The young woman lying on the cot in her cell listened to the fearful sobs of her fellow inmates. The walls were sound proof, but that did nothing to keep their anguish from reverberated within her mind. Closing her eyes she allowed her mind to reflexively close and block it out. She sighed in despair, knowing it was only a matter of time before she would no longer be able to do just that; before the witch doctors would cut into her brain, removing the ability to isolate herself. She knew because she had seen it happen half a dozen times already.

The doctors were surprisingly naïve, they actually believed the ‘students’ didn’t know. They thought that by keeping them separated there was no way for them to tell what happed to those they took away. They could not have been more wrong though; not only did she know, they all knew. They could feel the violations they performed on each others minds through the sound proof walls; they could feel the terror and the pain; and worst of all, could even feel the death. If fact, it was only through their ability to communicate through the tenuous mental connection that any of the students managed to keep anything resembling a grasp on sanity. They consoled one another, counseled each other, they even shared stories and the occasional joke amongst themselves. That was not what had happened tonight though. Tonight they had had to say good bye to one of their own. A boy named Lewis had been taken to that operating room that they all knew tool well. It was the place where they violated minds; raping not his body, but his sanity. And as they did not sedate their patient during this procedure, they never did, they had all felt the shattering of his mind, and his subsequent descent into madness.

He had sent one last thought to them all before they had finally ripped away the vestiges of his own tenuous grasp of control over his own mind. “Goodbye.”

Focusing her self-control, the young woman opened her mind again, reaching out, seeking her friends. After a moment, they were there, but so were the violated remains of their friend, sobbing, screaming. The boy had survived the operation, but Lewis was gone, shattered like a china cup on a marble floor. Tears rolled down the young woman’s cheeks, it was always so much worse when they lived. The intensity was too much, and despite her conscious effort, her mind reflexively closed the connection.

It was a long time that she lay awake, unable to sleep, when she felt the gentle touch of another girl’s mind. It was her friend Elizabeth. They wrapped one another in their thoughts, consoling each other, the same as one might expect to see mourners at a funeral hold one another for comfort.

Soon they felt the brush of other minds, other students, as they all tried to cope with the fear that any one of them could be next. Luckily it didn’t happen often. It would be some time before the doctors would choose another; before they would lead another of them to that horrible room. They had at least several months, maybe even a year; Lewis had been a powerful psychic, and they would need time to fully examine their new toy, to dissect him.

Now was not the time for blind fear, now was the time for them to recover, at least as best as they could. It was time to tell stories and remember the Lewis that was, and push from their minds the monster that now existed.

It was not long before it happened. The girl smiled. It always happened after one of their own was taken. One of the older students began to tell a story; not just any story, the story of the girl that escaped. There were other stories of students that had escaped, but this was the only one that some of the other older students still remembered first hand. The only one they remembered seeing through her eyes, seeing through her broken mind as her brother had taken her away. He had come into that horrible room like a shining knight walking into the den of the most mighty and evil of dragons, all to rescue his princess. It was a memory that they shared with the younger students to give them hope, however false it may be, that somewhere there was someone that would come and take them away. It was a lie of course, as security had been increased tenfold since that event. Regardless, it was a lie they all cherished as if it were the most precious of Bible truths, for it was the only thing that allowed them to continue on.

The girl closed her eyes, this time not with concentration, but with fatigue. As she slipped into sleep she dreamed of her own fantasy knight.

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Jason Libby walked across the shipyard behind the sales man, his friend Rick Orlan tagging along behind him.

“Well, based on the budged that you have indicated, your gonna be lookin’ at one of the smaller personal transports like I got over here. If it’s just one person, or even the two ‘o you, that’s prolly best anyways. Ships much larger n’ that n’ your gonna need a crew of ‘least half a dozen.”

“Since when did I get included in this little adventured,” wondered Rick aloud.

“Course, not ta say you can’t find folk ta sign on. Findin’ crew, that’s fairly easy,” rambled on the salesman, “but findin good crew; well, that’s a might different.”

“I think this might be your lucky day though; got a few pretty nice models down here just waiting for the right owner.”

As he followed along, Jason looked around at the assortment of the ships that littered the area in various states of functionality, or lack thereof. He was being led toward several small ships at the edge of the lot large enough to carry one or two people and not much else. They looked shiny enough from the outside, at least in the literal sense of the word, but Jason knew that it was what was inside that really mattered. Hell, any hunk of junk could be sand-blasted and buffed to a shine that could turn heads, but that didn’t change a bit what it was underneath. He would need to take his time examining carefully anything that the salesman tried to push onto him.

Several hours had passed and Jason had climbed into each of the small personal transports, examining the cockpits, inspecting the wiring under the control consoles, and especially taken his time going over the engines.

