified. "Are you sure he wasn't disappointed that you didn't want to be a Retrieval Officer?"

"No way. He doesn't want me to be a Retrieval Officer like him, nor a virologist, like Mom was," Daryl assured Blair. "He doesn't like the idea of me being yet another Banks with a dangerous job."

"I've got to ask you one thing. Is this really your life's calling, or do you feel that you owe the 'Children' something because you received their message?" Blair asked, using his 'Doctor with Patient' voice.

"To tell you the truth, Blair, that does play a part in it," Daryl admitted. "But honestly, I never knew exactly what I wanted to do. It was more that I knew what I didn't want to do. I knew that I *didn't* want to be a Retrieval Officer, and the thought of working around space-born viruses gave me the willies, and not just because that's how my mother died. But medicine does appeal to me."

"Medical school takes a lot of concentration and determination," Blair said, obviously remembering his own training.

"Have you ever seen me go after a phone number from a girl?" Daryl asked seriously. "I live in a determined mode."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim was about to kick off his shoes when he saw the emergency call light on his communication panel in his room. He didn't pay rent, so he could afford his own top-of-the-line setup. This kept him from tying up Blair's system.

He had deliberately left his datapad at home so he could enjoy his date with Claudia in some privacy. It had been the right thing to do. The last time they had gone out, he had received two calls and she had received one.

"Open comm link, and retrieve emergency call," Ellison ordered.

"Message retrieved," the Comm system announced. Jim waited for the message. "Connection made."

"Jim, this your father." The stern visage of General Joseph Ellison formed. "Intelligence reports that the Sleeper Ship being recovered by the Sandburg Foundation has Guardian embryos aboard. I don't need to tell you what a target this will make the operation. While the crew may or may not be able to be revived, the embryos' freezing system is rated for another five hundred years. Unfortunately, I can't justify an operation to secure the site unless there is something there besides embryos. Good luck."

Jim was still standing slightly stunned over the message, when the comm system indicated that it had completed a connection with an off-world location.

"Hello, son," Joe Ellison greeted. "I see you finally picked up my message."

"Thank you for calling me about this," Jim said appreciatively.

General Joseph Ellison smiled, it was a rare sight. "I can't let anything happen to Blair, he's a clan member. Besides, I like the guy." Joe lowered his voice. "I can't send personnel, but I can arrange a fast ship. Contact Colonel Dianne Wesley at Earth One, she'll fix you up." He disconnected before any further emotional displays could be witnessed.

Jim flew into action. Guardians were genetically engineered canines that supported early deep space missions. The ultimate search and rescue animals, they were designed to be fast, strong, and intelligent, but no one knew how intelligent these animals would become. They had been designed to learn, and learn they did.

Guardians refused assignments, prevented their young from being placed in military training, and escaped transport ships to live in the wild of planets they had been bred to help subdue.

After two hundred years of service, Guardians were removed from the list of biological support species such as horses. With their newfound status, Guardians gained full determination over their own lives. Like dolphins, man could no longer use Guardians. Taking a Guardian pup was the same as taking a human child, but embryos? What status would frozen three hundred-year-old embryos have?

Jim called Simon. Blair had left three days earlier with Ken Foley, Ken's sister, Michelle, Doctor John Keadle from Rainier's Archaeological department, and Daryl Banks. Jim hadn't been worried because Ken Foley was with them. But Ken didn't know about the trouble that was heading their way.

"Simon, I just got a message from my father that the word is out there are Guardian embryos onboard the Sleeper Ship they found," Jim explained.

"Guardians are protected, what do they hope to do with the embryos?" Simon asked.

"I was in deep space for a long time, Simon. There is a market for those pups. Without parents to teach them any differently, they would be loyal to whoever raised them. I can just imagine the prices that would be paid for pups that will eventually become one of the most feared creatures from Earth." Jim could also imagine the carnage that would surround his friends as thieves fought to get those embryos.

"Is your father launching a mission?" Simon asked hopefully.

"No," Jim responded, disheartened. The military could be there within a few hours and nobody would get past them. "There is no military angle to this, so no help from them."

"I'll call Joel," Simon reported. "A kidnapping attempt against Guardian pups is a serious charge, especially since most juries tend to think in the area of slavery when it comes to Guardians."

"That's a stretch, Simon," Jim said, though he heartily approved of the tactic.

"Daryl is his godchild," Simon reminded Jim. "That'll go a long way with him."

Jim's mind was swirling. He and Simon might be looking for new jobs after they got back, but he knew they were both going after Blair and Daryl, no matter what. Joel had to come through for them. "Come on, Joel," he whispered while he waited for Simon to update him on their mission status.

"Jim, it's a done deal," Simon reported, looking as relieved as Jim felt. "We are in pursuit of Guardian kidnappers. We assemble at headquarters in one hour."

"Yes, Sir." Jim flicked off the comm link. "Hawthorne!" He rushed down the stairs.

Hawthorne came out into the hallway. "Sir?"

"Hawthorne, Blair is in trouble," Jim reported.

"When do we leave, Sir?" Hawthorne inquired. The gentle old butler had vanished and in his place stood a man you could easily believe was a retired Deep Space Ranger.

"I leave in an hour. If you came along, who could we leave Sebastian with?" Jim asked, stalling. Blair wouldn't want Hawthorne in any danger.

"Professor and Doctor Sandburg are most attentive to Sebastian," Hawthorne responded. In other words, they could leave the cat with Blair's parents and never fear for him.

"Blair would never forgive me if something happened to you," Jim pointed out to the older man.

