The Tribari Freedom Chronicles Boxset

by Rachel Ford

  She took another sip of her coffee, studying Tig for a moment. “So…um…how was work?”

  “Oh…” He shrugged. “Boring, but it’s what I signed up for. You know: numbers and spreadsheets and endless review.”

  “It does sound boring,” she admitted. Gesturing at the stack of papers in front of her, she added, “But who am I to talk?”

  He laughed, and for a moment they sat in silence, their eyes drifting between each other and their respective mugs of coffee. Nees wasn’t sure she’d ever really examined a cup of coffee quite as much as she’d studied this one. “Hey,” he said in a minute.

  “Yes?”

  “I was wondering…well, it’s a beautiful night.”

  “Is it?” She hadn’t been out since the afternoon, but it had been rather chilly then.

  “Well, compared to what I’m used to, anyway.”

  “Oh, you mean, it’s not frozen like Zeta.”

  “Exactly. No snowstorms, no ice.”

  “Okay. By those standards, I guess it is a beautiful night.”

  He grinned and nodded. “Right. So, um, I was wondering if maybe you, uh, wanted to call it quits on the contracts for now, and maybe…take a walk? With me, I mean?”

  She blinked. She wasn’t surprised, exactly. She’d have had to be blind not to see this coming. Tig seemed to be around the governor’s mansion almost as much as she was, these days, at least as soon as work was out. So it wasn’t his question that was unexpected. It was the quickness with which she wanted to say yes. It had been awhile since she’d found time for this kind of thing. It had been awhile since someone had interested her enough for her to make time. Still, she managed a casual, “Where would we go?”

  He shrugged, affecting a nonchalant air that was only just belied by the twitching of his thumb on the coffee mug handle. “You tell me. You know the place better than I do.”

  “There’s a kind of path by the orchard, just outside of town. It’s pretty, this time of night.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  She smiled. “Alright. The work will wait, then, I guess.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nikia fidgeted with her sleeve. It had been a few minutes since the guards had gone for Diven. She’d begun to wonder if he refused to see her. She was glad of Brek’s presence, in the waiting area down the hall.

  He was a veritable stranger, but the fact was, he’d been right: she didn’t want to face this alone. If Diven wouldn’t see her, if this all came to nothing…she didn’t want to make that trek home alone.

  A security door buzzed, and she started, glancing in its direction. In a moment, another buzzing sounded, nearer this time. And then the far door opened, and a trio of men stepped into sight.

  Two were protectors, the men who had gone to fetch her brother. The third, guided between them, his wrists shackled, was Diven. He looked much the same as he had two months ago when she’d seen him last. He was a bit thinner, she thought, and some of the youthful vitality had gone from his face.

  That was a look she knew well enough from her own reflection, and she felt her heart constrict a little at the sight of it on her brother.

  Diven surveyed her with eyes that had gone a cool bluish gray. There was sorrow in them, but anger too – anger, and perhaps hatred.

  She stood, and the guards led him to her table. “Diven,” she said.

  “Nikia.” His tone was as cold as his eyes.

  “Sit,” one of the guards ordered, moving to secure his shackles to the table.

  “No,” she said. “That’s not necessary.”

  The protector surveyed her skeptically, but then nodded. “As you wish, Minister.”

  “Thank you.” She sat now, too, so that she was eye-to-eye with her brother.

  Diven waited until the guards stood back, then fixed her with his gaze. “Am I meant to be grateful for that, sister?”

  “What?”

  He lifted his still bound hands. “This ‘freedom’? Should I thank the powerful Minister Nikia Idan for her mercy?” The guards stood by, watching Diven’s movements with a nervous air. He sat back in his chair and snorted. “Or am I supposed to beg for lenience now? I understand you’re the one who will sentence me to the gallows?”

  “We don’t use gallows,” she said numbly. “That’s barbaric.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a relief. I’ll be murdered in a civilized fashion.”

  “I’m not planning to murder you, Diven.”

