Jenna surreptitiously studied Tarvin from where she stood on the flight deck of the LIBERATOR. She had managed to get the dark–eyed Amagon to take off her slave collar and now she was free to act without the immediate threat of having her head blown off; now she could concentrate on getting her crewmates free.
She took a step towards him. "Tarvin, how much are the Federation paying you?" She had decided money was the best tool to use against him — Amagons were notoriously greedy.
"Thirteen million credits for the crew and ship intact. Or twelve million, if I don't give them you," he said, eyeing her, a small smile on his face.
"Supposing I made you a better offer?" she suggested coolly.
He chuckled. "You're a pretty woman, Jenna, but not that pretty." She was as bold and shrewd as he remembered her.
"If you hand over this ship, you'll lose a fortune."
"Me? How can I lose?" he asked, confidently.
Jenna paused as she considered the best way to approach him. "Oh, I'd expect a share."
"Of what?" Tarvin asked somewhat sharply. He was tiring of her game.
"Three hundred million credits, give or take the odd ten million."
Tarvin's eyes widened, then he gave a small scoffing laugh. "You always did underestimate me, Jenna. It seems that now you take me for a fool."
"Oh, no. I think you show great public spirit, giving up all that wealth just to bring Blake to justice."
Tarvin began to get interested despite his doubts. "You can prove what you say, of course?" he asked.
"Of course," she echoed and walked slowly towards the exist.
"You mean it's actually on the ship, this fortune of yours?" He had heard of all the raids Blake had committed; perhaps they had been doing more than just blowing up bases.
Jenna turned abruptly. "Naturally. Why else did you think I'd remain with Blake and his friends?"
He stared her straight in the eye. "Go with her," he ordered one of his men.
"No one is going with me," she said haughtily.
"Do you think I should let you run around loose?"
Jenna walked boldly towards Tarvin. "Now you take me for a fool. Do you think I'd show him where the money is?" she asked with a disdainful nod at Tarvin's man.
"Then stay here. I'll be satisfied with thirteen million credits." He ran his finger gently down the side of her face. "Or twelve million, if the fancy takes me, and I decide to keep you."
Jenna realized she was at an impasse. "Very well," she said softly. She strode confidently to the exit. "Come on," she ordered Tarvin's man as she left.
Tarvin watched her leave with trepidation. He knew she was capable of causing a great deal of trouble if she wanted to. Jenna would have made an admirable Amagon.
He turned to his other warrior. "Bring her crewmates up here where we can keep an eye on them. I don't trust her."
His man gave a brief bobbing bow and hurried to do his master's bidding, his dark robes swirling around him as he left by the same exit.
* * * * *
Jenna was striding through the teleport chamber, preparing herself mentally for an assault on her escort. As she tensed, she heard another pair of footsteps coming towards them and she held back. A second Amagon hurried past giving her a suspicious look. Suddenly fearful as to his task, she followed him. When she caught up to him, he had opened the door to where her friends were being held.
"On your feet! Move," he ordered. "Hands up on your heads where I can see them."
Blake and the others shuffled slowly out into the corridor. They were escorted up to the flight deck without any mishaps.
"Over there," Tarvin gestured, indicating that the prisoners should sit on the floor beneath the main view screen. They complied sullenly.
Tarvin shook his head with amused annoyance. "I see you've managed to get the manacles off; that's not easy. Which of you accomplished it?"
Blake and Vila stared intently at their shoes while Gan and Cally took a sudden interest in the ceiling. Avon merely glared defiantly at Tarvin, his dark eyes smoldering.
"Have it your way," Tarvin shrugged.
President Sarkoff and his companion Tyce watched this scene with frustration. They had been brought onboard the LIBERATOR to be transported to their home world of Lindor where the population was in desperate need of his leadership.
Sarkoff shifted impatiently then spoke up, his tone arrogant. "Tell me, Tarvin, you Amagons recognize facts—"
Tarvin interrupted him. "You talk too much," he said with barely concealed disgust.
Avon's glare was softened by a merest hint of a smile at the Amagon's words. The computer expert didn't have much patience with pompous politicians, either.
Sarkoff continued. "Yes, it's an occupational hazard, I'm afraid. What then is your 'reality'?" he asked Tarvin.
The Amagon stopped to stare at Sarkoff. "Wealth," he stated confidently, smiling.
Avon, unnoticed by anyone, was so startled he looked as if he'd been slapped.
"Is that all?" Tyce asked disdainfully.
Tarvin smiled at her. "What else?"
Sarkoff frowned. "Well, as the rallying cry for a crusade, it lacks a certain…inspiration," he finished lamely.
Tarvin gazed lovingly at the main view screen. "There's my inspiration. The Federation is coming to me." He looked back at the exiled politician. "I summoned them; I'm going to sell them a crusader," he said smugly.
Tyce sneered at him. "You'd sell your grandmother, wouldn't you?"
Tarvin gave her a roguish grin. "I did." At her shocked look, he explained further. "She was going to sell me, I got in first."
"How did you know…she was going to sell you?" Avon's voice was strained.
Everybody turned to stare at him, startled by the emotion apparent in his tone and visible on his suddenly pale face.
"Why do you ask?" Tarvin asked suspiciously.
"Was it because, she had already sold your younger brother?"
Tarvin's eyes widened with shock. "How did you know?" His voice softened. "Kerr?" he asked, disbelief and hope merging together in a poignant plea.
