The Three-Handed Game 43

The Siohonin had completed whatever project needed the crystal, and now the prisoners were assigned to straightforward mining tasks - extracting kelbonite ore, one of the Remans had said. It was relentless, punishing, tiring work, but it had one advantage. There was no way the Siohonin could monitor everything that went on at the workface, so the prisoners had opportunity to talk, and to plan....

"I have their patrol pattern logged," Therya whispered to Daniella one day. The tall, fierce Reman had established herself as a natural leader - she had been in the early Reman resistance, they said, had even worked under Obisek himself. She looked down at the human woman from her great height, now, and her eyes burned in her starved face.

Daniella looked down at her hands, calloused and filthy from hauling ore. There had been a time, once, when she had been free, had dreamed of being a dancer.... Dreams. It all seemed like a dream now, an impossible one. The Federation, Farnon's World... her family, her friends... all gone. Reality was the mines, was the never-ending toil, was the arbitrary harshness of the Siohonin guards.

But, underneath the fear and the exhaustion and the semi-starvation, there still burned a deep core of fire within her... a core that said to her that no, she was no Siohonin slave, she was a free woman... and would stay free, or die trying, no matter what they did to her.

She looked at Therya and whispered back, "What do you need?"

"A group passes through Gallery 12 and then doubles back along the upper level every hour," the Reman said. "They have to take the narrow turning in single file. The priest always goes second from last... I think, if we can take the last guard out quickly, one or more of us can jump the priest and get that damned rod off him. We need to stage a distraction on the upper level to draw the three guards who go ahead... Raya, T'Nol and Kahra will do that."

"So who takes the last guard and the priest?"

"I take the guard. You're small enough to hide in that little niche just by the turn. When you hear me jump the guard, you take the priest." She grinned; it was an unsettling sight. "The guard won't take me long, so I'll help with the priest, if you need it."

She was tired, sore, aching... Daniella realised that she was nowhere near too tired to try and hit back at the Siohonin priests. "When?"

"Fourteen minutes." The Reman seemed to have a clock in her head. "You do know we'll probably all get killed?"

Daniella glared up at her. "Then we die on our feet, not on our knees," she snapped.

Therya gave a harsh, whispering laugh. "You're learning, human," she said.

---

Gallery 12 was a long, low-roofed one, which ran at an odd angle to the main mining shafts. The route through the mine was a complicated one, and it took the patrols some time to cover it... and, as Therya had said, there was a narrow chicane to negotiate, before the Siohonin could reach the upper tunnel that ran towards their barracks.

"If it heartens you any," whispered Therya, as Daniella squeezed herself into a crevice in the rocks, "the priests haven't burned anyone in days. There's a rumour going around that their damned rods don't work any more."

Daniella smiled without mirth. "Guess I get to find out." The Reman grinned back at her.

"I hear boots," she said. "Good luck." And she was gone, into the darkness.

Boots. The Siohonin guards wore boots. The prisoners were issued with soft shoes that wore through on the rocks in no time.... Daniella thought about her feet, scarred and calloused. Once she had had a dancer's feet.

The Siohonin were coming. She could hear their voices, harsh and querulous as they talked among themselves. They had been different, of late. The punishments, the vile things they did, those had not changed... but the guards themselves seemed sullen, withdrawn, hostile to each other as well as to the prisoners.

They were coming. Daniella squeezed herself tighter into the crevice, and held her breath. The first Siohonin came into view, she could see him through a small slit in the rock, perhaps he couldn't see her -

Then he sparkled with blue-white light, and faded, and was gone.

There was no more sound of marching feet. Cautiously, Daniella unfolded herself from the crevice. There were soft footsteps, and Therya came into view. She looked dumbfounded.

"Transporters," she said, in a sort of amazed monotone. "Those were transporter beams...."

Daniella nodded. "Federation transporters. Blue lights."

They stood and stared at one another, and then a voice spoke from all around them. The mine's public address system, Daniella realized - but it had never spoken with a voice like this.

"Attention, please, all prisoners. This is Rear Admiral Skolek aboard the USS Allegheny. Your Siohonin captors have been transported to detention facilities. Medical and support staff are beaming down now. Please make yourselves known to them, and we will provide immediate care, take any statements you wish to make concerning your treatment in captivity, and arrange for your repatriation and return to your homeworlds. We are here to help you in every way we can. Please do not hesitate to make your needs known. You are free, and we are here to help."

Daniella's jaw dropped. "It's... over?" she whispered.

"Yes." Therya swallowed audibly. "It's over... they must have beaten them. Beaten the Siohonin... the priests and their damned wands.... It's over. It's over."

The two of them hugged each other fiercely, and burst into long delayed tears.