1 Race Against Time

Location: Unnamed Ethsarn Disposal facility

Several armed men in gray-orange jump-suits threw a quaking, fat man in gray pajama style suit against the wall. They held him, while three other men stood before him. Two were dressed in civilian non-descript attire, one older, sturdy, with a troubled, grim expression. Another was younger, his face also bearing concern, but also with traces of sarcasm and skepticism. The third wore a gray-orange suit trimmed with white collar designation of an Ethsarn and had a serious look.

"I don't care if you fry his mind, Raess. Find out what he knows." The older man commanded the third man. Raess looked at the fat man before them.

A merciless mind-push delivered forward the first random image, while the Ethsarn adjusted his perception to the unique twists of the man's mind. The man's name was Gyert, and he had been a caretaker at this Ethsarn disposal and donor facility for the last three years, a replacement sent for the previous caretaker, who had met an unfortunate end in local rebel hostilities.

Raess pushed. He saw from Gyert's eyes.

... Gyert walked along a row of naked bodies, laying on cots with tubes attached to them. He stopped in front of a young female, reached out and, smirking, sensuously ran his fingers down her chin and neck. The girl didn't react. Her shorn head bore the characteristic marks of brief and cruel act of brain-damage, standard for donor Ethsarns kept in these kinds of facilities...

Raess winced.

"What is it, Raess?" The younger man next to the older spoke with concern. Raess ignored the question, shifting his concentration to become more directive, so he could pull only the information he needed.

Raess guided. Compliantly, the man's memories shifted.

... Gyert stood before a line of thin, frightened people, who stood with expressions of hopelessness before him. Behind them was the ship that brought them into the facility. Imperial delivery soldiers surrounded them, holding them in check. Before them, surrounding Gyert, were his mind-altered facility workers, waiting for his orders without any expression on their faces.

Gyert's gaze fell on the smaller figure of a prisoner that stood second in line from the left. It was a light-haired boy with vivid green eyes, which immediately captured Gyert's attention. He saw the unbroken will in the defiance on the boy's face and felt a pleasant ting.

"That one. To the special room. Others into disposal." He said calmly. His drones moved toward the prisoners and herded them away toward the procedure rooms, to be sorted. The strongest would become new donors to replace the old, those, whose mindless bodies were already failing. The others would be disposed of, their ashes scattered into the misty Ethsarn Currents lazily swirling around the facility.

The drones dragged the resisting boy into a different direction. Gyert smiled with anticipation at the new treat that waited for him...

"He was kept alive when he got here, yesterday. He was not disposed with the others." Raess informed the two men, anxiously waiting for his answers. The younger, named Berez, turned to the older with relief. "We are in the right place."

The older, named Captain Tolmun, closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.

"Then, where is he? His body was not among the donors." The older man said. Raess turned to the fat caretaker, concentrated, and guided.

…Gyert strode down the bleak hallway, hurrying to meet the unexpected guests, whose signal he had just received. He was dismayed at the interruption of his plans and worried about what this Imperial Prog researcher wanted...

…The researcher had an authorization to take whatever Ethsarn subjects he wanted. The man was walking across the rows, fastidiously glancing across the unconscious bodies hanging there. He pointed at several to the gray Imperial soldiers, following him with an emotionless look on their faces. He looked at Gyert coldly.

"All of these are already mind-stripped. Do you have any still undamaged?" The man demanded. The caretaker quaked under the man's penetrating gaze. This high-type saw him as dirt, a nasty bug close to his shoe. He had the authority to get rid of him, and get dragged off into the meat-house, just like the unregistered and rebel affiliated Ethsarns that just got brought in. To him, Gyert was not all that different from them.

Gyert didn't dare lie to him...

…Gyert hastily opened the door and saw his two toys in it. The older, dark-headed, and dressed in the gray utility form of Gyert's drones, met him with a gloomy expression. The light-haired one looked at him with unshaken defiance, though now mixed with fear and disgust, now that he knew what to expect. Gyert regretted giving them up, but he did not dare lie to the Ethsarn researcher.

