AN: A sequel to 'Race to the Devil' - Kolya, Sheppard & Todd were just such fun to write for it seemed a shame to put them back in their boxes so soon. Once again this is an AR story to which I've added some new characters in an effort to make it something more than just a chase through the galaxy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Atlantis or the main characters in this story – I'm just borrowing them for a short while.

Flight of the Demons

Prologue...

"I told Colonel Sheppard you'd get a fair trial and I mean to follow through on that promise."

To be more precise, Ladon Radim had actually promised Acastus Kolya would be given a trial with a guilty verdict at the end. It was a result he still meant to deliver but, while latent mockery permeated his words as they echoed against the cold stone walls of Kolya's cell, derision was not the only emotion that now guided the Genii leader's attitudes towards his prisoner.

He bit his bottom lip thoughtfully as he watched and waited for Kolya's response. Dealing with this persistent thorn in his side had seemed so simple on that faraway world when Colonel Sheppard and that Wraith had been persuaded to hand the renegade over. It had been a significant moment in his leadership. Having Kolya under his control had provided a sense of relief and satisfaction rivaled only by that he had felt when detonating the bomb that had terminated Chief Cowen's leadership of the Genii.

But he should have known that things would not be that simple. They rarely were. Almost as soon as he had brought his former mentor back to the Genii home world, back to familiar places imbued with memories of their former relationship, the situation had, perhaps inevitably, changed. It became a deeply personal drama played out against the chequered history the two protagonists had shared. A history that had increasingly infiltrated Ladon's mind with a plethora of niggling and conflicting feelings as he tried to determine the best way to deal with the rival who now sat before him in the small cell.

There had been a time when he had admired Kolya - his professionalism, his determination to succeed - and had followed him without hesitation on that unsuccessful mission to seize Atlantis. He had learned so much from the man. How to be a good soldier, something that had not come easily to a man whose main interest had always been science. How to plot and scheme against men he saw as ineffective and, perhaps most importantly for a leader, how to take life and then justify his actions in the name of the common good of the Genii people. But the respect that had underpinned that admiration and loyalty had dissolved quickly once Ladon seized power for himself, swept aside by the strategic need to neutralize what Kolya had become - a potent threat to his own leadership.

Or so he had thought. Gradually he had come to understand that his determination was being shaken by something he was unable to control, that while respect for another man could be lost, the character traits that had inspired that respect and loyalty in the first place were not so easy to forget. True, their power to persuade was far less pervasive but, despite his best efforts to ignore them, those traits still stirred Ladon's conscience enough for him to now consider giving Kolya a 'fair' trial.

For his part, Acastus Kolya knew he would have found it difficult not to gloat over Ladon's misfortune if their positions had been reversed, although he would have delivered his taunts face-to-face rather than hiding behind the safety of a locked cell door. So listening to Ladon's declaration, he just lowered his eyes to focus on his large, rough hands, shook his head dismissively and remained seated on the hard bunk that took up one corner of the very sparsely equipped holding cell.

When he finally spoke, his calm, deep voice carried more than a hint of scorn. "Of course Ladon, we all know you're a man of your word and I have no doubt my punishment for holding ambitions that conflict with yours, will be as thorough as you promised Colonel Sheppard. I understand your need to stay in the favor of Atlantis in order to maintain your position among our people."

Aiming this last barb squarely at Ladon's authority and pride, Kolya lifted his eyes as he finished speaking and watched it strike home very effectively.

Ladon stepped closer to the bars of the cell and while the door remained locked, the raised timbre of his voice signaled his irritation. "I am leading our people because I have the vision and ability needed to develop our military strength and you're going on trial because you're a renegade set on destroying my regime," he paused momentarily, annoyed that he had allowed Kolya's words to bait him but not prepared to ignore such a blatant challenge. "Not because of any influence or pressure from Atlantis."

Kolya smiled wryly, his eyes sweeping Ladon's face, a face that had aged since that raid on Atlantis, searching for yet another potential line of attack. This mental and verbal sparring provided a rare chance to engage his mind in something more stimulating than his own memories and he wanted, no, he needed, to make the most of the opportunity.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself Ladon. Like many things you've achiev-" he stopped as his pride refused to acknowledge that his nemesis had achieved anything worthwhile. "Like many things you've done, I'm sure if you repeat the story often enough others will also come to believe what an effective leader you are."

