by Rhonda Mason
Kayla ground her teeth. Vayne stayed silent, but she could practically hear the two of them thinking, They can’t do anything better than a psionic can. And on some level, they were right.
She said, “I’m not asking Malkor or the octet to come here and be surrounded by people who view them as the enemy.”
“They are the enemy,” Vayne said quietly. The words hit like a betrayal.
“The octet rescued you. Both of you.”
Natali inclined her head to acknowledge that fact. “And I thank them for that. But we wouldn’t need rescuing if their people hadn’t taken our planet over and taken us prisoner in the first place.”
“Dolan—”
“Dolan didn’t act alone. And by Malkor’s own admission he was part of the team that came to Ordoch.”
“The IDC knew nothing of the army’s plan for the coup. Malkor was on Ordoch as part of a diplomatic mission only.”
Vayne intervened. “We can have that argument later. For now, I think Wetham’s plan makes sense.”
“We don’t even know what the plan is, not really.” And how much did she trust Wetham, or the imperial commander supposedly in his pocket?
“Aren’t they trained for this sort of thing?” Natali asked.
Kayla nodded. Skills or not, though, she wasn’t about to sign Malkor up for a mission—any mission—on Ordoch. “I don’t want them here.”
Both of her siblings blinked, surprised.
“Then why…?” Vayne asked.
“On Ordoch, I mean. Not…” Kayla blew out a frustrated breath. “Not without me.”
Natali got it first. “To vouch for them, you mean.”
Which was ridiculous. They were good, loyal people, who had left everything they’d known behind to come and fight for Ordoch’s freedom. If they said they were on the rebels’ side, then that should be the end of it.
Only it wasn’t.
Their word, the word of IDC agents, wouldn’t have been worth shit to Kayla half a year ago, before she’d gotten to know them. She would have attacked them on sight if it wasn’t imperative that she keep her cover as a pit whore.
And who’s to say the rebels wouldn’t do exactly that?
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kayla finished lamely. She could handle the stress of the octet being on a mission. What she couldn’t handle was one of her own people killing them just for being born in the empire. To any rebel who didn’t know them, Malkor and the octet would be just be six more occupation soldiers who needed killing.
“Well,” Natali said. “This really is the best use for them.” Her word choice said it all. To her, they were simply tools.
Vayne laid a comforting hand on Kayla’s shoulder. “They’re adults, Kayla. Let them decide for themselves.”
Which meant Malkor and the octet were coming to Ordoch.
10
with Natali committed to requesting Malkor’s aid, and Wetham committed to delivering fifteen rebels to the Yari, the meeting turned toward less contentious topics.
Not that things are pleasant, Kayla thought. It was clear that Natali intended to take control of the rebellion, and just as clear that Wetham would allow nothing of the sort. Natali politely demanded to be brought up to speed on all aspects of operations: troop numbers, weapons status, how they were provisioned, where their spies were embedded, et cetera.
Wetham tried to take a “you don’t need to worry about the details” approach, and was quickly overridden. Ro’haars were intense even when relaxing. Natali? She took it to the next level, and Wetham clearly wasn’t used to that.
He caught on quickly, though, and Kayla had to admire the way he held his own as Natali peppered him with questions.
For her part, Kayla found the details of managing an entire rebellion nearly overwhelming. She was a bodyguard through and through, never a leader of men. Point her at a problem, pull the trigger, and she would fire. She was a weapon, not a politician, and she liked it that way. Natali was welcome to it all.
The meeting finally wrapped and Wetham led them on a tour of the base. The building was massive and mostly underground. Whatever they had once manufactured here must have had an explosive element because the base was built to withstand immense blasts.
The ground level and above had been left in their derelict state in order to perpetuate the imperial assumption that the building was abandoned. Below, the base hummed with activity. Rebels from every part of the planet filled the gray plascrete corridors near to bursting. Supplies were stockpiled in every available space until they reached the ceiling. Whole manufacturing bays were filled with row upon row of bedrolls, the sea of fabric parted only by the slimmest walkable paths.