  He turned up the corners of his mouth in a sardonic smile, and his eyes turned a little grayer. She flinched at the sight of the hatred in them. “I suppose you’ll call it justice?”

  “Like you did, with our parents?”

  This, at least, gave him pause, and he blinked. “That…you left me no choice. They left me no choice.”

  “No choice? No choice but to murder your own flesh and blood?” She stared, bewildered. “No choice, but to denounce your own mother – the woman who gave you life – on interplanetary broadcasts? No choice but to stand there and condemn your own father?”

  “You would have preferred that I died with them?” he shot back. “Is that it, Nik? Better a dead brother who dies singing your praises, like der and mer did, than one who lives and says what he needs to to stay alive?”

  The anger in his tone stung, but she tried to force a calmness. “Tell me what happened, Diven. That’s why I’m here. I want to know what happened that day.”

  He snorted. “As if you haven’t already made up your mind.”

  “Dammit, Div, if I’d made up my mind, I wouldn’t be here.” Her own voice was wavering now, and she had to fight to blink back the tears.

  He scrutinized her for a long moment, but when he spoke, his tone was soft. “What do you think happened, Nik? Men with guns showed up. They pulled me out of my bed, and dragged me to the palace. Velk told me we’d been arrested for harboring a traitor: you. He told me I was being charged with sedition, with treason. He told me I was headed for the prison colonies.”

  Nikia felt pain and rage surge through her. She knew only too well the terror of being dragged from her bed in the middle of the night, the fear of waking up to find guns pointed at her. “I’m sorry, Div.”

  Blue eyes searched her face. “Are you, Nik? Are you really?”

  “You know I am, Div: you’re my brother.”

  He blinked a few times, his eyes glistening. When he spoke, his voice wavered. “And what does that count for, these days?”

  “Everything,” she said, and she meant it. Family was why she’d marched at all: her husband, Grel, and their child, who didn’t even exist yet. She’d marched for justice for the one, and a future for the other. She’d known the risks to herself. What she hadn’t counted were the risks to the rest of her family, to the ones she loved. “I’m sorry. Dammit, Div, I’m so sorry.”

  They sat there for a few minutes, shedding silent tears. When she was collected enough to speak again, she said, “What happened after that?”

  “He gave us a choice. All of us, mother and father too: renounce you, and live. Stand with you, and die.” He shook his head. “They chose one way…and I…I chose another.”

  Brek Trigan waited patiently as the minutes ticked by. He took Nikia’s extended absence to be a good sign, but as the hour turned, and she still didn’t appear, he began to reconsider. He was about to ask the grim-faced protector behind the bulletproof glass entry desk about it when the far door opened.

  Nikia Idan emerged, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy. She’d been weeping, and a lot by the look of it. Brek felt his heart sink. He’d given her the wrong advice, then. “Nikia,” he said, pushing to his feet.

  She reached him just as he stood, but rather than a grim expression, she smiled and took his hand in her own. Squeezing it, she said, “Minister Trigan, you were right; and I am in your debt. Thank you.”

  Brek blinked. “Then…it went well?”

  The evidence of her recent tears seemed at odds with this conclus
ion, but her eyes sparkled as she nodded. “It did. You were right, Brek. And I’m so thankful I listened.”

  “Oh.”

  She glanced between him and the guards, then said, “Can we go? The Kels will worry if I’m not back soon.”

  “Of course.” He reached for his crutches, and was keenly aware, not for the first time, of just how slow and clumsy he was on them.

  Nikia didn’t seem to mind. She kept pace with him in silence until they were out of the prison, then she turned to him. “Those things he said? They were said under duress, Brek.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I couldn’t have seen it. I should have known. He’s my brother.”

  For a moment, she lost herself to her own reflections. Then, she continued, “Velk had him arrested, him and mother and father. He threatened to kill them all, to send them to Zeta colony, if they refused to denounce me as a traitor.”

