Heart of a Traitor

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  Behind his mask, Rochestri could feel his world breaking down. Every move he had made, every decision he had made. Five lifetimes of power and authority accumulated were in danger.

  “Death is far too lenient for this creature,” he decided. “I will unleash upon her a fate far worse than death.” He realized now that she was the greatest threat he had ever faced and yet he still did not know what she wanted. His rage was becoming blinding and he knew that was dangerous. He could not allow his rage to overcome his intellect. Yet, even as he thought on that, his anger beat further at his consciousness, mingled with another emotion, stranger than the first...respect.

  “Ridiculous,” Rochestri reaffirmed.

  “Is it?” Inami asked. “When the Gunoi destroyed the ether-comm towers on Correll, six destroyers with skeleton crews and a small command staff was sent to break through the Gunoi blockade and bring aid to Correll. Only one ship survived. It stumbled upon your vessel at the Coralis Jump Gate and Yasuo, Chaplain of the Senshi’s Third Division, met with you on your ship and told you of the Gunoi siege and of their need for aid. You gave her your word that you would gather the Confederacy’s armies and come to their rescue. Yasuo returned to Correll and they waited for you to arrive for ten long years.”

  Rochestri felt his mask cracking. Her eyes felt like daggers plunging into his mind and his heart. She seemed to him to be surrounded by flames and fire.

  “A fanciful story,” he weakly stated.

  “It’s not fancy, Rochi-sama. You see, I am Chaplain Yasuo,” Inami revealed. Rochestri’s mask shattered and his mouth fell open in fear. He felt himself begin to sweat. He looked timidly into Inami’s violet eyes and although he shook his head in denial, deep inside her he had seen it. The face was not the same, the voice was different, the manner and language were changed, but inside he had seen it.

  “Impossible,” he weakly stated, his face trembling with disbelief.

  “You threw away the lives of the people of Correll. MY PEOPLE! You threw away the reputation of a proud and loyal order of Senshi. You threw away your own honor, all to gain a seat on the Second Council,” Inami judged.

  Rochestri’s web had crumbled. So perfectly crafted, so finely woven. So flawless, yet this creature had torn it down.

  “Yet,” he thought. “It can still be patched.” The damage could be contained. First, he would have to determine how far the information had spread. Eliminate those who had been informed and the damage would be contained. His pride beat strong still and he began to weave yet again.

  “Was I wrong about your order, then, traitor?” Rochestri asked enthusiastically. “Do you not now belong to a demon lord? It seems to me that my judgments were right in the end.”

  Inami backed away, appearing tired and sad.

  “We have become the imps you made us out to be,” she admitted. “In our zeal to end our curse, we have often sided with His enemy. It is likely that doing so has made us unworthy to ever return to the Luminarch’s side.”

  Inami drifted off for a moment, her gaze becoming distant. She spoke quietly.

  “Every night our people on Correll would pray to the Man of Light for aid to arrive and every morning the Gunoi would slaughter them. After seeing the prayers of our people answered only with blood for ten long years, our Taisho lost faith and he, along with most of his senior staff, used the Eagalo Stone to forge a pact with the demon Drak’Nal. He traded our souls for the power to defeat the Gunoi. Those of us who defied the pact now wander the galaxy in these cursed forms, searching for a way to end Asfanţit before we ourselves fall and become rău-matrice.”

  Rochestri was confused by this admission.

  “Why would she say such things to me? She couldn’t be seeking absolution from me. She’d know I’d never give it. It would be equally silly to try and gain my sympathy. What advantage could be gained from saying these things to me?” Her admission was, to his mind, incomprehensible. She seemed much weaker to him now and he wondered if he had overestimated her earlier.

  Inami tapped the data slate one last time, bringing up the image of the statue of Koichi Hyase in the Correll royal palace.

  “This is an image we pulled from your memory. It’s from when you planted the Eagalo Stone on Correll to lure Turkin there.” Rochestri saw the strength ebb out of her and the data slate fell from her hand, clattering on the floor of the cell bay. Slowly she began making her way toward the bay door.

