Shane obviously wasn’t expecting to see Dan enter the audience chamber, especially after trying to get him killed. The guards had to break them up when they started fighting.

Dan nursed his side, Shane his bloody lip. A purple bruise was already starting to mar the man’s already messed up face. Blake didn’t care. Shane was Silverman’s man.

“You did well,” Rork said, glancing between Blake and the commandos. “Very well.” He handed the missile guidance system to one of his men. Then he stepped toward Susa Jaiban, pushing a lock of her dark hair behind an ear. “Now the Dust Dogs won’t pose a threat to me or my plans.”

A ball of acid formed in Blake’s stomach. Rork would kill the girl if he had to. So far he hadn’t been responsible for any murders on Acheron, not even the man that was shot at Dorian Jaiban’s fortress. The guard had taken a bullet to the leg and fell two stories, but surprisingly he hadn’t died. Blake had been very relieved to find out the man survived after he had asked the Dust Dogs leader.

I can’t be responsible for murder, he told himself. Was killing indirectly the same thing? Ultimately, the death would have been on one of the commando’s hands—whoever had shot the guard—had he died.

But it was his mission to get the guidance system and to kidnap Dorian’s daughter. Whatever might have happened would have been on his hands. Maybe as much on his hands as any killer’s. Whatever happened here on Acheron or anywhere else in the galaxy…

He swallowed, feeling the knot in his stomach churn.

Rork nodded to one of his men, and the man left the audience chamber at a trot. “Because of your success in helping my clan achieve its ends, I official declare you both members of the Iron Kin of War.” He said the clan name with a note of reverence.

Dan nodded. “Thank you.”

Shane didn’t say anything, or even make a gesture of thanks. Asshole. But he knew this was all a ruse, while his partner Dan didn’t.

“You may now have free reign of my base and the surrounding city,” the warlord continued. “But first, you will have to report to a clan quartermaster and receive your markings and duties.”

Too many lies.

The guard that had left moments ago returned with four more men at Dan’s flank. The commando turned, eyed them quickly and turned back to Rork.

Did he know something was wrong? Would the man fight back?

Rork made a small gesture to Blake.

Blake felt like shit, betraying this man like this, especially after he had been so helpful. But he was an Alliance commando—and a spy. It was just business.

Keep telling yourself that!

“Put your hand behind your back, Mr. Parsen,” Blake said.

Dan frowned. “What?”

The guards surrounded him and Shane stepped over to Rork’s left side. Dan seemed to take in what was happening. Blake could see it dawn on his face.

The commando glanced around again, then tightened his fists as if preparing for a fight, but he didn’t move. He probably knew he was outmatched, surrounded by five men with guns and the rest of Rork’s base, not to mention the thousands of soldiers in the city. There was no way he would escape.

Blake almost wished he could.

“I knew you were fucking dirty, Shane,” Dan said. “But I didn’t know you were this far up our asses.” He tapped his ear.

“The lead lining in these walls,” Rork said gesturing, “won’t let you communicate with your operations team.”

Shane smirked, then stepped forward and punched Dan in the stomach. Dan bowled over and coughed, one knee on the cold hard cement.

The commando craned his neck, but a bar of bright light filled with dust moats was shining directly into his face at that height. He squinted.

“That’s enough!” Blake snapped. Dan was their prisoner and even though he was a spy, he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.

Rork didn’t say anything. Was that the sort of treatment the government would show its people after Acheron was split from the Alliance? Would this hellhole of a planet remain the same, capital punishments for ninety percent of all crimes?

Rork was better than most warlords, but even Life City was a harsh place.

Shane glanced at Blake, made a face. That damned scar made the bastard really ugly. The commando walked off toward the edge of the room.

The guards put manacles on Dan’s wrists.

“And him,” Blake said, nodding to Marcus. He had almost forgotten about the pilot, standing there, barely moving and not making a sound. The poor bastard didn’t deserve any of this. He was simply flying the wrong shuttle at the wrong time. Blake doubted Rork would kill either of them, though. Not when they could be used to bargain with.

Rork shook his head, smiled. “Did you really think I would let the Alliance send in their man without knowing about it? You must feel quit the fool after helping me acquire the guidance system as well as the Dust Dogs’ daughter. My plans for this planet will surely succeed now.”