Hawthorne stared levelly at Jim. "You'll need someone with deep space experience to man the support ship. I have a great deal of experience doing that very thing. In fact, I was flying my first ship while you were still letting someone help you across the street."

There was that. Jim was the only one at the RO station who was qualified to fly a deep space ship, and he was going for Blair. Ship handling would take his attention from that vital task. "Okay, but only as ship support." Jim hoped he didn't come to regret this.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

His father couldn't provide direct support, but he did sub-contract the RO to "deliver" a ship to the Marcos sub-station. They would then be sub-contracted to return the ship back to Titan base. They would serve one function; they were delivering supplies and the mail.

Jim hadn't thought about Blair being in any trouble, or he would have somehow managed to go with him. Not that he didn't have complete trust in Ken Foley's ability to look after Blair, it just was Jim's duty to keep Blair safe. Ken's priority would be his sister Michelle, and Jim couldn't fault the man for that.

The Sleeper Ship had crashed on the planet but had landed in the ocean, which was pretty fantastic when you considered that the planet had only one ocean and it covered a mere twenty-three percent of the surface. Eventually shifts in the ocean's floor had moved the colossus to a deep-water harbor, where Sony had found it. The remote location of the site meant that they could see trouble coming from a long way; it also meant that help would be a long time in coming.

"United Earth ship Pegasus to the Sandburg Foundation Research Vessel Alexandria, this is Captain Simon Banks."

This was a short pause. "Simon? What are you doing here?" Blair asked.

"We need to talk to you, Blair," Jim said.

"Hey, Jim," Blair called. "Approach on this vector. Welcome to the dig."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Professor Sony was getting more and more nervous. His buyers were due at any moment, and he was drowning in Retrieval Officers. Sandburg couldn't send a junior team to inspect the site, oh no. Instead, he showed up personally with a Retrieval Officer, that officer's sister, the son of a RO Captain, and one of the premiere Archaeology professors from Rainier.

Once they had established the validity of the find, Sandburg had summoned a second Foundation vessel. This one would be large enough to lift the Sleeper Ship from the planet's surface and tow it back to Earth. Sony had no idea Sandburg had access to a ship that large. He'd thought he had time. Now the little time he had left was running out.

Suddenly, yet another ship, this one military, had arrived with an RO Captain, Sandburg's RO partner, and two female Retrieval Officers, one of whom was Sandburg's girlfriend. How in the hell was he going to get those embryos out past all of these people?

He had hidden the vials well, but not well enough. Because the old fashioned vials had to be externally frozen, there were few places he could put them. As long as no one had known that they existed, he hadn't worried. But the new group did know, and now he had to pretend that he was surprised.

But they were RO and human lie detectors. So he stalled by responding only on the comm-link, he stayed in the bowels of the uncovered ship, too busy to come out to look at some vials as he mapped a ship engine they could no longer build.

This was the exciting part, reclaiming technology that had been lost by time, war, and distance. Sometimes seeing how the ancients did something could inspire countless new inventions.

Sandburg was going to give him a staff position at the Foundation to oversee the display of this ship and its contents. He would be rich from the sale of the embryos and renowned because of the discovery and his new position.

"Professor Sony, there are three ships approaching, and they're not responding to hails. Find somewhere to brace yourself," Sandburg warned.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim deployed extra shields around the Sleeper Ship, but they weren't needed. All three of the attacking ships came around behind them and landed. They were coming in for ground assault. The pirates had no intention of destroying what they had come for.

Simon, Ken, Maxine, and Jet mounted skimmer bikes to guard the approaches, while Jim, Blair, Daryl, John, and Michelle locked down the Sleeper Ship. Sony was nowhere in sight.

There was something very wrong about Sony. Jim had tried to track the source of the rumors about the ship, and his conclusion had been that it had to have been from Sony himself. He had hoped to talk to the professor, but then Ken had found the vials, and now the pirates had shown up.

Jim moved his group onto the bridge where they could watch Simon's group chase the pirates back to their ships.

"Jim, someone's opened one of the sealed doors," Michelle announced.

"John, go check the clean seal packaging and make sure that the vials are still there," Jim commanded. "The rest of you stay here. Michelle, Daryl, I need you to guard the bridge." He handed the teenagers pulse rifles. Jim wasn't worried about Michelle or Daryl, both of them were fully qualified to handle the weapons, as a RO family member often needed to be. "Blair--"

"I'm coming with you," the doctor said determinedly. Jim didn't argue, they didn't have that kind of time.

"Jim, the vials are gone," John reported.

"Okay, John, head back to the bridge," Jim said. He closed the link, while he raced up the corridor. Blair managed to stay with him, for the most part. He turned right, concentrating on the sound of Sony's labored breathing.

"Jim! Jim! Don't go that way!" Blair yelled. "You're going down the water gathering chute!"

Jim turned to run back toward Blair when the corridor filled with water, and he was knocked against the wall. The Sentinel was swept along toward the ship's internal machinery. The corridor ended suddenly, and he fell.

He hit the water reservoir with a painful smack. He swam to the top only to be hit in the mid-section by a generator that had also been inside the corridor. The machine carried him to the bottom of the reservoir. Jim struggled with the machinery. It was too heavy for him to move. He was going to drown.

Just as he was losing consciousness, Jim saw an angel. He tried to plead for another chance, there was so much he still had to do, and so many people who he had never fully told what they meant to him. The angel understood and forgave him. He leaned over Jim and placed their mouths together. Jim received a reviving breath of air. The angel flew upward.

