Chapter Thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen 

Mo Khan smiled in the darkness. It was late and he was alone in his office. He thought this was his favourite time, when everyone else in the building had gone to bed, except for his four guards silently patrolling the perimeter, two outside and two in, monitoring the electronic and laser surveillance. Not that he seriously expected to be attacked, not considering what had happened to the last man who attempted it, but he was always prepared. 

He'd checked and re-checked his scheme for faults, but he was pretty happy with it. Of course there was an element of risk, there was no such thing as a foolproof plan, but he thought he'd covered all the bases. And best of all, if he pulled it off, he would be hitting two moons with one asteroid. 

XXX 

Jian Chang was also up late. Unlike Khan, he hadn't based himself in a fortress, patrolled by guards and monitored by hitech security systems. He preferred to be constantly on the move, a room here, an apartment there, never tied down to the one spot.  

Jian Chang was not his birth name but it was the most established of the five he was currently using. He collected aliases like other men collected gems. Each one carefully selected and polished, able to be slipped on with a few alterations to his looks and mannerisms. Each backed by immaculately forged IDs and supporting evidence. Physically, he was of average height and build, his black hair and brown eyes the most common colours to be found, although it was a matter of minutes to change them if he wanted to, and his rather plain features were remarkably forgettable. A perfect base to work from. 

Someone had once called him a chameleon, after an ancient Earth lizard which changed its appearance according to its environment. For a while he had toyed with the idea of adopting it as a trademark. Reluctantly he rejected the idea, it would be too revealing, defeating the whole purpose. 

He had a couple of safe havens in the country under different names, for when he needed a break from the constant pressure of perpetual charades. Neither of the couples who acted as caretakers in his absence knew any of his Burran identities, as far as they were concerned, he was a wealthy businessman from Capella who was rich enough to afford a country retreat. Having the two hideaways was expensive but safer, there was less chance of a regular trail for rivals to follow and besides, both businesses were self supporting. The guesthouse he owned in Penrith rented out rooms when he was not in residence and the small farm outside Truro was self sufficient. Not only did it provide enough vegetables for the couple running it to live on, but a small herd of pigs provided meat for the town butcher, and skins to sell to an artisan leatherworker.  

Chang liked to think that one of these days he would retire there. Keep the Barratts on to work the farm and sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labour, maybe he could establish a herb garden. There was a huge demand for fresh herbs, especially on space stations and ships. Maybe he could even get married, have a family if it wasn't too late. 

He winced. That was still a sore spot, even after all these years. Technically he supposed he already had a son, even though he was illegitimate, even though he hadn't seen or heard from him in over seven years. He could remember clearly the day Rob had confronted him in his study. Serious and trying desperately to be as dignified as possible, the boy had told him firmly that he just couldn't be what he wanted, that he needed to follow his own path. 

He'd had the nerve to tell him he was different, that he just didn't have the same values and he didn't want to change, even if he could. Chang had been disbelieving at first, thinking it was some kind of sick joke, but the boy had been adamant. The argument had been bitter and painful, and it had ended with Chang issuing a stormy ultimatum. Either Rob recanted and followed the path his father had always expected of him or he would have to leave and never come back. 

He hadn't been prepared for Rob to take him at his word. In ten minutes he had packed his bag with a few essentials and walked out, his face pale but determined. He'd be back, Chang told himself, it was just a rather severe case of teenage rebellion, Rob would come home soon and everything would go back to normal. But he hadn't. Over the next few weeks and months, Chang had tried to find him but it seemed he had disappeared into thin air, he had changed his name and left Burra entirely. He could be absolutely anywhere. He didn't even know if he was still alive. 

XXX 

Callan was on his fourth ale, feeling happy and relaxed. He noticed that unfortunately, Oliver was being sensible, sipping his third drink slowly, pacing himself. Callan wondered if Oliver had noticed their knees were touching under the bar. Mind you, Dane's thigh was pressed against his on the other side, they were all very close. He drew his stool in even nearer, now he had Oliver's thigh pressed against his leg as well. It felt warm and friendly, the three of them together. 

Maybe he should be happy tonight with what he had, not try and rush things by making a pass. He sipped his ale, enjoying the closeness of his best friend and the man he wanted to be his next lover, chatting idly about their favourite holovids and exchanging funny stories. It felt good, really good. 

Of course, on the other hand, if Oliver showed even the slightest hint of interest he'd be in his bed before either of them blinked. 

Ser Keating looked discreetly at the message on his wristcom. He frowned slightly, looking over at the governor and his two friends. He hesitated for a second, regretting the need to interrupt but he wanted Callan's opinion. Tonight. 

Not wanting to be seen approaching the governor in person, he sent him a signal on his wristcom and waited, watching for the other man to notice and send him an acknowledgement. He could only hope he had not drunk so much he lost his sense of caution. 

Callan looked at the message in disbelief. No! Not now, please. He looked again but the message was still there. Fuck! 

Reluctantly he put his glass back on the counter. "Sorry guys, I've got to go. Business." He looked at each man apologetically. 

"Do you need me too?" Dane asked halfheartedly, assuming the call concerned AISS. 

"I don't think so, not yet anyway." As soon as the words left his mouth, Callan cursed silently. Damn he should have said 'yes', now he'd be leaving the two of them alone together. He was pretty sure Oliver was determined to stick to his self made promise about not getting involved with either of them, but ... he could still feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against his. Their shoulders brushed when either of them reached for their drink. He wasn't exactly keeping his distance at the moment. Damn.

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