  “You know, for three hundred years I have asked myself what we had done wrong to deserve being cast into this living hell. For three centuries I have prayed to know what our crime could have been.”

  The weight of it fell upon her and she stumbled.

  “We had done nothing wrong and that makes it all the more bitter.”

  Inami placed her face into her palm, barely able to stand.

  “Onikano, unlock this door,” Inami asked quietly. The door unlocked itself with a series of clacks.

  “What is to become of me?” Rochestri demanded. Inami paused at the door and answered him without looking back.

  “You? You will be the hero of the Confederacy a second time. Tomorrow you will lead a crusade that will crush the demon world of Bael’Eth and deliver a devastating blow to the forces within the Uragan,” she explained. “Your name will most likely be etched into the onyx stone of sacrifice in the Temple of Tears on Holy Terra. You will have everything you ever wanted.”

  Rochestri let slip some of his rage for a moment and hit his fist against the barrier, creating a high-pitched ping.

  “Who do you think you are to do this to me?” Rochestri protested.

  “Much has to be sacrificed,” Inami repeated Rochestri’s own words. “A loyal servant of the Luminarch would gladly give his life to defeat the Emancipator’s enemies.”

  Inami glanced back and Rochestri was confused to see her eyes filled with pain and regret.

  “It hurts to be used, doesn’t it, Rochi-sama?”

  She wiped the welling tears from her eyes and re-assumed her demeanor from before. Her back straightened and her shoulders came up. She tilted her hips to one side and rested a hand on one. She seemed to become young again and her violet eyes appeared more innocent and vapid. Rochestri could not tell if she was applying a mask, or taking one off and he decided that he didn’t care.

  “I feel like some cheesecake,” she stated. “Do you feel like some cheesecake? I’ll have someone bring you some.”

  Inami left the bay, leaving the Marshal alone with his thoughts.

  Chapter Forty Four

  Devices and Threats

  It is unfortunate that so many of our young people are encouraged to form their own opinions. It is even more unfortunate that the young people feel those opinions are worth listening to. I long for the day when our young listen rather than speak.

  -Cardinal Jean Marc Renevault of Canne 3612-3689rl

  The following morning, the commanders of each world were gathered together for the final mission overview before the fleet moved out. The tension in the room was palpable as Inami, dressed and masked as Rochestri, went over their targets and the role each of them would play in the assault.

  These people were not newcomers to battle or to war. These were lifelong warriors, leaders among their respective peoples. Leathery and hardened individuals, who did not flinch at death or carnage and yet even they were wide-eyed with horror at what they were being presented with. Several of the generals had tried to readjust their translators, to make sure that they were hearing correctly.

  The only excited person in the room was Rochestri, who bounded with enthusiasm from chart to chart, explaining the plans and contingency plans, most of which had been prepared by Mai, but that didn’t stop Inami from taking all the credit.

  “Now, take a step back for a moment and look at the big picture,” Rochestri said as he swung his laser pointer around exuberantly, accidentally shining in a few eyes. “Bael’Eth produces a phenomenal amount of munitions and equipment. By so
me estimates a full forty percent of the entire Uragan’s military production capacity...”

  General Isen Baureguard from Parisia raised his hand.

  “The question and answer segment will take place at the end of the presentation,” the Marshal said, irritated.

  “Excuse me then, I assumed when we were gathered for this crusade it would be to aid the Tyrant sector, to prevent it from falling?”

  “Indeed, that is exactly what we are doing,” Rochestri said with a wide smile. “Now if you will open your objective breakdown...”

  “Then you will excuse me again, why are we not going to head out to the Tyrant sector and kill the traitor’s armies?”

  Rochestri huffed. “Look, it’s really quite simple. If we cut off their ammunition and supplies, the traitors in the Tyrant sector will fall. We may not fire the shot that kills them, but we will still be making it happen. Your problem is that you are thinking like a man.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  “Ahem...moving on.”