~Please don't go. Don't let me die alone.~ Jim watched the angel float above him, his hair fanning from his face. ~Blair?~

Blair, the angel, became a fox. ~~I won't let you drown, Jim Ellison. We are bound together in life and death.~~

Blair broke the surface with his lungs screaming. He gulped air while tapping his comm-link. "Simon, we're in the water storage tanks. Jim is drowning. We need help!" Blair dived back down.

Jim was trapped under a generator that weighed too much for him or Blair to move. He brought their mouths together and breathed into his friend. ~Don't die on me, Jim. Please.~ He swam for the surface. Only the fact that if he stopped, Jim would die, kept Blair going. He was dizzy and afraid that he would lose his somewhat tenacious hold on his sense of direction. Breathe, dive, kick, mouths together, breathe out, part, kick, swim, breathe. He got into a rhythm.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Simon never had a harder decision, if he stayed to perform his duty and kept the pirates back, Jim would die and probably Blair with him. He pulled his people back and rushed back to the ship.

Ken led them to the water storage tanks. Jim was under the water, but his lungs were still filled with air. Blair was breathing for both of them.

Simon dived off his skimmer bike and swam down to Jim's side. While Blair forced his breath into Jim, Simon assessed the situation. The generator would have crushed Jim's ribs if he had not been wearing his armor. Blair had no chance of moving the piece of machinery, not even underwater. Simon kicked to the surface.

"Foley, Tate, down here! Preston, pull Sandburg out of the water!" Simon took two more breaths and kicked back down to Jim. He pressed their mouths together and breathed into Jim.

When his officers made it to his side, he hand signaled them into position. Tate and Simon pushed the generator off Jim, while Foley pulled him from underneath it. The four officers swam to the surface.

One by one, Preston got them out of the water, starting with Ellison. With his officers safe, Simon rushed out of the Sleeper Ship with a major score to settle. His orders were to not let the Guardian embryos make it to the black market. How he achieved that was up to him.

Just as he emerged, all three of the pirate ships opened up on him and the rear of the Sleeper Ship. Simon sighted the ships with his weapon. He only had two rockets, and he had to make them count. One ship was in orbit, one ship was taking off, and the third ship was still on the ground. He brought down the first ship and destroyed the one taking off. The third one blasted off with its hatches still partially open. Several bodies fell to the ground. He rushed forward.

Sony was lying on the ground, his life ebbing from his broken body. "Sony, how many vials were on that last ship?" The professor stared at him, mouth agape, and bleeding from several wounds. "Banks to Sandburg."

"This is Blair."

"Blair, I need medical assistance out here. We have eight casualties." He called his ship. "Hawthorne."

"Yes, Captain Banks."

"Where is that last ship going?"

"Sir, I have the last ship tagged, but there is only one place they could be going on that heading, Tanker's Cove."

"Get the ship ready for flight. We need to leave as soon as we're aboard."

"Yes, Sir."

Simon bent down and tried to render emergency aid to the pirates on the ground. What the drop didn't do for the ones on the bottom, having other people and equipment fall on them had finished.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Blair pressed the injector against Jim's arm. "Okay, Buddy, I want you to lie down for a bit. You nearly drowned on me."

"But I didn't," Jim said as he tried to sit up.

"Lie back down," Blair said firmly.

Jim obeyed. "Sorry."

"Don't allow him to move, Jet. I need that knitter on his ribs for at least another ten minutes."

Jet covered Jim with a thermal blanket. "Anything I should watch for?"

"Chills, muscle cramps, shortness of breath, and irritability," Blair ticked off. "On second thought, he's always irritable."

"Blair, I thought you were an angel," Jim said. "It was so beautiful. You were a vision."

"Not from where I was swimming, I can tell you. I was never more frightened in my life," Blair admitted.

Jim grabbed Blair's hand. His eyes desperately sought the smaller man's face. "Blair, I saw things."

"It's not unusual to see things when you're oxygen deprived," Blair soothed.

"No, after you gave me that first breath. I saw things." There was a need in Jim. A need to be believed.

Blair petted the larger man's hand. "We'll talk about them when things calm down. I promise." Blair grabbed his med kit. Maxine pulled him up on her bike. He marveled that the young woman was confident enough in her reflexes to fly with a passenger through a ship she had only spent a little over two hours in.

Blair need not have worried. Maxine had them out in the sunlight within twenty seconds, and beside Simon in another thirty. She stood guard while he assessed his patients.

"Any survivors in the other ships?" Blair asked Simon.

"No," Simon replied simply.

For four of the pirates, he administered a strong painkiller. It was the most humane thing he could do for the suffering pirates. Short of freezing them for cellular surgery, and he didn't have the facilities for that on this remote planet or on the two ships that they had with them, there was nothing he could do for them. He gave them the injection and went about the grim task of separating the living from the dying.

Simon assisted Blair as the younger man repaired the damage to the injured pirates. The last time he had seen Blair work had been Ken Foley's operation. It amazed Simon to watch Blair operate.

"Okay, Simon, help me move this woman onto her side," Blair ordered. When Sandburg was in full doctor mode, the man was in charge. You saw it, you felt it, and you knew it. Simon could respect that kind of presence and confidence.

The woman gurgled in her throat. "It hurts," she moaned.

"I know," Blair soothed. "I'm about to make it better." He pressed some gel packs to the woman's burned flesh.

The woman sighed. "Thanks."

"We like the people we arrest to be as comfortable as possible," Simon said in what passed for a nice tone when he was in CAPTAIN mode.

"Simon, this woman is my patient," Blair chastised. Banks grabbed the woman's arm and twisted it painfully. "Simon!"

She dropped the knife she was about to plunge into Simon's arm.

"Yes?" Simon asked as he kicked the knife away.