  “And your parents refused, but Diven did not?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I don’t blame him, Brek. I-I can’t. He’s young, younger than me. He had his whole life ahead of him. I don’t blame him for being afraid.”

  Brek considered. “I’m certain your parents were afraid as well, Nikia. And they were not as young, I grant, but they had many years of life left too.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know. But, Brek, I would not have blamed them either had they denounced me.” She shook her head. “I love them for refusing to do it, but…Gods, you have no idea how much I wish they had. Those were just words. Words can be unsaid. But blood can’t be unspilled.”

  He nodded slowly. “Words can never fully be taken back.”

  “Perhaps not. But…no words were worth their life.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But they made a choice, Nikia, to stand for what they believed in: you, and this cause. There is nothing more noble than that.”

  “I know. Believe me, Brek, I know. I love them for it; I honor them for it. They are more courageous than most. They are more courageous than I am, for they had nothing to gain and everything to lose, and still they stood true.

  “I just mean, I cannot hate Diven for saving his own life. I cannot condemn him for it.”

  Here, he nodded with more certainty. “I do not blame you, Minister.”

  They’d reached the car now, and she held the door open. A wave of self-consciousness washed over him, but he bit back on the argument that she should go first. She was something of a force of nature when it came to being of use, and she would brook no argument. He’d found that out already.

  It was annoying, of course. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he might as well be in a full body cast, for all the fuss she made.

  Still, he slid onto his seat, and she followed a moment later. As she settled onto her own side, he saw a light in her eye, a joy in her expression, that he hadn’t seen since they’d met. The incongruity of it beside her tearstained cheeks struck him. “Minister Trigan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you – for the advice, and for coming with me tonight. You’ve given me back my brother, and I will never forget that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Captain Elgin stood at military ease, his hands clasped behind his back. He was far from easy though. A holographic projection of the House of Commons filled his ready room, just as, he knew, his form projected into the midst of parliament, beside the presider’s desk.

  “In your report, Captain,” one of the ministers, a Gretchen Mira, asked, “you mention that Governor Nees set a timeframe for possibly reconsidering her stance? Thirty-six months, you wrote.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “And you accepted this?”

  “Ultimately, yes. But I did try to convince her to rejoin now, of course.”

  “I see.”

  “And she could not be budged?” This was another minister, Davis Telari. “Not even in light of your history?”

  “No sir.”

  “That is…” Telari sighed. “Unfortunate. As I understand it, Trapper’s Colony owes a good deal to you, and your decision to lift Velk’s illegal blockade.”

  Elgin wasn’t sure he liked the phrasing of that. The situation certainly was more complicated than the minister allowed. And Nees didn’t owe him anything because he’d done the right thing, eventually. If he hadn’t persuaded her, well, that was his failure. But it wasn’t any lack of gratitude or insufficient appreciation of the circumstances on the governor’s part. And he had the sense that Telari meant to cast it as such.

  “It is unfortunate, sir. But I believe Supreme Leader Velk’s plans for planet-wide genocide trump the actions of one captain.”

  “Velk is dead,” Minister Mari said.

  “Yes ma’am. But the governor believes prudence is in order, to ensure that his philosophies were buried with him, before she returns her planet to imperial control.”

  “Dammit, we are stronger together,” MP Dul declared with an emphatic thump on the table in front of him. “Surely she must realize that this kind of individualism is dangerous – especially with Admiral Lenksha still out there?”

  “If her goal really is to protect Trapper’s Colony,” Mira agreed, “she has to know that isolating the planet at a time like this is dangerous.”

  “And,” Telari put in, his expression thoughtful and his tones placid, “while I personally appreciate the offer to reconsider in the future, I worry what conclusions people might draw from that. It might seem – forgive me – but the act of a fair-weather friend, to rebuff the empire during her most trying period, and apply for admittance when all, presumably, will be well.”

  Elgin felt an eyebrow creep up his forehead, and he wondered if he dared interject.