  A new holo-image was displayed, a grainy image of an enormous cannon being constructed with glowing runes pulsating along its surface.

  “There is another reason we are going to Bael’Eth. There is a weapon being constructed there.”

  Admiral Higgins of Novasc raised his hand.

  “I’m afraid I don’t see the problem, we have weapons that appear that large in aerial photographs.”

  “This photograph was taken from orbit,” Rochestri explained.

  Those present gasped quietly.

  “We estimate the barrel to be one hundred and fifty miles in length...”

  “Impossible.”

  “You forget this is a demon world, impossible doesn’t apply. We may not know how it is built, or how it works exactly, but we know what it was built for. It was built for a single purpose. To destroy Holy Terra.”

  The room was completely silent.

  “I’m glad I now have your complete attention,” Rochestri mused.

  The holo-map in the center of the room mapped out the planet’s location. Three of the four continents were covered with foundry complexes hundreds of thousands of stories high, filled with bestial creatures that lived their short and brutal existence chained to the assembly lines they toiled on. Great rivers of molten metal flowed through space from dozens of other systems to this world. It was this aberrant flow of materials that made the great forges possible.

  “The southern continent is made up of an enormous circular mountain range. The peaks are inexplicably high, creating a natural barrier that we will have to land our forces inside of.”

  The holo-map zoomed in. The enormous fortress of Yar’Katah was laid out in a giant square, the upper spires at each corner reaching high into the atmosphere of the planet, during the times when there was atmosphere, that is. The square fortress and circular mountain range formed the symbol of Bra’Neish, the patron god of Yar’Katah, which could be seen from space.

  “Each of the four spires is equipped with the largest array of Naval-Grade Macro-cannons and space defense batteries ever constructed.”

  “Certainly not compared to our Holy Terra...” Generalissimo Soldat of Jubana began to say, before he was silenced by the seriousness of the Marshal’s expression.

  “Before any of our larger transports can land inside the mountain range, those defenses will have to be silenced. Now, I’ve been running some personal calculations of my own and even when you take previous analytics into account, I have a success rate of point four.”

  “But that would mean you only got 40% of them to work properly...”

  “Yes, but if you take a closer look, I have over a 70% success rate when I’m feeling lucky. Now, that’s as good as perfect.”

  Mai, dressed as Sister Katherine Mary, dropped her face in her hands in shame. Captain Lazarus said nothing, but eyed the priestess and the marshal suspiciously.

  “There is nothing subtle about this operation,” Rochestri continued. “To silence the fortress batteries, we will rely on the skills and equipment of the Luminarch’s finest, the Angelus Noctem of Ormen, who will be backed up by the high-altitude paratroopers of Kasway.

  “And what if the boys from Ormen have to do it by themselves?” asked General Jhoss Browning of Kasway.

  “I’m not sure what you are saying,” Rochestri said.

  “What I’m saying is,” Jhoss said, pausing to draw on his long cigar, “what if me and my boys don’t take to getting sent in to die just because it suits you.”

  Lazarus was visibly outraged at the insubordination, but held his tongue. Rochestri took a moment to think on this point, a hand stroking his salt and pepper beard thoughtfully.

  “I suppose it doesn’t really matter to me,” Rochestri said. Jhoss snickered and looked at his staff, making as if to gather up their things and leave.

  “Do you have a family, Mister Browning?” Rochestri asked innocently. Jhoss paused and eyed him suspiciously.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Rochestri nodded and thought on this. “And what about your men, do they have wives and children?”

  “Why you want to know?”

  “Well, different planets have different marital traditions. The Angelus Noctem of Ormen keeps concubines,” Rochestri explained, motioning to Lazarus. “But on other planets the soldiers are celibate and I think they castrate their warriors on a few. I mean, there’s, like, hundreds of thousands of planets in the Confederacy and I can’t be expected to remember all of them.”

  Rochestri threw up his arms and smiled jovially, as if he were talking with long-time friends and expected them to laugh.