Ladon remained silent as his face transformed into a sombre mask to hide his emotions. When he eventually spoke, his voice was controlled, free of the anger that had driven his previous response, a clear signal the tide had turned. "If these ridiculous little forays against my authority make you feel better Kolya, go right ahead, do your best. But I can assure you they'll have no effect whatsoever on your future. You've failed yet again and that's how you'll be remembered by future generations of our people, a man whose whole life was just one pathetic failure after another."

With that he was gone, leaving Kolya to contemplate the cruel appraisal in the solitude of his own company.

-o-o-o-o-

The trial was showy yet controlled – a powerful affirmation of Ladon's success and an equally dramatic reminder of Kolya's failure. It did not last too long because it did not need to.

The three interrogators, the men charged with passing judgement, were hand-picked by Ladon, men who had never wavered in their support for the former chief scientist. The several witnesses were men whose support had either been shunned by Kolya or had never been sought in the first place, men who welcomed the opportunity for revenge. Some faces in the watching crowd could be classified as friendly but they kept their loyalties well hidden and Kolya respected that choice even though it served to emphasize the isolation of his position.

The case for the prosecution was entirely predictable. The former commander had been disloyal to Chief Cowen and plotted to overthrow the tyrant before Ladon's successful coup. His disloyalty had then been transferred to the new leader as he worked to organize a counter-coup.

Of course Kolya knew most of their stories, knew they were undeniably true and it would be futile to argue otherwise. No, all he could do was reaffirm his belief that he was the man who should be leading the Genii. Not because he was disloyal to anyone as the witnesses against him were stating so unequivocally, rather because he genuinely felt that he would be a better leader than either Cowen or Ladon. It was a belief that still burned strongly in his heart and when the trial began he was confident enough to think he could sway some of his accusers to his way of thinking. For two days he sat silently watching proceeding with a calm dispassionate face that some whispered was stamped with guilt.

Ladon's idea of injecting fairness into the trial was to allow the defendant an opportunity to speak for himself. But the court never heard Kolya's story because when the time finally came to present his case he remained silent. Pride was one of the few things he had left, so to keep it intact he refused to resort to a futile argument he knew would not sway his accusers, preferring instead to accept the fate that had been inevitable since the day of his capture. That day when Sheppard and his Wraith ally had walked away from taking their full revenge on him and had placed his destiny in Ladon's hands.

-o-o-o-o-

So Acastus Kolya was duly sentenced as an enemy of the Genii people rather than the empire builder he had once dreamed of becoming.

Little time was wasted before he was transported to his new home, yet another isolated world on the outer edges of the galaxy. Not one that had been settled by the Genii, indeed the identity of its original inhabitants had been lost in time, but with its location known only to a select few, the Genii had simply modified it to suit their purpose as a prison farm. The stargate was reconfigured to make it impossible to dial out which meant the need for guards was kept to a minimum. The few buildings that comprised the prison farm were surrounded by fields, some dotted with livestock but most carried crops irrigated by water drawn from the artesian basin by large windmills. The facility had no outer fence because there was no need for one. The hostile environment beyond its boundaries lacked any of the basic resources essential for survival and so acted as a better deterrent than any fence. All-in-all it was a harsh, isolated world from which escape was deemed to be impossible.

Only about a dozen prisoners were incarcerated there, each, like Kolya, labelled a 'political' prisoner. Men, who for various reasons, had refused to acquiesce to Ladon's authority and, more importantly, had taken the path of actively challenging the legality of the coup against Cowen. Kolya knew them all, some better than others. Like him they were basically solitary men who preferred their own company yet still managed to inspire others to follow their particular cause through either their rhetoric or their actions.

They lived in barrack-style accommodation, each with their own small room that held only the most basic equipment – a bed, small wardrobe, a chest of three drawers, a table and a single chair. Meals were eaten in a communal dining area. Bland, uninspiring dishes prepared by a former scientist who had taken a more comfortable job in preference to the physical labour his peers endured out in the fields. Communication was limited away from the communal area, not that they had much to say to each other anyway. The irony of their situation was not lost on any of them. Each had followed his own individual course of opposition and only now, as they contemplated the futility of their lives as prisoners, did they come to realize that they might have succeeded if they had acted collectively.