During this time Rick had followed him and stood idly by watching his friend with amusement. He wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew what he was doing or if he was just trying to look like he did. Either way, he could tell as Jason climbed out from under the engine housing of the last ship that he was less than impressed with anything he had seen all day.

The salesman apparently could tell as well, and tried a new sales pitch. “Well, I know they need some work, but as there’s only a small market for used personal transports here on Persephone, won’t find much else less’n you go new.

Jason looked around the lot at the other ships. “Well I’m really just looking right now. Not aiming to buy right away.”

The salesman’s face fell. He knew that those words meant any chance of making a sale was fading fast. Gorramit, he remembered when all it took was a good sand blasting and a coat of paint to move a wreak. He was surprised when the young man spoke again.

“I saw a couple of mosquito micro-transports on the walk out here; most likely a bit out of my price range, but I wonder if I might take a look at them.”

“Dunno if that’s what would do ya. Like I said before, when ya get into the transport classes yer lookin’ at hirin’ a crew.” The salesman of course, was only leading into his next pitch. “Course those skeeters ‘r just small enough… Well the two ‘o you‘d be a stretch, but maybe not too much. Being they’re a little older I could per-maybe-haps give you a better deal ‘n you might expect.”

“I thought I was not a part of this,” repeated Rick. “What part of ‘not a part’ are you not getting…” he said to his friend who just slapped him on the arm good naturedly and followed after the salesman.

As it happened, Jason did know somewhat what he was looking at when it came to ships. He had always had an interest since childhood, and despite his parent’s attempts to interest him in something more becoming his social status of the time, he had spent a good deal of his free time looking at and researching them. He had even eventually studied engineering for those few years of higher learnin’ his friend so liked to bring up. And what he knew, told Jason that thought a bit rusted on the outside, the two small micro-transports were in remarkably good shape.

The first of the mosquitoes was in near perfect condition structurally. Its engine however, was shot. The bearings were frozen from sitting in the shipyard and there was evidence several of the manifolds had been blown before hand; most likely the reason it had been retired. There was overload damage to the electronics in the cockpit as well.

As he went over the ship Jason began putting the clues together. From the damage, it was almost certain that the ship had been taken out by an energy weapon of some sort while it was still in its prime. It was also clear that, until then, it had been owned by someone who took pride in her, and kept her shipshape. That owner had likely been a smuggler though, and one day her luck had run out.

It must have broken her owner’s heart, thought Jason, when she had been towed planet-side and left to rot in some scrap yard. Then he noticed the hull breach above the aft cargo bay. It was just forward of the engine compartment. A perfectly circular hole burned clear through the top of the ship. Following the angle of the wound Jason looked down at the floor plating. And identical hole could be seen in the corner of the cargo bay’s floor. Only two things were powerful enough to cut a hole that cleanly through an entire ship. The first was an industrial laser of the sort employed at a shipyard like the one that had built her; the second was a pulse laser from an Alliance cruiser. As Jason was pretty sure the hole did not come as a factory feature, he knew that the owner’s heard had not only been broken, it had just plain stopped.

Jason forced the unpleasant image from his mind and returned to the task of sizing up the vessel. With a new engine and some upgraded cockpit electronics, she would make one fine ship. It was the sort of project he might have taken on for fun in a different life. Of course, that different life was long since gone and Jason had more pressing things to focus his time and effort on.

Jason moved onto the other ship. Though it also showed signs of being more or less well maintained, it clearly had not been as loved as its sister sitting next to it. It was a well worn vessel that had seen many years of hard use, and by Jason’s estimation, it also had many more years left in her. As he checked over the Capisan 80-10 engine, he satisfied himself that it would at least not fall out of the sky as many mechanics would have you believe; at least not much. He would have preferred something more along the lines of a pulse compression block engine, as the much larger fireflies had, but one takes what one can get. At least it wasn’t a Capisan 68; the engineers must have been hung over when they designed that one.

As he came back outside the salesman was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak first. “Well, she’s definitely seen some use, n’ quite a bit of use at that.”

“That one’s still a fine ship though,” replied the salesman, this time speaking honestly. The young mark in front of him had surprised him with his astute understanding of used spacecraft.

“Both of ‘em are fine ships,” corrected Jason. “Some ways, I think the others a mite nicer. Course, this one’ll still fly as is.” He took one more look at the other mosquito.

“True, and that ain’t nuthin. Shame what those Alliance hu dahn did to her.” Jason was surprised at the sincere disgust that dripped from the tongue of the salesman. It was probably the first honest thing the man had said all day. He had never understood so far the venomous contempt with which many people held the Alliance.

Realizing the lapse in his salesmanship, the man quickly added with a grin, “Well, maybe if’n you make yer fortune in this one here, you can come back and fix her up proper. Have two ships!”