"Would they do, Endetu Varan?" Gyert bowed subserviently, squishing any negative feelings toward the arrogant Imperial bastard, with his height, slim, trained figure, and coldly refined Northern looks. When the researcher left, he'd feel freely and swear all he wanted, but for now it was not safe. The Imperial researcher didn't look pleased, but after a critical look at the subjects, as if gaging if they were still mentally intact, he unlocked his thin lips.

"I'll take them... Are you sure you have no one else?" He turned to Gyert. Gyert shifted uncomfortably.

"My sincere apologies, Endetu Varan, but the last shipment has already been disposed of. These two are all that's left."

The Imperial researcher closed his mouth tightly and left without another word to Gyert. His assigned soldiers headed to the boys, grabbed them, and dragged them out of the room. Regretfully, Gyert looked on as his toys were lead away. He did not care about the old one. He was getting bored with him. He wanted to replace him, after he did a few things with them both, first. But he had not even had the chance to play with the new one. He had so many plans...

Raess stifled the connection with distaste before he perceived any of the details of the caretaker's plans. He kept only a narrow channel open in case he needed to pull more information.

"He was taken four hours ago by an Imperial affiliate, Endetu Azerick Varan. Ship designation... AF22309, M-C6." Raess pulled the information from a brief flash of Gyert standing bent over the console looking at the designation of the large ship that had arrived and parked at the side of his facility. It was large, even larger than the Coalition cruiser, which was currently parked in that very same place and could be seen from the window panes at the side of Gyert's office.

"An Imperial Medical Research vessel with high security level." Berez commented to the older man.

"Where did it go?" The man prompted. Raess shifted his despising gaze at the quaking caretaker and ruthlessly pushed again, not caring in the least of the piercing headache his methods were causing to this sleaze of a man. The caretaker moaned, his limbs shaking and his eyes rolling up into his head, but his brain obediently supplied another image.

"We could stop by another facility. We still have time." The lower-ranking medical assistant spoke hopefully to the disappointed looking Imperial researcher, on their way out. They already completely ignored helpful Gyert trotting after them to the exit from the facility.

"No, it's pointless. Two more or twenty will not make a difference. That Genex strain is non-modifiable. That must be why they shelved his case. If I had known, I would not have wasted my time. No, this is my last attempt. If the strain doesn't take, I'll take that Genex to Lasserat. Let those fools figure out what to do with him. I cannot justify keep wasting resources on a dead-ended side project, Aleco." The Imperial officer complained.

The image dispersed.

"Ganoi, Lasserat 10." Raess informed.

"That's two days away. Lasserat 10 is a highly secured installation. We cannot attack it. I know your Eth is important to you, but… He is only one person." The officer in orange-gray jumper Coalition uniform spoke up reluctantly.

"I understand. You've done more than enough." The older man spoke with a grim face.

"We don't abandon our own." The soldier answered, a bit apologetic.

"We have a chance to take a high-security medical ship and learn what Imperials have been planning. Their last surprise was nasty, don't you agree?" The man next to the older man suggested. He wore the same non-descript civilian jacket and trousers. In response, the officer in orange-gray winced slightly in memory.

"If we hurry, we might catch them before they reach Lasserat." The man suggested next. The officer considered.

"We will try. But we cannot risk going into Earmun." The officer warned. Tersely nodding, the older man strode away out of the caretaker's room.

"What do we do with him?" One of the four soldiers asked of their officer, who were still holding up the heavily sweating, fat body of the caretaker. Raess merely cast the body a disgusted glance.

When the small cruiser outside pulled away from the Ethsarn disposal and donor facility, the light of their engines flashed briefly through the windows of the caretaker's office on a grisly scene. The caretaker's fat, lifeless body was hanging against the wall, his wrists secured in the holds that he himself had installed to keep his former victims restrained, and blood pooled on the ground from the man's cut abdomen, his guts hanging out. Above his head, written with careless haste were the bloody words of carried out judgment. "Depraved" and a symbol combining letters C and F...