Wetham told them about another base, farther away from the direct conflict, where families lived together in more of a tent city setup, while here on the front lines it was a soldier’s lifestyle for the rebels. No one wanted their families living in a city that was the center of the imperial occupation, especially considering it was going to become a battleground when the rebellion finally made its ultimate move to retake the planet.
They visited the makeshift infirmary and met another of Wetham’s lieutenants, a brutally injured man by the name of Aarush. In another time, his injuries would be an ordeal, but quickly overcome. His amputated foot would have been grown and reattached within days, the same for his badly burned skin. Nerve regeneration would follow, and from there it was only a matter of recovering from the procedures and undergoing physical therapy.
As Kayla gazed at the limited medical technologies available in the crowded premises, she knew that Aarush’s story would be drastically different. Yet another crime the empire should be punished for. The situation was all the more frustrating because Wetham had told them on their way to the infirmary that he considered Aarush an irreplaceable asset to the rebellion.
In a moment of unexpected tenderness, Natali sat by Aarush’s bedside. She expressed sorrow for the wounds he suffered and thanked him for his service to their people.
Aarush’s face flushed and he looked away, his body stiffening. Even with half his face swathed in bandages, Kayla could tell Natali’s awareness of his condition bothered him. Natali must have sensed it, too. Her voice regained its brusque tone. She began to grill him on his near-fatal mission; on what went wrong, where improvements could be made. She asked his opinion on what the rebellion needed to do in order to retake their planet, what their weaknesses were in terms of combat training and missions ops—his area of expertise.
By the time they were ready to leave the infirmary, Aarush’s one remaining eye shone with purpose, his voice was strong, and he seemed much more a soldier than a victim. Something must have passed between them telepathically because Natali paused, then gave him a firm nod before striding out the door.
They traveled more corridors, stopping to inspect weapons depots and even vehicle storage. At last they ended their tour in what Kayla was convinced was the only open space in the entire building. All the derelict manufacturing equipment had been pushed to the edges of the large room, leaving patches of floor space, which were dedicated to martial training. Her people had no standing army and only minimal police forces on the main continent. Most of the rebels would know nothing of fighting, neither with weapons nor hand to hand, making their forces completely inadequate for a rebellion.
Whoever had a hand in setting up the training exercises, Kayla liked immensely. This, here, was something she could finally do, somewhere her skills would be invaluable. Leave the plotting and planning to Natali and Wetham. She and the octet could make a great contribution here. And the octet would be safe, once they were known around the base.
For now, the room was packed to capacity with rebels. A crowd filled the open floor space, people sitting on the training equipment, and even climbing on the manufacturing skeletons to get a view of the Reinumons as they entered.
Vayne hesitated on the threshold when he saw the crowd.
::What the frutt is this?:: he sa
id in her mind, his voice more growl than actual words.
Kayla dropped back to stand beside him. “I think Natali intends to make a speech.”
::And put us on display.:: His emotions rolled into her: anger, embarrassment, even fear, all carried on an insistent need to flee.
Shielded by Uncle Ghirhad and Wetham as they made their entrance, she gripped Vayne’s forearm and met his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you here.” She injected as much reassurance as she could into her voice. She couldn’t lower her mental defenses to let him inside her head—not surrounded as they were by so many psionics—so she silently tried to convey both her conviction that they were safe here, and the promise that she would protect him if any threat should arise.
Even without a shared connection, he seemed to sense her message. He didn’t relax, but the thrumming need to flee eased somewhat, to where they could enter the massive room together. She didn’t like being on display any more than he did, didn’t like the feel of so many expectant, hopeful gazes on her. But, she supported her sister, and so she went to stand beside the workbench that Natali had climbed up on to use as a makeshift dais.
