Jay Allan - A Little Rebellion

“Where are my manners, admiral? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gavin Stark, and you are my guest.” Stark reached over and slid a bare metal chair closer to the cot. His tone was calm and relaxed. “To answer your first question, we are at Alliance Intelligence headquarters, or more accurately, below it. Sub-Sector B, to be specific.” Stark noticed the startled look on Garret’s face. “I’m afraid Sub-Sector C is a bit more well-known.” Sub-Sector C was Alliance Intelligence’s primary prison and interrogation area, infamous for the brutal methods employed there. “This section is for our more…ah…distinguished guests.” He sat in the chair and smiled. “I can assure you that I have no desire to mistreat you, admiral. It is simply - how shall I put it? - necessary that you be safeguarded for a while.”

Garret was still weak, but his strength was slowly returning, and with it his anger. “Safeguarded?” He was trying to yell, but his dry throat only allowed him to croak out the words. “I am the Director of the Navy and you are holding me against my will. You are guilty of kidnapping, treason, and God knows what else. I demand you release me at…” His voice cut out entirely, leaving him coughing and trying to clear his throat.

“Forgive me, admiral.” Stark got up reached over to a small table, pouring water into a cup from a large metal pitcher. “Here, drink this. I’m afraid the anesthetic we utilized leaves your throat quite parched.” He extended the cup. Garret looked up suspiciously. “Admiral, I am quite certain you are aware that if I wanted to do you harm there is little to stop me. I would hardly have to poison your water.” Stark smiled as Garret continued to stare at him, a doubtful expression on his face. “Truly, admiral. Please. Drink.”

Garret reached out and grabbed the cup, putting it to his lips and taking a deep gulp. He could feel the cool liquid pouring down, soothing his sore throat, driving away the burning thirst.

“Slowly, admiral, please. You may find yourself a bit nauseous if you drink too quickly.”

Garret looked up defiantly and downed the rest in one big gulp, tossing the cup aside. “And Kelly?” He was louder now, and more forceful. “Where is she?”

Stark couldn’t help but admire the admiral. If there was one thing Gavin Stark detested it was weakness. Augustus Garret was many things, but weak was definitely not one of them. Barely awake, held captive in a cell in one of the most feared buildings on Earth, he was a model of command and composure. “Always the gentleman, concerned for the lady’s well-being.” Stark smiled, enjoying the fact that he’d put one over on the great Admiral Garret. “Don’t worry, admiral, I can assure you she is quite well. Even now she is…”

“She’s one of your people.” Garret interrupted as realization dawned on him. “It was a setup from the beginning.” His rage was building, fueled by his frustration with himself for falling into the trap.

“Yes, admiral.” Stark’s voice was unchanged, matter-of-fact, with no gloating or disrespect. “It was necessary to, shall we say, persuade you to join us here. I’m sure you will agree that our little plan was more elegant than, say, throwing a bag over your head and pushing you into a transport.” He looked at Garret and grinned. “And substantially more enjoyable from your perspective, I am sure.” He paused then added, “Indeed, I am sure, having been subjected to the lady’s charms myself.” He smiled again. “Her name is Alex, by the way, not Kelly. An alias seemed appropriate considering the circumstances.”

“What do you want?” Garret was shaking off the grogginess. He was on the verge of losing his temper, but now he was in total control, his command face on. He scanned the room as he spoke, taking stock, looking for possible avenues of escape.

“Actually, very little, admiral.” Stark leaned back, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he spoke. “It was necessary to remove you from direct contact with the naval data net or any of your subordinates, but other than that, the only thing I will require is an occasional DNA sample to override some of the security systems.” Access to certain data banks required DNA from an authorized user, and the systems would detect counterfeit material. “We will extract it most painlessly, I assure you.” He smiled as Garret looked around the room. “Please take my word, Admiral…there is no way out of here. Things will be much easier for everyone if you do not attempt anything foolish.”

Garret leaned up and shifted his feet so he was sitting on the edge of the cot. “So you just plan to keep me hostage?” He looked at Stark, his face impassive. He was enraged, but his iron control had clamped down.

“I would use the word detainee, and I assure you that this action is for the good of the state and is in no way punitive. We will make you as comfortable as possible.” He waved his hand around the room. It looked more like a hotel suite than a prison cell, and the furnishings and appointments were plush. “Not all of our accommodations are up to this standard, I am afraid.”

“You expect me to just sit here while you do whatever it is you are planning?”

“As I do not intend to give you any other options at present, that is exactly what I expect, admiral.” Stark put his hands on his knees and looked at Garret. Let us make the best of this, shall we? Things could be worse.” There was a passing coldness in Stark’s voice that chilled even Garret’s battle-hardened soul. “It is fortunate that I do not need more from you. As I am sure you are aware, there are occupants of this building in rather more distress than you right now. We have numerous methods of…persuasion, some of which are quite unpleasant.”

Garret’s eyes narrowed, focusing like lasers on Stark’s. He was trying to decide if he’d just been subtly threatened. “Whatever you are planning, it won’t work. You will never get away with it.”

Stark rose slowly from the chair. “Admiral, I sympathize with your frustration, however I assure you that we are both loyal servants of the state. I am not, as you so pointedly put it, trying to get away with something. I am doing what must be done for the security of the Alliance.” He looked down at Garret. “We need not be enemies, admiral.”

Garret stood up, his eyes never leaving Stark as he did. His legs were still a little wobbly, but he held himself rigidly, not showing any weakness. “Are you suggesting that I would take any actions contrary to the security of the Alliance?” His cool composure was cracking just a bit. Augustus Garret had served in the navy his entire adult life; he sacrificed everything else important to him, even the only woman he’d ever loved…duty was all that mattered to him. “I am no traitor.” His tone was icy, coldly threatening.

Stark stepped back a bit; the two had been standing close to each other, and he wanted to defuse Garret’s temper. “Admiral, I meant no offense.” He paused, trying to decide how much he wanted to say. “But we are in uncertain times, and we may have to take specific actions, actions I was uncertain you would be willing to be a part of. Let’s just leave it at that for now.” He turned and walked toward the door.

“If you think you can turn the navy into your blunt instrument, you’re going to have to do a lot more than kidnap me.” Garret was struggling to maintain his cool. The thought of his beloved navy being a tool of Alliance Intelligence was too much to bear. He tried to push the thoughts back, but he couldn’t banish the visualizations in his head…images of naval ships bombarding Alliance colony worlds. Killing the very people they had fought so hard to protect.

“Get some rest, admiral. It will help you recover from the after effects of the drugs.” He looked at the scanner next to the door. “Open.”