For his part, Kolya was finally forced to become the man he had worked so hard all his life to avoid becoming – a farmer. Days were filled with hard physical labour that just marked the passing of time without having any focus, an existence that demanded significant adjustment for a man whose life had been spent working towards the unwavering goal of power. It had not taken long to confirm, as if he needed such confirmation, that the wretched Wraith had been quite right in his assessment of the situation. While the scheduled precision of prison life provided some comfort to a man whose former life had been built on ideals of strong character and self-discipline, in reality he was living a half-life. And, as he had feared all along, a half-life with no meaning and no purpose really was far worse than death, even a painful death at the hands, or rather the hand, of a Wraith.

So the days turned into months until Kolya lost track of how long he had been there, not that it was important anyway. While ambition still burned in his heart, it was buried so deep it might just as well have been extinguished because, as every leader understood, ambition without resources led nowhere and he was totally devoid of resources beyond those needed to survive.

But despite this melancholy air of resignation, Ladon's final words, "that's how you'll be remembered by future generations of our people, a man whose whole life was just one pathetic failure after another", still spun a silent web around the paths of Kolya's mind. So, while he was not always aware of it, they were nurturing a tiny spark of determination to survive, a spark that would reignite quickly into a fire if an opportunity for escape and, perhaps more importantly, revenge ever came his way.

Eighteen months later...

John Sheppard leaned back in his chair and looked around the large table that filled the Conference Room. Yet another de-briefing and through half-closed eyes he watched as McKay recounted the details of their last off-world expedition. While anything but the most basic reconnaissance had been ruled out by the large and extremely hostile animals that inhabited the facility, the sketchy outline of their visit still made an interesting tale. The responses from those listening were predictable though so Sheppard's attention touched only fleetingly on most of the faces.

Ronon was making no attempt to hide his boredom. He had been on the mission so had his own interpretation of events which, as often happened, would be far simpler than McKay's excited exposition.

Teyla was interested and keen to join any return trip. She had missed the mission, deciding instead to make one of her increasingly frequent visits to her fellow Athosians. Sheppard had been pleased when she started making these visits; while she had become a key member of his team, it was essential that she retained her links with the other human races of the Pegasus galaxy.

Keller too was interested in Rodney's story but lacked Teyla's enthusiasm for further exploration. The others, including Major Lorne, wore the resigned look of those who had stumbled across similar worlds during their missions out into the galaxy and found little new in the story.

So, perhaps inevitable, the majority of Sheppard's attention, the part he liked to think was attuned to critical assessment, focused on their new leader, Richard Woolsey, and the myriad of expressions that were criss-crossing his face in response to McKay's report. Expressions that ranged from interest to disbelief, culminating in doubt as Rodney finally finished the report. But like the politician he was, Woolsey quickly brought his personal views under control and assumed a mask of imperturbability before responding.

Sheppard was mildly impressed. Woolsey might only be a couple of weeks into his new role here but it was obvious the years of experience gained working within and around the professional tensions and jealousies that characterized IOA operations had provided more than adequate training in dealing with straightforward situations or information. Sheppard frowned. For all their sakes, he hoped Woolsey's capacity to understand the logistical and political intricacies of dealing in this galaxy light years away from home was equally as well developed. Somehow he doubted it.

"Thank you Doctor McKay, that was very informative and I think such circumstances may warrant further exploration. Major Lorne's team bolstered by an additional detachment of marines will return to see if it's possible to deal with the native fauna so we can send in a science team." Woolsey's tone was final and Sheppard was immediately both annoyed and disappointed by the decision to send Lorne's team rather than his own.

"We've already been there. We know our way around so surely it makes more sense for us to go back." Leaning forward to rest his hands on the table, Sheppard tried to keep the antagonism out of his voice but a quick look at the faces turned in his direction confirmed he had failed.

"No Colonel, I don't believe it does," Woolsey replied as he started to fuss with the pile of papers sitting on the table in front of him before looking around the table. "So unless anyone has anything more to report, I think we're finished for now."

Sheppard's irritation rose further but before he could open his mouth to argue, Woolsey stood up, collected his papers and started to walk out. As the Conference Room doors opened he turned and looked directly at his second-in-command. "There's nothing more to be said Colonel. The responsibility for this expedition is mine and I've made my decision."

With irritation finally turning to outright anger, Sheppard took a deep breath to help control his feelings. This was a clear undermining of his own authority as the senior military officer and he knew his team, Keller and Lorne were waiting for his reaction. When he made no attempt to argue further they just got up and followed Woolsey out of the room. Only McKay remained and Sheppard knew immediately this was one of those rare occasions when the scientist felt it was his duty to look beyond his own needs to offer some advice.