Kayla had to admit that Natali looked every millimeter the returning hero, ready to lead her people. She stood tall and proud, shoulders back, chin lifted slightly, her gaze scanning the crowd as she patiently waited for quiet. She was honed sharp as a knife’s edge. In her gold bodysuit, utility belt, and weapons, Natali looked ready to run her own martial drills at that moment.
The room held its breath as people waited to see what she would say.
“My name is Natali Reinumon. I have finally returned to our homeworld to reclaim my rightful place as Ordoch’s en’shaar.”
Well, at least she didn’t mince words.
::She’s calling herself the en’shaar?:: Vayne said in Kayla’s mind. ::I wonder how well that’ll play.::
Kayla wondered the same. En’shaar was the term for the ruling ro’haar–il’haar bonded pair. It had been generations since anyone had ruled alone, and they certainly hadn’t claimed that title when they did.
Murmurs among the crowd seemed to echo her misgivings, but Natali merely waited for the disturbance to settle down.
“I have been told that it was assumed every last Reinumon had been killed in the imperial coup, but as you can see, that is not the case. I present to you my sister and brother, Kayla and Vayne, and my uncle, Ghirhad Reinumon. Our youngest brother, Corinth, also lives.
“You have all suffered great losses in the last five years. You have fought and sacrificed for the resistance in the hopes that we will reclaim our homeworld from these imperial dogs, and we thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.” Natali paused, and bowed deeply toward the people. Kayla, touched by the gesture, followed suit, as did Vayne and their uncle.
When Natali finally rose, the crowd was doubly intent on her words.
“We have not cowered in safety and left you to fight alone. I came here today to share with you, in my own words, where we have been these last five years.
“In the confusion of the coup, Vayne, Ghirhad and I, along with several other members of our family and staff, were taken prisoner by the imperials. This was done at the behest of Dolan, a Wyrd traitor who had defected to the empire after his exile from Ilmena. He had been working with them for more than a decade, trading the secrets of superior Wyrd technology in exchange for the power and resources to conduct certain experiments.”
Natali drew a deep breath, as if steadying herself to continue.
“I cannot begin to describe the thousands of ways he tortured us, experimented on us, violated us.”
Vayne went rigid. His face screwed into a sort of rictus that belied a deep pain. Kayla’s heart ached for him, for Natali, for all of them, and that ache expressed itself as a throbbing, burning need to extract vengeance. Vayne was correct—Dolan’s death had been entirely too quick.
“Among the many things we endured was a process by which Dolan ripped our psi powers from our minds and grafted them onto his own. He repeated this process over and over. Each time our powers grew back, he harvested us again, and it was this brutal procedure, when combined with all the rest, that slowly killed us.
“The first of us to die was our father. He fought the hardest initially, and Dolan killed him to make a statement. Even though I knew it was futile, I held on to the hope that one day I might somehow make my escape. That hope diminished each day as one by one we fell. My mother. My two aunts. And at last, my beloved twin, Erebus.” Natali’s voice choked as she said his name and she had to stop. Tears shimmered in her eyes. She bowed her head and turned her face slightly away from the crowd.
Kayla couldn’t stand it any longer. She broke from the line and approached Natali. “You don’t have to do this,” she said in a soft voice. Please don’t do this, she wanted to say. You’re killing my ro’haar and I can’t bear it.
“I owe it to them,” Natali said just as softly. Still, those in the front heard her words, and passed it to their neighbors, who passed it to theirs, until everyone in the room knew. Of all that Natali had said, these few words seemed to affect the crowd the most.
When she had her emotions under control, she continued. “I lost track of time after Erebus’s death—I can’t tell you what happened in those dark days. Somehow I survived, but it seems impossible to me even now. Finally, miraculously, we were rescued. My siblings,” she gestured to Kayla and Vayne, “killed Dolan, and all at once I was free.” She let that word linger in the air, as if she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the idea.