“Maybe just,” replied Jason returning the smile. “Course, that brings us back to the issue of my budget.”

The salesman made a show of considering this. “Well, you and I both know this ship ain’t gonna fall within that range, but for someone such as yerself, a true con-o-sour, I think I could make a special deal. Maybe something you ‘n your friend here together could afford. He quoted a figure roughly twice that of the budget Jason had specified.

The salesman waited as Jason took a very agitated Rick aside to discuss the offer privately.

“Gorramit Jason, I aint’ spending what little I got from that settlement to go into this with you!”

“Shush it Rick, jus’ do me a favor and pretend like your considering it.”

Rick just glared at him. Jason signed and turned around. Walking back to the salesman, Jason waited just the right amount of time before he spoke, “That’s a damn fine deal sir. I’ll be the first to say it’s more ‘n fair.” He paused again for effect, “but, well, I’m sorry.”

“I guess I shoulda never asked to look at these two skeeters ‘n given you the idea I could swing it,” he continued. “My friend here has a sick daughter ‘n, well, don’t think we could come up with more ‘n three quarters of that.”

Jason reached out with his mind to try and sense any emotion from the other man as he turned to walk away. Oops, pushed too hard. “Eighty percent best,” he added over his shoulder. “And I must say it shames me terribly to say it.”

As Jason and Rick began to walk off the lot, the salesman watched them leave. “Gorramitt!” he muttered and chased after them.

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Later that afternoon they waited for the ship to be delivered to the plot of land that Jason had negotiated from his settlement. It was uncertain as to when, or for that matter how, the shipment would be delivered. In the mean time, the two men where sitting in old lounge chairs by an old cargo container that Rick had been using as a temporary home talking about everything, and nothing, in particular.

“Dammit Jay, ya coulda told me that you were only conn’n the guy,” exclaimed Rick.

“Hell, Rick, you know how much I’m worth. You were with me in that damn court room… Don’t be stupid.”

“Still, you were so damn convincing. Suppose this makes up for it though,” Rick pulled another beer from the cooler that was positioned between their two chairs. “Ain’t never hand a vacation before.”

Jason threw back his head with laughter, “Rick, you have no idea what a vacation is. This is just unemployment; slight difference.”

“S’pose,” replied Rick. “N’ that’s another issue I gotta deal with.”

“What’s that.”

“What I’m gonna do with myself,” said Rick. “I hate to admit it but… Hell Jay, I don’t know how ta quit deal with being un-bonded. This is well and good, but even at our meager lifestyle the cash is gonna run out on me and my folks.”

There was a silence for a moment. “Thought you might consider coming with me. I’ll pay you enough to cover your folks.”

“Rutt you, Jay. We need to sort this out once and for all. I am not coming with you on some cockimame quest to find your sist. N’ I aint sayin’ that’s a bad thing, cus it ain’t, but its not where I belong. Times come for us to split ways mate.”

“Can’t say I don’t see your reasoning, but I also see something else,” replied Jason.

“The hell you talking about.”

“You want to go, Rick.”

“The hell I do.”

“The hell you don’t,” said Jason. “The way you your always questioning me bout other planets and moons I been too as a boy, the look in your eyes when I talk about ‘em. I realize it’s not my place to drag you onto a ship, and I’ll be the first to admit that, but I really think you wanna go with me; for your own reasons. Look, all I’m doing is offering you the chance to get of this rock and see some of the others. Just think about it.”

Rick was about to reply but Jason cut him off before he had the chance.

“It’s here.”

“What?” asked Rick.

“Willowbrook Shire,” it was the name of his former family estate.

Rick was now certain that his friend had lost his mind. They both knew Willowbrook Shire had long since been demolished, its orchards cut down, and its fields dug up, all for the construction of some damn casino. There was no longer any question as he drained the beer in his hand. His best friend was ready for the funny farm, complete with padded rooms and a straight jacket.

As he set the bottle down he became aware of the low hum of engines overhead. He looked up to see the form of a massive airship loom into view above the nearby trees. Under it, slung low in cargo straps was the form of the spaceship that Jason had purchased.

As the airship lowered the craft into the clearing in front of him, his eyes ran over the sleek lines of the small cargo craft; across the bow where newly painted letters proclaiming her newly registered name, “Willowbrook Shire.”

TO BE CONTONUED ---------------------------------------

Author's Note: I failed to mention in my frist post this is my first fiction here. I've been lurking for some time just reading. I actually surprised myself when I felt the inspiration to write the first part of this story. I was even more surprised when I found the courange to post it. Please be gentle with me and hopefully the intertia will continue.

P.S. It ain't my 'verse, I'm just borrowing it.