"Sorry," Blair said, chagrined. "I hope you didn't break that arm, I only have so many bone knitters."

"No," he said softly. "I didn't break it." He paused. "Blair, I don't hurt people because I can, okay?"

"I *know* that Simon, it's just she's my patient, and you were hurting her. I'm sorry," he apologized. Sandburg was obviously not used to people questioning his authority when he was in doctor mode.

"It's okay." Simon turned toward Maxine. "Tate?"

"Sir?" Maxine responded.

"Form a detail and transport these people back to our ship." He looked at Sony, the root of all this trouble. "Can you wake him up?" he asked Blair.

"Yes, but I wouldn't advise it," Blair answered. "His body has suffered a great deal of shock."

"It's nothing compared to the shock the asteroid field will give him," Simon countered. "Wake him up."

"Simon--"

"*Doctor* Sandburg, is there a genuine medical reason to not wake this man up while investigating the illegal possession of Guardian embryos?" CAPTAIN Banks inquired. Simon was now in full Captain mode.

"No. I just don't like it," Sandburg admitted.

"I don't need you to like it, Blair. This is a harsh situation. This man flooded a corridor and nearly killed both you and Jim. His sympathy levels with me are very low." Simon, normally a very patient man, had reached the end.

Blair awoke Sony. "Harris, can you hear me?"

Sony gasped. "I need a painkiller." He squeezed Blair's hand. "I just wanted the money."

"Sony, how many vials were on the ship you were boarding?" Banks demanded.

"Six on each ship," Sony responded.

"Harris, why risk everything for the money?" Blair asked. "You were going to be set for life."

"You weren't going to make me rich, just well off and well known." Sony giggled. "I wanted to be rich and well known."

"Damn it, man. How much would have been enough?" Blair demanded.

Sony closed his eyes and didn't answer. Jet loaded him on a floating stretcher. Blair helped secure the more injured pirates.

Once the pirates were all aboard the military ship, Simon took Blair aside. "Are you looking for a way to blame yourself for this mess?"

"Is it written on my face?" Sandburg asked.

"A little. Look, Blair. I know you, you probably offered the man a great package that anyone else would have been dancing in the streets over." Blair said nothing, which encouraged Simon to continue. "Tell me what you were offering him, and I'll tell you what I think."

"Base salary of 120,000 credits, a housing allowance, research support, full tuition for continuing education, and 15% of all profits from the operation," Sandburg ticked off.

"Good grief, Blair. That's an incredible offer." It certainly was more than Simon could pull down even if he had Joel's job, plus his.

"I thought so," Blair said, sagging. "Now people have died, and my Foundation is about to be dragged through the mud over this."

"Look, Blair, we'll get the vials back," Simon promised.

"Yes, *we* will," Sandburg announced, sounding like DOCTOR Sandburg again.

"Blair, don't you need to stay with the Sleeper Ship?" Simon asked hopefully.

"A second Foundation research vessel will be here in four hours. It's a modified military Juggernaut-class ship. Besides, I was never in charge of the operation. This is an archaeological dig. John can take charge, Daryl and Michelle will stay here, but I'm going with you." Sandburg had that CASE CLOSED look. That look made Simon nervous.

"Blair, they went to Tanker's Cove." Tanker's Cove, the place all other Hell Holes were afraid of.

Simon watched the smaller man swallow hard. "It doesn't matter. I'm coming with you," Blair said determinedly.

Banks tried another tactic. "I could order you to stay behind."

"Ask Jim, Simon, I never listen." That was a challenge. Simon knew it was.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

When the second Foundation research ship was within comm range, Blair conferred with his people and explained the situation. The Naomi was armed, armored, and crewed by an ex-military personnel and mercenary staff. Once Blair had seen the condition of the Sleeper Ship, he had summoned the Foundation's best vessel to protect it. Simon, Jim, Maxine, Blair, and Jet left for Tanker's Cove with full confidence in the safety of their friends, family, and the Sleeper Ship.

The Cove was a space-born city formed by welding old ships around an ancient habitat ring. It was populated with bottom feeders, newly released prisoners from the asteroid mines, rising entrepreneurs, and people just getting by.

Jim never thought he would ever return there once he had left the Deep Space Rangers. He certainly never thought that he would be taking Blair there. Blair was going to be a problem.

"Jim?"

Jim turned from the observation port to regard his best friend, ever. "Chief, I wanted to talk to you about some things. Starting with what I saw while I was under the water."

"Go on," Blair encouraged. They sat down at a small table in the tiny galley of the ship.

Jim cleared his throat. "While I was trapped, I was holding my breath because I knew that once I drew in water, it would be all over."

"Right."

"I looked up. The tank's lights make the water have this soft blue glow with these prismatic effects. It was beautiful." Jim paused, then continued knowing his voice would be choked with emotion. "Then I saw an angel flying down to me. I was ready to beg him for my life."

"That was me."

"I know that, but after you breathed for me, I saw an image of a fox superimposed over you," Jim tried to explain. "It was you, the real inner you, shown to me for the first time."

"A fox?" Blair puzzled. "Why a fox?"

"I don't know, it's just what I saw. In my mind, the fox was your other self," Jim answered. "I saw the fox right after I realized that you were the angel."

"The fox represents cunning, swiftness, observation, and loyalty," Blair illuminated.

Jim was surprised. "It does? Boy, that fits you."

"That's the thing," Blair puzzled, "you didn't know that."

"What do you think that means?" Jim asked, hoping his friend had an answer.

"Maybe it was my spirit animal you saw," Blair suggested.

"What's a spirit animal?" Jim had to ask.