“As I escaped exile, I thought to myself, ‘It’s over, it’s really over.’ But then I learned the truth: the imperial coup attempt had not been thwarted, and my people, our people, live under the rule of those bastards. And so I have come home—we have come home—to fight.”
Cheering broke out, clapping, even boot stomping. Shouts of “We’re with you!” and “Ordoch!” echoed off the walls.
“We’ve come to fight not only for our freedom, but for our very lives. Dolan’s tortuous experiments had a purpose. He was not just a sadist. He betrayed our people on the most basic level. After learning how to steal our psi powers in a way that would allow them to regenerate, he developed a technique for grafting the powers onto the inferior mind of an imperial. He freely gave this technology to the empire.
“That means they’re not satisfied with just our planet, they want our minds. The emperor and his council have launched a second invasion wave. They’re coming to enslave us, to lock us up in farms and harvest our powers over and over.”
Natali stopped and looked hard at the crowd, connecting with them on this vital point. “You might make it through the first procedure. You might last months, even years. But in the end, none of us will survive. And what then? Will they move on to Ilmena? We need to stop them here. Now. Not just for us, but for all Wyrds.
“I promise you this: I will fight until my very last breath. I will give everything I have, everything I am, to free Ordoch, and I will not rest until the only imperials left on our world are dead or dying.”
The cheers that erupted rose up as if from one throat. One heart crying a promise of battle, a need for justice. It roared off the walls, shook the ceiling. Fists pumped the air. Feet stomped. Kayla’s heart soared with the sound, her own blood singing for violence. She was up on her toes, ready to fight, ready to defend her people, ready to be fully Wyrd once again and shed the dust of the last five years.
And then she remembered Malkor.
* * *
Vayne felt uncomfortable on the walk back through the base. The cheering rang through his head and he couldn’t get it out. Hundreds of people cheering, shouting their names, applauding; as if they’d done anything yet—all they’d really done was survive five years of torture and then arrive on their doorstep.
Kayla, walking at his side, looked disturbed, though whether she shared his same feelings or was just worried about the fate of her lov
er, he couldn’t say.
By contrast, Natali was in her element. She led the way through the corridors, every nanometer the prodigal daughter returned triumphant. He would have hated her for it if she didn’t look so frutting… alive. The air around her practically shimmered with her force of personality. Her eyes shone like sunlight reflecting off of ice and she actually smiled. Natali. Smiling. He hadn’t seen her smile in years, and the sight filled him with happiness and deep sadness simultaneously.
Walking beside Natali, Wetham looked somewhat less pleased than the rest of the rebel forces.
Not quite the homecoming of the heirs you were expecting, eh?
Wetham had clearly never met Natali, if he thought she was going to abdicate her throne for any reason less than death. But their inevitable power struggle could wait for another day.
The trip back through the Tear was blissfully uneventful. And though the day had been long and part of Vayne was exhausted, resting was out of the question. Returning to Ordoch had stirred up emotions he thought never to feel again. He certainly didn’t want to face them now.
Kayla made eye contact as they exited the shuttle Ariel had used to pick them up from the Tear. “More weapons reclamation?”
He grinned. “You read my mind.” Physical exhaustion was the only cure for emotional turmoil. Well, when one was too broken to actually deal with one’s emotions, anyway. Natali had taught him that, before he had betrayed her. He pushed that thought from his mind before Dolan’s ghost could exploit it.
“We’re already in our EMUs,” he said, “it’d be a shame to waste the opportunity.”
They partnered up with ship’s physicist Tanet and the IDC agent who called herself Rigger. Neither of whom would be Vayne’s choice of allies in a fight, but they were competent enough to offload the weapons cases he and Kayla brought up from the unpowered decks below. The entire process was somewhat hampered by the fact that Kayla and Vayne had to ride the lift up with each load of weapons in order to thwart any attempt made by the stepa at es to steal them.