"Kash." Avon started to smile. "I had almost forgotten about you; it's been so long."
Tarvin, a big delighted grin lighting up his face, clapped his hands together. "By all the riches…I can't believe that it's really you! My Gods! Come here you little rascal!"
Suddenly, the two brothers were together on the flight deck, pounding on each other's back with delight.
Without exception, everyone else stared at the two, their faces changing from shock, to disbelief, to dawning horror. Avon was an Amagon!
* * * * *
Avon looked up tiredly from the book he was reading; The Amagon Guide to Better Piracy was fairly basic in principle, but Tarvin had insisted it was required reading.
The computer expert let his eyes roam over the newly redecorated flight deck, noting with amusement the changes. LIBERATOR, as the newest addition to the Amagon fleet, had been refitted in a more appropriate style. Long, graceful sweeps of rich–colored fabrics were draped from the flight deck walls, setting off Zen's blinking fascia to good effect. Oversized satin pillows with tassels were scattered about, adding to the richness.
Avon's gaze rested for a while on Vila, who was seated across from him on the flight deck couch. The thief, with his compulsive need to blend in, had apparently decided that Amagon robes and mustaches were the new dress code on the ship. Since he was not Amagon by birth, his robes were in the neutral colors of rust and camel. Avon thought that they suited him better than the Tarvin household colors of black and purple that Avon himself wore, though sometimes the thief seemed to be swallowed up by the voluminous outfit. The mustache, once he'd gotten used to it, was also an improvement, thought Avon, absently smoothing his own mustache down.
Vila, who was reading the histories of the exploits of Amagons in general, and Tarvin's in particular, glanced up curiously at Avon. The book was exciting reading, written with flair and suspense; it was a style he'd have to emulate, as one of his new duties was to be the ship's storyteller/historian.
Mutual amusement at where this latest strange twist of fate had brought them flashed between them. Avon raised his eyebrows, a faint smile playing around his mouth. Vila answered with a wide grin, shrugging his shoulders; he was content to wander wherever life pushed him, and at least this time, he felt the push was in the proper direction!
Vila idly fingered his belt of gold and finely polished black onyx and rubies as he shifted his attention to Kash Tarvin. With the changes in Avon's appearance, it was easy to see the family resemblance, but even more had changed in Avon than his outer appearance. He had become less tense, less guarded as his conditioning of being a proper Alpha slipped away under the relaxed and humorous influence of his brother. Avon's natural caution had remained, however. Vila smiled as he remembered the ceremony where Avon was officially reinstated as a Tarvin and given co–captain status of the LIBERATOR along with his brother. Avon, in return, had presented Tarvin with a bag that had contained approximately thirteen million credits of jewels from the LIBERATOR's treasury room. Tarvin had grinned, saying that it wasn't necessary, that he would never sell any of them to the Federation. Avon had smiled in return, saying 'Perhaps…but I will feel better if you accept this anyway.' This seemed to delight Tarvin no end, and he clapped his hands together saying 'Gods, I've missed you! I can see you are going to be quite an asset.'
Avon thought about how the rest of the crew was fitting in. Jenna had been no problem, easily adapting to the lifestyle that wasn't very different from her former one as a smuggler. Her style of dress had become subtly more flamboyant, but still as classy as before.
Blake, Gan, and Cally had had more trouble settling in. In fact, Tarvin had been all for selling them to the Federation as planned, since they had voiced strong objections to becoming, as they put it, 'nothing more than common thieves and pirates'. Vila had looked hurt at that, but he had pleaded for Gan and Cally anyway, while Jenna had stated that no one was going to sell Blake to the Federation, period. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Avon had backed Vila and Jenna with a quiet and firm voice. The crew would remain together.
For the moment, the plan was for LIBERATOR and STAR QUEEN to work together. Avon realized from Blake's sullen looks and Cally's stern stares that they would have to intermix a few raids on Federation bases with their other jobs unless he was willing to face a mutiny on his ship. It was little enough to ask and nothing that they weren't already doing. More importantly, it would serve to keep the peace.
Vila, who had been staring distantly into space, suddenly asked, "Avon, how did you know that Tarvin here was your long–lost brother?"
"I didn't know, but I was extremely suspicious when Kash said that wealth was the only reality. You see, Father wanted us to grow up to be good little Amagons, so he had that saying painted on our bedroom wall. I've never forgotten it."
Vila nodded thoughtfully; then, he suddenly straightened. "Tarvin, your mum, did she like puns?"
Tarvin was obviously baffled by the question. "Yes, she was quite fond of them. Why?"
"Ah! I thought so! I bet she liked to call Avon 'Kerry.' Am I right?" Vila was so excited and eager that he positively sparkled with anticipation.
"That's right," murmured Avon. He waited, puzzled but expectant for Vila's revelation.
Vila leaned back with satisfaction. "Beautiful! Kash and Kerry! She was a woman after my own heart!"
* * * * *
The House of Tarvin prospered under the combined intellect and canniness of its new members. In fact, when the Federation was nearly wiped out by attacking Andromedans, the Amagon Empire was officially born. Its sphere of influence grew rapidly as the suddenly vulnerable planets bought 'protection' from them. Amagon control was minimal. The planets prospered and were happy under the loose, but effective, management of one Roj Blake. He was the only Amagon associate willing to take the responsibility.
END