"A spirit animal is a guide for our spiritual selves. Each animal represents several aspects of the human equation. You see me as a fox." Blair seemed to think his words were enough. Instead, they only caused more questions for Jim.

"Is that good or bad?" Ellison inquired.

Blair's hands, strong and warm, gently squeezed Jim's. "It depends on whether you want to explore it or not. I think that it is good. There are so many aspects to your being a Sentinel we haven't explored. It seems that real life always has other plans for us."

"Definitely," Jim agreed, still seeing his Angel Blair descending down to save his life and then morphing into the fox and becoming... more Blair.

"I think we should plan some time away from everything, just the two of us, and explore this new angle. It's fascinating. I'll do some reading while we're in transit," Blair added.

"Okay." Jim sat back in the chair, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from him. Blair, bless him, had not laughed at Jim's vision. He didn't know what he would have done if the younger man had not believed him, because Jim had no intention of letting that vision go. Every time they had discovered something new Jim could do, Blair had been there for him, and he wanted his friend to help him discover the meaning of this vision. Even now, it was as clear in his mind's eye as when it had occurred.

"What was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?" Blair asked, interrupting Jim's introspection, a practically unused skill.

Jim pursed his lips, and steeled himself for a fight. "Tanker's Cove."

"I'm going," Sandburg said firmly. If it were possible, Jim would have said that his friend had just draped a mantle of stubbornness over his shoulders.

"I figured as much," Jim said sarcastically. "The problem is your face."

Blair felt his face. "Other than needing a shave, what's wrong with it?"

Wrong? Nothing, if Jim were planning on peddling his friend for pleasure, which was not going to happen as long as Jim, Jet, Maxine, Simon, and Hawthorne were still breathing. But the problem was how to broach the subject without incurring the ire of the good doctor. "Nothing's wrong with your face, Chief. The problem is that you're too..."

"Too what?" Blair demanded, arms crossed and face set.

"Too... pretty," Jim offered. The word was actually beautiful. Blair was too beautiful not to attract the wrong kind of attention. Actually, at Tanker's Cove *all* attention was the wrong kind. You wanted to slip through the narrow passages with as little notice as possible being paid to you. But that could never happen with Blair "Rare Beauty Under the Best of Circumstances" Sandburg tagging along.

"Pretty?" Blair asked, clearly puzzled. For God's sake, surely one of his countless women had told the man he was pretty.

"Yeah," Jim agreed like a twit. What he needed was Simon or Maxine in here to explain much more clearly what he was trying and failing to say.

"Pretty?" Blair asked again. Perhaps he couldn't get used to the word pretty being applied to him by Jim. The situation just didn't come up that often where the word fit in. It certainly was falling flat here.

"I'm afraid so, Blair. You are simply too beautiful to be allowed inside Tanker's Cove," Jim decreed.

Instead of looking offended, Blair looked like he was going to laugh and possibly fall off his chair while he did it. "You're going to have to explain that one."

"Blair, this is not civilization we're heading toward, this is man at his worst. The men and women there will gut each other for an hour of your time." Jim couldn't throw in the "R" word, which was so clearly needed here.

"I'm not selling my... time," Blair declared, indicating that he did understand what Jim was so idiotically getting at.

"It won't matter, Blair. Before you've been there fifteen minutes, the pimps will be killing each other over you." Jim leaned closer, hoping he was finally gaining some ground. "These people haven't been groomed in living memory, and none of them could hold a candle to you even if you took them to the best spa on Earth or any other world. Blair, you will cause riots. Brother will kill brother and sister will kill sister to claim you."

Blair started laughing. "Yeah, right. Look, Jim, I know this is a ruse to make me cower on the ship. It's not working. If my face will get them to kill, then I'm surprised any of us would be allowed there. Let's face it, everyone on this mission is very easy on the eye. Maxine is so gorgeous she could make a married man poke himself in the eye with a fork while dining with his wife and nine kids at the table. Jet is so exotically and erotically blessed that a gay man would decide to test the other side. Simon makes grown women weak. He made my Aunt Helaine nearly faint when she first saw him, and she had to put another woman's face in the sink and nearly drown her when she tried to make a play for the man at the ball. And you--"

"Me?" Jim asked surprised. "Steven is the pretty Ellison."

"Yes, Steven is pretty," Blair agreed, "but you're gorgeous. That leaves us with five faces able to cause riots."

"I would put Simon, Jet, and Maxine up against the coldest cutthroat that they have, but you're not trained as a fighter," Jim countered.

"I would think a place like this would be more worried about being on the good side of the first doctor they've seen in a long time," Blair said seriously. "If I were carrying my med kit and my medical staff armband, I would cause riots."

"You're thinking long-term, Blair. In fact, you're thinking. Thinking is not an overused skill here." Jim put his hand on the younger man's arm. "For once, I need you to listen to me. This is part of my old life. I know the rules, and they are *all* unwritten. For once, trust me to know best."

Blair's face fell. "Jim, I never wanted you to think I didn't trust you. It's just that you tend to be overprotective."

"Simon compared me to a bear," Jim said with a sigh.

"Which breed?" Blair asked. "Some can be quite docile and intelligent."

"Polar Bear, I think," Jim recalled. Actually, it was a wounded, hungry Polar Bear that had missed out on mating season, to quote Simon, who had been in full rant mode about Jim's latest stupidity, i.e. Miller Hansel.

"Yow," Blair hissed. "Omnivorous, vicious, patient, extremely fast runner and swimmer, and the largest native born bear on Earth. That's bad, Jim."

"You don't know the half of it," Jim responded meekly.

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Blair felt like a fool wearing the plague mask and space armor. "Jim, don't you think this is overkill?"