"Don't start Rodney. I don't want to hear it."

"No, you probably don't but I'm going to say it anyway. Woolsey's right in a way, we're too important a team to be sent to deal with a few wild animals." Sheppard shook his head, knowing that McKay's use of the word important referred primarily to himself but he waited for the scientist to finish. "Look, we're stuck with him, you might as well accept it and get used to it."

Just the advice he had expected but Sheppard was still inclined to dismiss it as irrelevant to his opinions about the situation. "Yeah? Just ignore it?" he paused to take a long deep breath in an effort to steady his thoughts. "Look, okay, I'll admit this is something relatively minor Rodney but he's made the wrong choice. What'd you think's going to happen when he's got to make a decision about something important and he falls back on IOA protocols rather than the experience we've pulled together from operating here in Pegasus? How will he deal with something that comes at us out of left field?"

"You mean something like Todd turning up to pass the time of day or tempt us with an offer we can't refuse?" McKay clearly did not expect an answer and it was obvious from the look on his face that he was starting to wish he had just walked away with the other three and left Sheppard to work through his problems with Woolsey in his own way. It was a tried and tested strategy he had adopted before and things had always turned out okay – well most of the time anyway. So now he was left looking for a way to finish this conversation and get back to doing something he did know how to handle. "Look I know you miss Sam, we all do. And I'm sorry you didn't get chance to say goodbye to her. But what's done is done and-"

"Is that what you think this is about? Missing Sam? Unexpected transfers are a part of military life Rodney, I know, I've had more than my share of them," he turned and looked accusingly at McKay. "And by now you should understand how the military works too. No, this is about how it was done. Recalling her to attend some ceremony with SG-1 and then telling her she'd been relieved of command here. It was unprofessional, uncalled for and smacks of IOA arrogance."

Watching the emotion on Sheppard's face, McKay's voice softened in an attempt to lower the tension building between them. "Elizabeth was a civilian. You worked okay with her."

Sheppard laughed bitterly. How quickly the reality of past situations faded from people's memories. "Yeah, although it took time for us to understand each other and, just in case you've forgotten, we had some pretty serious disagreements along the way. But that was different and you damned well know it. Elizabeth wasn't IOA; in fact she distrusted them as much as I do and fought her own battles with them. Plus we started this whole expedition together and she didn't come here certain that she knew the right way to handle things."

Rodney's forehead furrowed into a deep frown. "Is that what you think Woolsey believes, that he's got all the answers? You might be overestimating his confidence John. I'm seeing some distinct hesitancy in his manner and, as you'll probably agree, picking up on other people's emotions isn't really one of my many talents."

A self-effacing Rodney McKay did not come along very often and Sheppard laughed despite himself, immediately releasing more of the tension building in the conversation.

He sighed deeply before answering. "Rodney, I've been here for seven years now and I'm facing the difficult job of dealing with another new expedition leader, one who hasn't previously shown much understanding of the operational situation here. Sometimes you just don't get paid enough for the jobs you're expected to do and this is one of those occasions."

Sheppard finally stood and moved towards the doors, slowing briefly as they swung open in response to his approach. McKay looked a little confused as he also pushed his chair back and turned to leave. "But I thought you didn't want the job of leading Atlantis. Changed your mind?"

"Hell no! I wouldn't take the job if you paid me twice as much. No, I just want to work with someone who knows what they're doing. Not too much to ask is it?"

This time McKay laughed. "Welcome to my world. That's a question I ask myself every day. You know the only times I've had a half reasonable answer were those rare occasions when I worked with an alternate reality or replicator Rodney McKay and let me tell you those situations were way too weird to consider on any permanent basis."

As they move out through the doors, Sheppard chuckled and nodded in agreement but before he could reply his personal communicator burst into life.

"Colonel, we've got an incoming transmission from the Genii. It's the personal code we gave Ladon Radim."

Eyebrows raised, Sheppard glanced over at McKay who just grimaced. "Okay, on my way down."

It was probably just one of the regular contacts Ladon liked to initiate in order to keep their loose alliance active, but their history prevented Sheppard from projecting too much trust towards the Genii leader. "Wonder what's gone wrong now?"