  Before he could speak, though, Nikia Idan piped up with, “I applaud your optimism, Minister Telari. And I hope that it is well-founded. But I suspect that the empire will have no shortage of challenges in the future – be it six months, or thirty-six.”

  “Really, Minister? I put more stock in our colleagues than that. I put more faith in our people, to elect capable MP’s.”

  “Respectfully, Minister Telari,” a vaguely familiar man in a cast said, “it’s hubris to assume that we can solve in a few months problems that have plagued our people for millenniums. It is no slight on anyone here to acknowledge that complex problems require careful solutions.”

  “The question of Minister Trigan’s home world supports his case rather well,” Giya Enden put in. Elgin blinked, recognizing the name. This was Brek Trigan, the starved leader of Theta, who had contacted the empire not so long ago to plead for supplies after the Consortium pulled out – now, apparently, another member of parliament. “How many days did we spend discussing such a – comparatively – simple case? We owe the people nothing less than our best and most careful decision making. And that, as we all know, takes time. I don’t believe Trapper’s is in any danger of waiting out the storm by postponing a few months.”

  “And,” Elgin offered, “the colony is not taking a neutral stance. Governor Nees understands that our interests mutually align. She does not mean to let the empire suffer. Nor does she intend to isolate the planet, Minister Mira. I have already forwarded her proposals to establish understandings on trade and defense. She envisions a period of partnership before a possible re-entry.”

  “Hmm. That’s another point I’m not clear on,” Minister Dul mused. “What exactly does she expect the empire to do in these thirty-six months? If we’re being tested, shouldn’t we at least know the criteria she’ll be evaluating on?”

  Mira’s holographic eyes peered out at him from behind steepled fingers. “I don’t suppose you asked her that, Elgin?”

  Something in the woman’s tone sat wrong with him, and he crafted his answer accordingly. “I believe her criteria is rather broad, ma’am: competent leadership, a reasonably governed empire. And no coups or mass murder attempts.”

  Telari arched an eyebrow at him. “Captain, this is hardly the venue for levity.”


  “No sir. I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied. “But Governor Nees is a reasonable leader. She’s not asking for perfection from the empire. She only needs to see that we’re capable of managing our own affairs – without trying to kill them – before she lets us manage theirs.”

  “Then in your estimate, Captain,” Presider Grik wondered, “you feel there is a high probability that Governor Nees will look favorably on a return to the empire?”

  This was perhaps more of a loaded question than the presider realized, considering the criteria that Nees’ return hinged on. But he nodded anyway. “I do, sir.”

  “With all due respect,” Minister Mira snorted, “Captain Elgin, I recall that you also believed you would be able to persuade Governor Nees to return to the empire. While this body is duly appreciative of your skill as a commander, I’m not convinced-”

  That was a sentence Mira didn’t finish, though. Or, if she did, Elgin didn’t hear her words. The deck of the Supernova heaved beneath him, and the sound of an explosion hit his ears a split second before he lost his footing.

  The next thing he knew, he was tumbling for a wall that was, somehow, beneath him. He braced for impact a second before he hit. At the same time, pain shot through his back. It was a moment before he registered the sensations.

  Something had fallen on top of him; something heavy. He could feel the burn of blood trickling down his forehead, and could see smears of blue on the wall.

  Then, just as suddenly, he was pitched backward. Whatever had been pinning him down moved first, and a moment later, he landed against it. Another flash of pain ripped through his shoulder blades, but this time, at least, he was able to regain his feet. Tapping his communicator, he barked out, “Bridge, what in the hell is going on?”

  “Sir,” Ensign Kerel’s voice came over the line, and the tension in her words was unmistakable. “We hit something. Some kind of mines. Our sensors didn’t pick them up.”

  “Copy. I’m on my way to the bridge.” The briefing with parliament would have to wait. He pushed against the desk – that’s what had fallen on him: his own desk – and gritted his teeth against the pain in his shoulders. He was going to have some pretty intense bruising. There was no doubt of that. But at least he hadn’t broken or dislocated anything.