“I guess you have spy on Cerberus Station,” Dan said. “But what I’m wondering is why in the hell would you kidnap an Alliance ambassador and a Retuailian diplomat? What do you have to gain, Rork?”

Rork strolled over to his plants, caressed the tender leaves. “I’m going to free this planet from your Alliance’s oppressive grip. I just need some help, some of which you have provided me with, Mr. Parsen. Thank you.”

“It’s never going to work. You think the Alliance will just hand you this planet because you have a couple of high value hostages?” He was standing now. “They’re going to roll in here and crush your little operation and leave you and all your assholes dead in their wake!”

Rork smirked. “Not if I have the backing of the Retuailians.” His face turned hard, but still held an edge of amusement. “I hear your Alliance wants to make an agreement with the aliens. From what I hear, it sounds like your Alliance is desperate for this treaty. Your government wouldn’t want to upset that, would they?”

Dan laughed. “How the fuck do you intend to get the support of the Retuailian Hegemony after kidnapping the High Diplomat’s daughter?”

Blake looked to Rork. The warlord had told him how this would all play out. But it was interesting to hear Rork state his plans to somebody other than himself, to see if they still remained the same.

“Kidnap?” Rork asked, feigning confusion. “Did I kidnap an Alliance ambassador and a Retuailian Diplomat?” Rork turned to Blake. “Mr. Halls?”

“No, sir,” Blake said. “You didn’t kidnap anybody.” The plan was still the same.

“What did I do, Mr. Halls?”

Blake shifted on his feet. He thought after the trial he would be used to lying. This should be easy! “You recued the Ambassador and the Diplomat before the Dust Dogs could get to them.”

Why did it feel so wrong?

“Wow,” Dan said, shaking his head. “You really think anybody will believe this bullshit you’re selling?”

“Of course they will, Mr. Parsen,” Rork said. “In fact, as I hold you prisoner, your commanders will no doubt wonder what has happened to you. Maybe you were killed in an ambush. Maybe the Dust Dogs captured you. Maybe any one of a dozen different things befell you and Mr. Threscher while you were here. Acheron is a harsh place. You know that.”

“Hey,” Shane said, his voice scratchy. “Leave me out of that.”

Dan glanced toward Shane. “How do you explain that asshole’s presence when he’s spotted off this hellhole when your little plan is over?”

Rork breathed in deeply. “You ask too many questions, Mr. Parsen. And I do not feel obliged to answer them right now.” The warlord turned to Blake. “Take them away.”

Blake signaled the guards to move out. Dan’s last question had been an interesting one. Rork was probably going to kill Shane, now. Silverman hadn’t supplied an answer. Maybe Threscher was going to get a surgical operation to change the way he looked. He was an ugly bastard after all.

* * *

Dan twirled Yuen’s recording tech in his hand. They hadn’t even searched him before throwing them in this cell. Not that they would have found it anyway. He’d thought he had escaped, only to come back to Rork’s base to get thrown in a prison cell. It was a makeshift holding area with metal support beams welded to create an iron curtain to keep people from getting out. The door was a two inch, rusted metal sheet with hinges. No way out.

Marcus seemed somber.

“Sorry about this,” Dan said.

Marcus shrugged. “Not your fault. Just bad luck.”

Dan nodded, still twirling the tech between his fingers.

“Do you think they’ll kill us?”

“Don’t know.”

“I’ve got a wife and two kids,” Marcus said, looking down at the floor.

For some reason they had put dirt down. Dan thought he smelled a faint odor of urine and vomit. The dirt was probably used to soak that up. He nearly winced thinking about it as he pulled his hand off the ground, shook the dust off and put it on his thigh. Sickening.

But this was just a holding cell. There were no bunks, no sink, and no toilet. Prisoners couldn’t survive long in conditions like this. They’d die of disease.

He glanced out of the cell. None of the others were occupied. Like he had thought. A holding cell. But what was Rork waiting for?

“Yeah?” Dan finally asked, not turning to look at the pilot.

There was a pause from Marcus, but he finally spoke. “The things you take for granted,” he said. “I thought my life was so dull before all this. Now all I want is to be back home.”