"You won't think that the first time one of the environmental sections fails." He checked his friend's seals. "All done." He strapped two blasters on Blair's hips. "Try to act like you don't think that those guns are covered in manure."

Simon stepped out in his armor. He was carrying a weapon that was originally designed for surface-to-air combat. "Ready."

Jim looked Simon over. He spot-welded two patches over the flawless armor. "That's better."

"Why did you do that?" Simon asked.

"You need to look like you survived a boarding. Those patches look crude, and you look dangerous," Jim said proudly.

When Maxine stepped into the staging area, Blair took an involuntary step back. Her metallic green armor looked positively evil.

"Perfect, Maxine, you look as deadly as possible. The change of color for the armor was a stroke of genius," Jim declared.

"It was your idea," Maxine reminded him.

Jim preened. "But it's still a stroke of genius."

Maxine was large, and armored she was even larger. She had a dozen obvious weapons on her and probably more hidden.

"Maxine, let me make this so clear that even a rookie can understand it," Simon began. "You have only one objective, the safety of Doctor Sandburg. The embryos are lower on your list. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, Sir," Tate responded.

"Good, woman. Now, Jim, you can concentrate on getting us in and out of this place with those vials. Tate will guard Blair," Simon declared.

Jet came in dressed as a Martian Death Maiden. The Maidens were a terrifying group of mercenaries who were renowned for their ability to track people, and the fact that if a Maiden fell after accepting a contract then all would take up the case until it was solved or until *all* the Maidens were dead. Jet's older sister was an active Maiden, as was her mother's youngest sister. Her mother, the rest of her aunts, and maternal grandmother were retired Maidens. She could fool anyone but an active Maiden.

"Jet, I need you to scout the Martian sector and let me know what you hear," Banks ordered.

"You're sending her out alone?" Blair asked, horrified.

"Can you sling Martian?" Jim asked.

"{Yes, James. My Martian is beyond reproach, as is my accent. I have spent many months amongst my Martian kin. Do you think I would shame them?}" Blair asked proudly in Martian.

"Can you show me your knife work?" Jet asked as she spun her blade through her fingers.

"Never mind," Blair replied defeated. His knife work was nonexistent. Knives were for cutting food, not twirling around your hand. Things could be lopped off.

"Smart move, Chief, you need all of your fingers," Jim announced somewhat smugly. Blair would make him pay later.

"Okay, people, Jim does all the talking, and we *all* follow his lead." Simon emphasized that sentence for Blair's sake. He wasn't that bad, was he?

"Sir, we have clearance to attach to the habitat ring. The third pirate ship is already here," Hawthorne reported.

"Good work, Hawthorne," Banks replied. "I need you to stay sharp, we might have to get out of here in a very big hurry," Jim said.

"Of course, Sir," Hawthorne responded.

Jim passed out the locator tabs. "Place this in a secret place on your person. This will let us find you if you can't communicate."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jim stalked into the market area of Tanker's Cove. It had been almost twelve years since he had seen these corridors. The place had not changed. He could see some of the very same people watching with predatory eyes for any sign of weakness in the new arrivals.

Baby Boy, youngest son of mobster Momma Birch, sent one of his muscle women for a closer look at Blair. Even with his face covered with the plague mask, Blair had already drawn his first admirer. Maybe Jim should have put a shapeless gunnysack over his friend's armor.

Jim watched the woman walk up to Blair and make the mistake of touching the smaller man's shoulder. Maxine struck the idiot in the center of the chest, and the muscle woman dropped to the floor in a graceless heap.

"Good grief, Maxine, she just touched my shoulder," Blair complained.

"Professor, does one predator allow another predator to come up and lick their prey?" Maxine asked sweetly.

"Of course not, but--" Blair replied.

"Captain Banks's orders were crystal clear to me. Are you trying to get me fired and hunted down by the entire female population of headquarters?" Maxine asked. "The members of the Tech Support staff alone are enough to give me nightmares. I'd never be able to close both eyes. That's assuming Jet and Jim left me alive."

"Oh, we wouldn't kill you right away, Maxine. We'd want you to suffer," Jim said.

"See," she said. "I don't want my last hours to be filled with fear and dread." Maxine waved her hand as if she might be overcome with emotion at any second.

"Jet to Polar Bear," Preston called.

"Go ahead," Jim said after flashing an irritated look at Blair. He knew where the code name Polar Bear had come from.

"I found one of the pirates in the Martian sector. He's been most cooperative." Cooperative? Jim thought it meant the man was still breathing, but he wouldn't bet any money on it. "The vials have been sold to someone called 'Ford B'."

"Damn, and double damn!" Jim's angry face caused several people to give him a wide berth.

"Who's Ford B?" Jet asked.

"Bad, bad news. Polar Bear to Dragon," Jim called.

"Dragon here," Simon responded.

"Meet us on the section 12 landing as soon as you tend the bird," Jim ordered.

"The bird will not be flying anywhere," Simon promise. "I clipped its wings."

"Good work, Dragon," Jim said proudly. "Jet, meet us on the section 12 landing."

"See you there," Jet responded.

Jim looked back at Blair. "Simon's crippled the pirates' ship, and Jet has tracked the vials to a 'provider' named Ford B."

"What kind of man is he?" Blair asked.

"He's the only person I know who survived a fifty-year sentence to the asteroid belt," Jim reported with no emotion. He and Ford B had history, but it didn't include violence. Jim said a private prayer of thanks that he'd managed to talk Blair into covering his face. If others had seen him, then Ford B wouldn't rest until he secured Blair's services, willing or unwilling.

