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that the Kyrosen will obey
your orders."
    "And why should I believe that your people
are as trustworthy as you yourself claim to be?"
    "My people follow my orders," Truce said
simply. "If I order them to swear oaths of allegiance to you, they
will be on their knees before I've finished the order."
    "So you say," Kindel said through a wry
smile. "But oaths don't give me any insurance."
    "What would you have me offer, Thorus?
What will it take to convince you of my honesty?"
    Kindel thought for a moment. The Kyrosen
couldn't have much in the way of assets after living in a desert
for so many years. What kind of collateral could he demand that
would be significant enough to force Truce's loyalty? The man had
already stated that he wasn't willing to give up the specifications
of this weapon of his—a wise choice, considering it would pretty
much eliminate any need for him or his people to be involved—and
there was little else Sartan could offer. The Kyrosen didn't
possess much, and material things were easily replaced anyway.
Their society's main strength—and weakness, in Kindel's mind—was
their interdependence on each other. On their own, each Kyrosen was
nothing more than an average sorcerer. But together, they created a
well-oiled machine capable of achieving just about any goal they
set their sights on. However, if a key part of that machine were to
be removed . . . "You shall be my collateral," Kindel finally said.
"I will allow you to conduct a transmission—supervised, of
course—to appoint a new leader to the Kyrosen while I keep you in
custody. You will remain in my prison cells until I possess this
weapon of yours. If the Kyrosen so much as fire one shot in my
direction, or if the weapon turns out to be some kind of fairy tale
invented to deceive me, you will die a slow, painful death,
followed by the rest of your people. If all goes well, however, I
will have you all on transports to wherever it is you want to
go."
    If there was any hesitation or unease about
the plan, Truce never showed it. He slid his hand through the bar
as soon as Kindel finished speaking. "You have a deal."
    Thorus shook his hand, never breaking eye
contact. "Don't think of betraying me, Sartan. You'll be pleading
for mercy the instant you turn your back."
    "You have nothing to worry about, Thorus,"
Sartan assured him. "From this moment on, the Kyrosen are loyal
allies of the Vezulian Armada."
    *******
    "But I don't want him listening in on my
thoughts!"
    Damien slunk down in his chair, though
Kitreena thought she saw the beginnings of a smile in the way the
corners of his mouth were turned. They were alone in the conference
room—one of the few times Kitreena had been able to corner Damien
since the incident on the planet—and now he seemed almost amused by
what had been happening to her. Imagine, her personal thoughts and
feelings on display for Arus to hear! It was frightening and
mortifying all at the same time.
    She dropped into the black cushioned chair
perpendicular to where Damien sat and let her arms hang lazily over
the sides. Usually, nearly thirty people sat around the long
polished table giving reports of their assigned patrols throughout
the universe. The meetings took place every two weeks when Damien's
Covert Operations team convened with the latest information on
enemy activity, whether it be the Deltorian Pirates, the Vezulian
Armada, or any other criminal faction out there that liked to stir
up trouble. The huge screen in the wall at the far end of the table
was often used to display fleet positioning and intelligence
recordings, though it stood blank now. There would be no Covert Ops
meeting today. More important matters needed to be addressed.
    "It's going to take time," Damien finally
said. "You'll learn to control your abilities, but first and
foremost you must develop patience. Without that, anything you
learn will be rushed and incomplete, and you'll never be able to
truly and fully utilize the power you have