Dan nodded, despite having absolutely nobody. He had been in a break up a few months back. He was ready to move on. Maybe—

A door to the left of their cell groaned open and then slammed against something. Dan looked in that direction, but he couldn’t see down the corridor where the door was.

Footsteps approached.

Shit, Dan thought. It’s Shane…

The scarred man leaned against the makeshift bars, smirking toothily. The bruise across his face made him look almost comical. “You might have made it back,” he said, “but you’re still fucked.”

“Nice bruise, asshole. Your girlfriend’s boyfriend give you that?”

Dan dropped the recorder tech into the dirt after activating it. Dan wouldn’t likely get a chance to get whatever he recorded out of here, but it was worth a shot, even though Shane probably wouldn’t say anything useful.

Marcus regarded Shane through the bars, a half snarl on his face. “What do you want, asshole?”

The man didn’t even address Marcus. “I just came to see you one last time,” Shane rasped. “You probably weren’t expecting this, huh?”

“Fuck you!”

Shane shook his head, smiled again. “You know, this is a lot bigger than you think it is...”

Dan’s heart skipped a beat. He tried not to show how attentive he felt at every word coming out of the bastard’s messed up mouth. He tried to feign boredom. “Yeah? And how’s that?”

Shane started laughing.

Marcus stirred. “What’s so funny?”

“No talking to you, asshole.” Shane turned back to Dan. “Ambassador Silverman is in on it.”

What the fuck? That couldn’t be true. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah,” Shane said. “He bought a whole lot of stock after making this deal with Rork. Turns out, there’s a shit ton of resources previously undiscovered near the planet’s core.”

“Bullshit!”

Shane scoffed. “Why else would anybody want to help that lunatic break from the Alliance?”

Shit. He was right. It made sense!

“Like Rork said,” Shane continued. “The Alliance wants that treaty so bad with the Retuailian Hegemony, they’ll do just about anything to keep the aliens happy. And that includes backing off from anybody they see to be friendly toward them.”

Dan shook his head, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Rork, you idiot. Don’t you get it? He’s going to make it look like he rescued Silverman and the Retuailian Diplomat before some rival clan could take them away. He’s going to look like their savior!”

“So that’s what this is all about,” Dan said. “It always comes down to power hungry assholes and corrupt money hungry politicians. Same old damn story, isn’t it?”

Shane shrugged.

“Why does Ambassador Silverman need Acheron to secede from the Alliance to drill into this hellhole?”

“I can see you’re no business man,” Shane said. He seemed bored. “If Acheron is no longer part of the Alliance, that means no Alliance fucking taxes! More money.”

“And I suppose you get a nice fat fee for helping all this come about?”

Shane smirked. “I’m done with this commando bullshit. I don’t get paid enough to get shot at.”

“You’re just a back biter.”

Shane looked angry. “I’ve served for fifteen years. Fifteen! And for what? I don’t owe the Alliance anything else. The Capital can go fuck itself.”

“What happens to us?” Marcus asked.

Dan felt annoyed at the question.

“Oh,” Shane said. “I almost forgot to mention that part. I heard Rork saying something about holding you two as political prisoners and all that. You know, the guy might be some big shot warlord here on this shithole, but it turns out, he’s really just a big softy that can’t get enough trees to hug and kiss.”

“You were getting to some point?” Dan asked.

Shane glowered at him. “I told you the whole plan. Silverman won’t let you assholes off the planet knowing his part in all this. He’s going to make Rork execute you now that I blew it.” He smiled broadly. “Sorry.”

Marcus’ face contorted. “Fuck!”

“That’s right,” Shane said.

“You fucking asshole!”

Shane shook his head. “Yep.” He started backing away from the cell, laughing. Then he left.

Dan turned off the recorder. He’d gotten what he needed. Now he just had to find a way to escape that death sentence. “It’s going to be all right, Marcus.”

“What? Didn’t you hear him? They’re going to execute us! I’ve got a family! I’ve got—“

“And going bat shit crazy about it isn’t going to help!” Dan redistributed his weight to get more comfortable. “We’ll figure something out.”

Blake raked his hair with a dusty hand.

I better figure something out, Dan told himself. He got up, started searching for week points in the cell bars and door.