Blair winced. "What do we do?"

"We get an appointment," Jim said confidently. He guided them down to the landing, which was numbered as 12, but known to the inhabitants as Ford's Foyer. The hopeful, the indebted, and the hangers on were gathered for a chance to meet with the great man himself.

When the group arrived, the doorman gave them a number. This represented their turn to present their case for an audience. "You're number 5," the woman said gruffly.

"Hey, we've been waiting for two days and we're number 80," someone complained.

"If you want a better number," the doorman smiled. "Take it from them."

The four criminals tried to jump Jim, Maxine, and Blair. Blair ducked under the blow directed at him. The man who had tried to grab him found himself being used as a blunt object by Maxine. Jim pulled Blair back and let Maxine have the floor.

"Aren't you going to help her?" Blair asked anxiously.

"No, this is just a distraction." Jim obviously wasn't worried. His expression said he'd seen his rookie in action too many times to give these clowns more than a passing glance. "Ford can probably see through your plague mask, and he's had you scanned, and he knows that you were never exposed."

"How did you know he's had me scanned?" Blair asked, still watching Maxine as she tore through the pirates. One of the pirates, either dead or in a coma, was spinning slowly from the blades of the overhead fan.

"I saw the red light reflect off your armor," Jim reported. "You were the *only* one he had scanned."

Maxine twirled and kicked the last attacker into unconsciousness just as Simon and Jet entered the area.

"Number 5, your turn," the doorman announced.

"We're up," Jim said.

"Do I want to know?" Simon asked as he stepped forward just in time for the pirate riding the fan blades to fall to the ground.

"Just a little test," Jim explained as if this was an everyday occurrence.

"Did you pass?" Jet asked as she stepped over two tangled and unmoving pirates..

"I think so," Maxine said brightly.

Cokie looked up as the just-announced mercenary group approached her desk. Only one didn't receive the 'more dangerous than me' rating. That one, the poor soul, was wearing a plague mask. She hated to think what kind of twisted features the plague had blessed him with. It was really too bad, he was otherwise very well built with a smooth sexy walk. His confidence seemed unshaken by his hideous complexion.

"What's your business?" she demanded.

"We're here to purchase some special merchandise from Ford," Jim said calmly.

"He's sold his weapons business to Momma Birch," Cokie said dismissively, hoping that would be the end of it.

"We don't *need* weapons, but our true needs are not for public consumption," the blue-eyed man informed her.

The one doing the talking was ice, a perfect face covering a heart as dark as a black hole. She sensed that they only wanted what they wanted, then they would be gone. If she played her little wait and see games with them, she could easily end up taking the final sleep before the end of the day. His blue eyes measured her throat. "Go in," she said.

Ford B already gave them the green light, but he allowed her to exercise her judgment in how long she would make them wait. But not this time. She *never* wanted to get on the bad side of the blue-eyed man.

Ford B knew that someone would be on the trail of the embryos the moment he'd purchased them; he just didn't expect them to arrive so soon. Ellison he recognized, but not the others. He had heard Ellison had left the Deep Space Rangers some time ago, but he had no idea he had become a mercenary.

The "authorities" had no jurisdiction here. This station was outside the Human Sphere and only held to the laws that the inhabitants made.

The bigger man wore his strength with quiet dignity. His body language spoke of calm and control. The smaller woman was a Death Maid and Ford valued his life too much to become the target of that group. They took the death or injury of one of their sisters very seriously and applied their revenge with deadly earnest. He had already seen the larger woman in action. She was young, strong, trained to perfection, and carried herself like an ancient queen.

The smaller man was a puzzle. Who was he that he wore a plague mask to cover his face? Why did Ellison and the larger woman protect him? Ford despised puzzles.

"Ford," Ellison greeted him.

"Ellison," Ford countered just as coolly.

"We have business," Ellison informed him.

"Good, I would hate to think you were just here to damage my furniture and take up my valuable time." Ford ruffled a sheaf of papers, hoping that the sound would impress the taller woman with his subtle show of wealth. It didn't.

"We want the Guardian embryos," Ellison announced to no one's surprise, least of all Ford.

"Having such a thing would be... immoral Ellison," Ford responded, beginning his bargaining. "You know that I'm a very moral man."

Ellison snorted. "Spare me the rhetoric, Ford. How much do you want for them?"

"I have many desires," Ford began.

"That sounds like a personal problem to me. How much for the vials?" Ellison repeated.

"Cash has no meaning here," Ford said simply. It was a fact, money, no matter what planet it came from was entirely worthless here. Money only had value if someone were willing to trade for it. Everything here was for sale. Everything not nailed down could be traded for something else. That included the people and their loyalty.

"I know that. How much?" Ellison repeated, yet again.

"What do you have to trade?" Ford asked, leaning back in his chair and enjoying the show. Ellison had that 'end of my supposed patience' look now, and if Ford didn't want to run a real time security test, it would be best if he heeded that look. Things tended to be damaged around Ellison.

Ellison slid back a storage compartment on his armor and flashed a full box of entertainment crystals. Ford nearly salivated.

"These represent hours of the latest interactive crystals. None more than two months old," Ellison announced. "I offer 200 hours."

"You insult me, Ellison," Ford snarled. "I have six vials, and I'm safe from your so-called authorities here."

"True, but if word were to get to the Guardians themselves, how long do you think you would last once they were brought here to settle up with you?" Ellison smiled.

"Who would sponsor such a venture without even a potential for profit?" Ford demanded. Guardians were as penniless as they were furry. He had no worries.