  “Um, yeah, I was just wondering what your tradition is on Kasway. Are your men eunuchs, Mister Browning?”

  “They have their kin folk back at home,” Jhoss said guardedly.

  “Aaah,” Rochestri said, fascinated. “That is excellent, because those families will motivate you and your men to great acts of valor on this crusade.”

  “Just what are you getting at, Marshal?” Jhoss demanded.

  “It’s quite simple. If you fail me, if you leave, you’ll have no families to go back to. I’ll make sure of that.”

  Jhoss chewed on his cigar.

  “Fine,” Jhoss said, chuckling nervously. “Mister Rochestri, you got the Wildcatz. Just tell us when to be ready.”

  Rochestri looked around at the other generals in the room and they realized that they were all essentially hostages in this crusade.

  A few exhausting hours later, the door to Inami’s quarter’s swung open and she walked in. She was so spent from the day’s activities, that she didn’t even notice that the door was unlocked. She thought to remove the fake beard and synthetic skin on her face, but instead decided first to remove the uniform. As she began unfastening the clasps, revealing the bandages used to squash down and conceal her ample curves, she became aware of a menacing presence in the room with her.

  “Onikano, full illumination,” Rochestri said, quickly closing up the uniform and turning around.

  With the lights up, she could see Captain Lazarus standing steadily in the corner, his face a mask hiding his emotions.

  “Explain yourself,” Rochestri barked.

  “Give me a lever large enough and I can move the stars,” Lazarus said, cryptically. “In truth I had hoped to search your quarters more thoroughly, but I believe I already know what I need to know. I was willing to overlook the use of foul aliens in your service,” Lazarus began, “And this ship is quite a curiosity,” he continued, stroking his fingers along the semi-translucent wall, “I wonder what the Technossiah Council would say of it.”

  Lazarus paused, waiting for Rochestri to respond, but was disappointed. Inami knew enough to keep her mouth shut when someone was trying to goad her into divulging information.

  “But this demands my action,” Lazarus snarled, throwing open the door to the closet, which was filled with women’s clothing and underwear. Beneath her mask, Inami held her breath. La
zarus knew everything. Years of preparation would now collapse, right at the very finish line. Inami’s sense of failure rose up again within her and she felt a sharp pain in her chest. The old familiar companion of worthlessness returned to her.

  “This kind of behavior is completely unacceptable for a member of the Second Council. Cross-dressing is a forbidden fetish, after all,” Lazarus accused.

  Inami slowly let her breath out again. The Captain had misguessed and it was time to retake the initiative.

  “We all have secrets,” Rochestri said forcefully. “Your safety from my scrutiny springs from the fact that far more pressing matters currently merit my attention. If, however, you insist on shoving yourself and your order and your planet, up to the top of my queue, I will be forced to act on your profanation.”

  Rochestri stepped close and was forced to cock her head back to meet the eyes of the towering Captain.

  “The Senshi of Correll were eliminated for far fewer reasons,” Rochestri said gravely.

  Lazarus blinked and Inami knew she had guessed right. It was always those with something to hide that were the most suspicious of others.

  “If I send my deputies to Ormen, I wonder what they will find?” Rochestri said, pleased to see the Captain take a step back. “I’m sure you can best anyone in the galaxy on the battlefield, but in this arena of the mind you are completely out of your league.”

  “I...I ask your forgiveness, Lord Rochestri,” Lazarus said steadily, trying to maintain himself on an equal level.

  “I will accept it based on your future performance. Earn the battlefield and you will have earned my clemency. Fail and you will have no home to return to,” Rochestri responded with satisfaction.

  Lazarus turned on his heel and headed for the door.

  “This is not over,” he said, “and next time I will choose the arena.”

  Only after the door closed did Inami allow herself to catch her breath and wipe the sweat from her eyes. Her bluff had worked, but only just barely. If he had demanded details of what she knew of his order, her lie would have been exposed. She felt like she had just dodged a knife and the adrenaline rushing through her veins made her anger rise.