“Now then,” the Berganda said, turning around, freeing her slender left hand from the worn leather glove. And then the right.
The Berganda observed them closely, her calculating eyes taking in every detail, leaving nothing for granted. Avienne flipped out one of her knives and spun it in the air, catching it without breaking eye contact with the Berganda.
“Who are you, and what do you want with Layela?” the Berganda said, no hint of fear in her voice. Not a good sign.
Ardin shook his head and sighed, looking down at his comm link, where Avienne could see a silent text flashing. “We just want to get her to safety, that’s all.”
The Berganda smirked. “I’m sure you do. You certainly look like the hero types.”
Avienne gritted her teeth, knowing Ardin would not take kindly to that. She glanced towards her brother, who simply kept shaking his head. “Come on, Avienne. We’ve no business left here.”
Without a second glance he unlocked the door and walked out, leaving Avienne and the Berganda to face each other. Avienne shrugged and flipped her knife once before making it vanish again within her clothing. The Berganda seemed to hesitate, but accepted Avienne’s show of peace and whipped her gloves back on.
The Berganda seemed to relax a bit. “What do you really want with Layela?”
Avienne shrugged. “Like my brother said, to protect her. But we don’t know anything else.” Then she added under her breath, “Except that if we don’t find her, we don’t get our profit.”
The Berganda called out as Avienne pulled the door open, “Better give up on your pay, then.”
Avienne paused and looked back. “Not the most positive thinker, are you?”
The Berganda gave her a half smile. “For a Berganda, I’m actually quite positive.” She brought her hand up and left it lingering there, the implication of her gloved hand unmistakable.
“Right. Time to go,” Avienne said. “Thanks. It’s a beautiful shop!”
“I’ll let Layela know that when I see her next,” the Berganda called as the door closed behind Avienne, who grinned. Like the Berganda had any intention of leading them to her friend. A good bait, though.
“I never knew Bergandas to be loyal to anyone but their own,” Avienne said as she joined her brother by the side of the building.
“Speaking of being loyal to our own, Lang’s in jail.”
Avienne groaned. “Again?” Lang was not one of their original crew, but he’d been working with them for a few years.
Ardin’s jaw was set in a stubborn line. A look Avienne knew all too well.
“Come on, Ardin,” Avienne pleaded. “He might get sent to a mining colony this time, and he’s too soft. He wouldn’t even last a day. We can’t let him rot there.”
Ardin began walking, but Avienne refused to follow. “If you don’t get him out, I will, Ardin.”
At those words, her brother did stop. “We’ll have to break him out, unless you intend on paying the fee on his head.”
“Why? How big is it?” Avienne asked. Ardin merely shook his head.
“So we break him out. How hard could that be, with the right distraction?” She smiled and winked as she walked passed him, back towards their shuttle.
He groaned again, and she laughed.
“Let’s get Lang, and then we’ll try getting this Layela one more time before we leave the planet. Maybe we can convince the Berganda to tell us her whereabouts.” She ran her finger along the smooth pommel of her gun. With just one bullet per gun allowed on this little planet, it could be a bit of a challenge.
Her brother shook his head and didn’t answer, but he would go along with her. She was certain of it.
Avienne looked back at the flower shop one last time and spied the Berganda in the window, watering some flowers. For someone whose friend was in apparent danger, she certainly didn’t seem very concerned.
i
Layela leaned her head against the window, watching the dark landscape of Collar spread below, her heart thudding as she wondered what fate awaited her. It was not the first time she had been arrested because of Yoma, and it would not be the first time she would neither talk nor beg.
Still, her skin tingled with fear at the thought of the pain that might soon follow. Her eyes and throat felt dry, and she wished that she could have some water. Her arms and wrists ached, firmly secured behind her, her hands numb from the tight cuffs. She closed her eyes, fighting back the memories. These were soldiers, men with laws they had to obey, she repeated in her mind. This was not some ill-fated capture by security guards who held no respect for law or life.
She would be fine. She was no longer on Thalos IV.
Her breathing calmed, her mind slowed and she reopened her eyes. The shuttle was approaching an ugly grey building, “Gullwing Detention Centre” marked above the shuttle port’s entry.
“Time to go,” the guard said with a half-grin as the shuttle landed. The doors opened and Layela was shoved into the dimly lit metal bay.
She gritted her teeth as fingers dug into her arms, the two guards well armed and well muscled. They followed the yellow-lit corridors, marking the path to the judgment rooms. Soon she would learn what she was accused of. But then, the guards veered off into another corridor lighted in unfamiliar green. Layela felt her gut turn. They were no longer heading for the judgment rooms, as by law they should be.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice cracking.
She bit back a cry of pain when they answered by digging their fingers so deep she thought her bones would break.
“I have the right to fair judgment,” Layela said, her voice gaining strength.
Her answer came swiftly as a blow to the back of her head that sent white spots rushing into her vision. She staggered and fought to regain her senses, or at least keep her footing as