"Guardians have many admirers. A picture or two of the loveable ten kilo bundles of fur with the caption 'Kept in Slavery' would have school children donating their spending money to hire people to hunt you down." Ellison gave Ford a toothy grin.

"Those ten kilo pups become 150 kilo killers that can outrun a horse," Ford reminded the man.

"But it is the pups that the public will see. Face it, Ford, even you couldn't weather that kind of publicity. Once your neighbors hear about the wrath that you brought down on the station, they'll put you out themselves. 300 hours, and I'm being generous." At least they were back to negotiations and not the supposed public love for Guardians.

"2000 and we can call it a deal," Ford offered.

"500," Ellison stated.

"1500," Ford tried.

"1000," Ellison said, sounding final.

"Fine, but I have one more request." Ford leaned forward and eyed the man in the plague mask.

"What's that?" Ellison demanded.

"I want him to remove his mask," Ford pointed to the smaller man. "I want to see what he's hiding."

Ellison set 1000 hours on the desk and nodded to the man in the mask. When the mask was lifted away, Ford found himself transfixed. The man was beautiful. Bright green eyes, dark flowing curls, high cheekbones, and full lips. Ford could make a fortune with that beauty. All he had to do was kill Ellison and the rest of his party, except for the Death Maid.

The beauty picked up the vials and inspected them carefully. Good, he had other skills besides his looks.

"They have the Foundation's seals on them, and they haven't been broken," the young man said in a surprisingly deep voice. He placed the vials in a cold pack, then loaded them into a storage unit on his armor.

He smiled at Ellison and became even more beautiful. It would be a crying shame if Ford never saw that mesmerizing smile again. Only when they were nearly out of the door, did Ford realize that he was staring dreamily at the man. Where was his head?

Ford pressed the red button under his desk, sending a nearly silent signal to his best fighters. All the people in Ellison's party reacted except Mr. Exotic Beauty. Damn his foolish soul, they were enhanced.

Jim pushed Blair into the center of the group. "Helmet down!" he ordered. "Hawthorne, we need a pickup at section 12. Do what you have to do to get us out."

"Understood," Hawthorne said.

Maxine and Jet closed the doors. Simon shot Ford, then pushed the man's desk against the doors. Neither the doors nor the desk lasted long.

"Clear," Simon called. Everyone flattened and Simon fired through the last of the door. Six of Ford's people were burned for their trouble. A low-pitched whine invaded the room. "Find it!" Simon commanded.

Jim and Jet fired simultaneously at the source of the whine, an immobilizer ray building to overload in a light fixture.

"Come on, Hawthorne. Don't let us down," Jim prayed. They were able to keep the attackers pinned down, but they were not able to get out of Ford's office. The Retrieval Officers killed anyone foolish enough to show themselves in the widening doorway.

"Sir, where are you?" Hawthorne asked over Blair's earpiece. "I've attached to the section 12 hatch, and it's empty."

"Having a little trouble here," Blair replied. "We're stuck in an office under heavy fire."

"Does it have an outside window?" Hawthorne inquired.

Blair looked around. "Yes, one small one. But--"

"Press something against it that I will know came from you," Hawthorne demanded.

Blair crawled to the window and pressed his plague mask against the window. Hawthorne had helped him mold the soft plastic to his face. He would recognize it.

"Blair, what are you doing?" Maxine asked between firing.

"Hawthorne is coming for us."

Maxine looked up at the window. "Dirt!" She grabbed Blair and dived with him away from the window.

Seconds later the ship struck the side of the station. The emergency escape tube attached over the window and blew out the window and parts of the wall.

The escape tube sealed its edges and irised its opening. Blair dived through first. Jim held the opening secure until the rest of the party was inside. As soon as he stopped firing, three of the attackers rushed the room, blasting. The ship detached from the station leaving the hole in the wall only partially sealed. The tube retracted, bringing the group into the ship.

Inside the office, all three attackers plus Ford B, were blown out into space to die within seconds. The hole in the office wall was sealed behind them by the repair kit left by the escape tube. The resulting transparent patch was ten times stronger than the original wall.

"A fortuitous rescue, Hawthorne," Simon declared.

The older man smoothed his short, thick, coal black hair from his face. His lively brown eyes almost disappeared in the folds of skin surrounding them as he smiled. "I do my best, Sir."

====<><><><>===<><><><>====

When Blair was a kid, he had seen an adult Guardian for the first time. He turned to his mother. "Momma, there's a bear wearing a German Shepard costume." Naomi had laughed for quite a while, then she told him the story of the Guardians.

He carefully turned over the vials to the Guardian's liaison, a human telepath trained to interpret for them. "The other 12 vials were destroyed, these are the last of them."

One of the Guardians circled around the desk and sniffed Blair. It vaguely resembled a Rottweiler, but only in his markings. Blair looked nervously back at Jim, but the Sentinel was relaxed so he knew that he should be also.

"You have performed a great service," the liaison said.

"What will happen to the embryos?" Blair asked.

"The never-born will be destroyed. Guardians have no trust in such unnaturalness. They fear that these never-born were bred to be servants."

Blair watched the vials be taken away by six Guardians. They trotted away with great dignity. "I understand."

"Come on, Chief, we need to get home," Jim said softly. They walked quietly back to Blair's APV. Blair was silent for so long, that Jim finally spoke. "Chief, anything wrong?"

"I was just wondering if those genetic engineers had a single clue what they would be creating when they decided that they could design the perfect 'search and rescue' animals?" Blair asked.

"I doubt it, Chief. But for the success of the Guardians, there are hundreds of failures to balance against them," Jim said tiredly.

Blair leaned back in his pilot's chair after strapping in. "Let's go home, Jim."

-- The End --