If he'd had anything in his stomach, the first thing Trevor would have done when he regained consciousness was throw up.

     As it was, every cell in his body screamed like it'd been poisoned. He felt so lousy he wished for a second that he could return to being knocked out. At least then he wouldn't feel like he'd been beaten with a tire iron.

     He went to move his arms. Couldn't. Shackled. 

​     He went to move his legs. Couldn't. They were shackled, too.                                  He opened his eyes to see how much of a prisoner he really was. 

     Oh yeah, he was a prisoner, all right. A chain connected his arm shackles to his leg shackles. 

     The van he was riding in was packed with armed guards. He counted at least eight from where he was lying on a bench. 

     Four had their weapons drawn and aimed at his heart. 

     Trevor looked down at himself. He now wore a bright orange jump suit and soft slippers with solid plastic soles. That meant they'd gotten his anti-grav sneakers and laser-knife.

     Fuck! 

     One of the guards barked into his phone, "Yeah, we're taking him right to the courthouse. A judge is waiting. The arraignment shouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes, then he'll be all ours. I know, I know, I copy that, but he's not going anywhere."

     Damn it, he hurt! What had they brought him down with, an elephant tranquilizer?

     Time for the one move he had left to him. 

     As per training, Trevor focused on an image of Niki in a specific area of his mind, an Azurian communication device.

​     Help! Help! Trevor called out with his mind to the image. Come get me, Niki! Help! Help! 

                                                     CONTINUE