McKay groaned. "No idea, but if it's anything to do with their amateur nuclear bomb program, I'm not giving them anymore help. I refuse to expose myself voluntarily to more radiation." His face morphed quickly from a stubborn frown into a defiant scowl.

Sensing a brewing diatribe about how many times Rodney had been exposed to various dangers since their arrival in Pegasus, Sheppard went on the offensive. "I thought they'd fixed all that stuff and it's safe now?"

"They think they have but-"

"I thought you helped them fix it?"

"I did but," McKay stopped short, torn between continuing his condemnation of the Genii scientists' inability to fully understand his explanations about the dangers of the technologies they were dabbling with and the challenge to his own abilities implicit in Sheppard's question.

By the time he had decided which line to pursue, they arrived in the Control Room, just as Ladon Radim's face appeared on the large communication monitor. Woolsey was there already and while Sheppard was happy to let the new expedition leader to take control of the conversation, the Genii clearly had different ideas.

"Colonel Sheppard, nice as it is to see you again, I was expecting Colonel Carter."

Sheppard shot a quick look at Woolsey out of the corner of his eye before stepping forward to reply. "Ladon, what can we do for you now?"

A wry smile crossed Ladon's face. "I am not sure why you always assume I need your help but, as it happens, you are right this time." The smile faded. "Reports filtering through about some possible discontent being stirred up, mostly in our outer settlements, but when we get there no one is prepared to say much about it. I wondered if your teams from Atlantis might have come across anything similar on worlds you have visited lately."

"By discontent, I assume you mean discontent with you rather than some general feeling of discontent about being a Genii?" Sheppard paused but continued when Ladon merely smiled. "Kolya's men? Or perhaps some of Cowen's former followers still a little bit annoyed that you blew up their hero?"

Ladon shook his head. "The reports are always quite vague so we have not been able to work that out yet."

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Even as Sheppard whispered the phrase, he felt mildly surprised that such a random memory should pop into his head; he had never been much for Shakespeare.

"What?" Ladon clearly knew even less about the Bard.

"Nothing, just something some guy back home wrote once." Sheppard glanced briefly at McKay who was just shaking his head. "Look, we haven't heard anything but, of course, now we know it's bothering you we'll let you know if we do come across anything."

"Thank you, it is refreshing to see you making some commitment to keeping our alliance alive."

Sheppard grinned. "You know we," he stopped as a short sharp cough came from behind his left shoulder.

"General Radim, my name is Richard Woolsey and I have replaced Colonel Carter. As the new commander of this expedition I'm the one you should be talking to about any commitment to the alliance we share."

Ladon looked surprised but still kept his eyes on Sheppard. "A coup against Colonel Carter? I am very sorry to hear that, she was a good leader."

Sheppard shot an irritated glare at Woolsey before turning back to the monitor. "No, not a coup, we change leaders a little less violently than you guys but don't worry about it Ladon, I'll explain next time we meet."

Deciding the conversation was finished, as far as he was concerned anyway, Sheppard turned and strode out of the Control Room. Woolsey's irritation washed in his wake but the pleasure gained from finally ruffling those highly ordered feathers brought a satisfied smirk to his face. Sure he would have to give Woolsey a run down of the dynamics of the Genii alliance before too long but right now Ladon's request had triggered some interesting questions about the identity of this source of possible restlessness.

x-X-00-X-x

Sometimes, usually at night, as he lay on his hard, narrow bunk, eyes closed waiting for sleep to come, Kolya could almost lull himself into believing he was still a free man. Free to walk the worlds of the Pegasus galaxy, coming and going as he pleased, free to taste the soft lips of a woman, and most of all free to determine his own destiny. But then, all to soon, the cold harsh reality of dawn would bear down to drag him back to reality. As the first golden shards of daylight slowly filtered their way through the curtains that hung over the windows of his small room, he would open his eyes and the freedom, or rather the illusion of freedom, would evaporate just like the early morning mist under the rays of the rising sun.

Some mornings, like this particular morning, he knew he had dreamed about the past. Reluctant to open his eyes, vestiges of the dream lingered on, but there was nothing more, just vague snatches of faces he once knew and trusted. He sighed, finally forcing bleary eyes to focus on the intricate pattern of knots in the timber ceiling. It was probably just as well. On those occasions when he actually remembered more about his dreams, the recollections inevitably brought him back to this desolate world.

Despite having taken the first step towards being fully awake, he was determined to stave off the reality of yet another purposeless day for as long as possible. So he rolled over onto one side, pulling the blankets up around his face, the harsh wool texture catching on the bristles of his unshaven cheek. He looked thoughtfully around the soulless, sterile room. Always a man of few needs, even by his standards this accommodation was spartan and he wondered if his life here would be more comfortable if he had collected more personal belongings. Probably not.

But he could not say he was treated badly here, on the contrary, Ladon had taken great care to make sure nothing untoward could happen his most notorious 'political' prisoner. But it certainly did not match up to the level of personalized service he had become used to over so many years as one of the Genii's most senior military officers.

Finally he kicked off the blankets and stretched until his toes touched the end of the bunk. Outside the rough voices and sounds of activity that signaled the beginning of the daily routine became louder and he knew the inevitable could be delayed no longer. He dressed quickly in the simple garb that marked him as a Genii prisoner rather than a Genii soldier – a plain grey shirt and trousers with a similar color over-jacket that served to remove any vestige of individuality the prisoners might aspire to develop.

Looking in the cracked and discolored mirror that hung above his washbasin, Kolya saw a face tanned by daily exposure to the forces of nature. He ran his hands over the stubble on his chin. Once a week he was given a razor and a precautionary watch was placed on him while he shaved although he had never been able to work out why. Did they fear he would run amok with a single blade and try to escape or perhaps attempt suicide. Either would be futile and it annoyed him to be thought capable of such stupidity.

He was just about to about to open the door and step out into the corridor that ran the length of the barracks when he realised that the voices and the sounds from outside had changed quite dramatically. Shouts suddenly echoed through the corridor before a single, sharp crack of rifle fire from just outside his window set the adrenalin coursing through his body.

Moving quickly to the window, he stood to one side and carefully pushed the curtain aside to look out. Strangers dressed as common farmers surrounded a group of guards, except it was clear to Kolya's trained eye that these were no common farmers. They were soldiers with weapons cocked and ready to fire. Three guards sat on the ground, one trying to stem the flow of blood from his arm. One of the strangers barked out orders with an accent that marked him unmistakably as Genii, a tall man but not someone Kolya recognized.

Letting the curtain fall from his hand, he stood back against the wall, his heartbeat quickening in response to another surge of adrenalin. These men could signal either a path to freedom or the quick death than part of him had been seeking since the moment his freedom had been stolen. He closed his eyes in an effort to think more clearly, once he would have marched out fearlessly to meet these intruders, certain that his reputation would serve as a shield to protect him from immediate danger. But this situation was different and he was reluctantly forced to admit that being a prisoner had significantly weakened both his bargaining power and his confidence.

But while his mind worked frantically, assessing the limited options available, the situation changed radically as the door flew open in response to a heavy kick from the same tall, well-built man he had just seen outside. Two other men stood behind him but Kolya's body involuntarily relaxed as he saw that while all three held rifles, they were not pointed in his direction.

"Commander Kolya?" The tall man's voice was precise and business-like.

Nodding slowly, Kolya again searched his memory trying to recognize this man but no names came to mind. "Yes."

The tall man nodded to his two companions who marched into the room and positioned themselves on either side of their target. It was a strategy Kolya had used many times to deal with men he thought might offer resistance and he had no doubt that was the role these men were about to assume.

On one level he felt reassured. If they were here to kill him he would be dead already, not watching them take up position to make sure he conformed with their orders. On another level, disgust welled up that they would think a man with his experience would risk his life in what would so obviously be futile resistance.

"I have no intention of trying to escape," he declared, raising his hands, determined to keep any vestige of fear or uncertainty out of his voice.

The tall man laughed, a rich, deep, mocking sneer. "Oh yes, I know that but I am not prepared to take any chances. We have met before and I have no intention of underestimating your cunning."

Kolya shrugged. A compliment of sorts but from a man who had clearly not been one of his supporters. "If that is true, if we have met before, you will know I have no time for small talk. What do you want from me?"

"Someone has use for your talents." The tall man stepped back into the corridor, nodded to someone who remained out of Kolya's line of sight before speaking again. "We must get off this world quickly, are you coming or do you need more persuasion?"

Kolya allowed his actions to speak for him. Walking out of the room, he did not stop to collect anything, did not give a backward glance, did not give too much thought to the identity of the men to whom he was effectively entrusting his life. Here was a chance for freedom, albeit under another's terms, but freedom none the less. An opportunity to be taken and considered later.