Storm Fall

by Tracy Banghart

  Milek’s expression became all business, as he turned his attention to their situation. “I was worried he might be looking for you. We received reports he was in the area.” He moved to the doorway, using the wall as cover to peer into the alleyway. “Are you sure we can trust these villagers?”

  Aris gave Otto a quick hug. “Glad to see you,” he whispered.

  “Yes, we can trust them,” Aris said, stepping over the prostrate soldiers to stand at Milek’s shoulder. “I promised to help evacuate their children.” More explanations would have to wait.

  He kept his eyes trained on the alley. “We need to find Elom.”

  “Last I saw, he was in the clearing where the fighting was fiercest. But he may have followed me into this part of the village.”

  “Specialist Otto, you head to the left, toward the landing field,” Milek said. “I’ll go right and search these buildings. It’s possible he’s found cover.”

  “Yes, sir,” Otto said. His habitual humor dropped from his voice, and his eyes held a seriousness Aris was unused to seeing.

  “Be safe,” she said, squeezing his arm. He had a wife at home, like Galec had. Then again, they all had loved ones waiting.

  Otto slipped around the corner, his solagun steady in his hands. Milek turned toward her, searching for her face in the shadows. “You stay here. As soon as I’ve got Elom, I’ll come back for you.”

  She laughed. “No chance.”

  To his credit, he didn’t bother arguing. “It was worth a try.”

  With another fast, hard kiss they crept together into the sunlight.

  Almost immediately, gravel clattered as someone rounded the edge of a building in front of them.

  Milek raised his weapon, just as Calix came into view.

  He leaned heavily against the wall. One side of his face was purple and swollen with bruising.

  Aris gasped and ran to his side. He put a heavy hand on her shoulder, gripping tightly as his whole body sagged. He licked his bloody bottom lip and cleared his throat. “Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you.”

  She ducked under his arm to help him stand. “Why didn’t you stay with the children? You shouldn’t have—”

  “I came here for you, Aris. Of course I was going to try to find you.” His eyes met Milek’s, and something Aris didn’t quite understand seemed to pass between them.

  Milek threaded Calix’s other arm over his shoulders. “We need to get you somewhere safe. You’re no use to us like this.”

  “I’m okay,” Calix protested. “Leave me be. You have more important—”

  “We’re not leaving you, Calix,” Aris said, her voice hard. To this, there would be no argument.

  Two turns and a narrow alleyway later, concrete exploded above them in a shower of dust and debris. They dropped to the ground.

  Up ahead, through the haze, Aris saw a flash of white. Instinct and a raging fury took over. She grabbed Calix’s solagun from its holster and sprinted down the alley.

  “Aris!” She couldn’t tell if it was Calix or Milek who called out behind her. It didn’t matter. She kept running.

  When she reached the corner, she raised her weapon.

  There, midway down an open dirt road leading to the landing pad: a tall, dark-skinned figure dressed in a neat white tunic.

  “Stop!” Aris cried.

  Elom froze. Slowly, he turned. Smiled, white teeth flashing.

  Fear broke in a wave over her, even though she was the one holding the solagun.

  “Ah. I’d say the deception is officially over.” He showed little concern for his predicament, his voice light and easy. But Aris noted the tiny shift as he put his weight on one foot. Preparing to run. “The lovely Aris Haan is most certainly alive. For now, anyway.”

  Something in his eyes—the arrogance, maybe—cooled her fear. Her hands were dead steady on the weapon. And it was pointed at his heart. “Don’t move. Ward Vadim doesn’t want you dead, but I have no such qualms.”

  She raised her chin, the sunlight falling on her face—and on the scar he’d left there.

  His smile twisted as his gaze flicked to a spot beyond her. “Major Vadim, you look taller in the news vids.”

  Aris whirled. A few yards behind her, a Safaran soldier dragged Milek toward her, his weapon pressed against Milek’s temple.

  She didn’t hesitate. The blast of solagun fire hit the soldier square in the face, where there was no helmet or armor to protect him. He fell backward, as Milek wrenched himself away.

  “Aris—” His eyes widened.

  She turned again, in time to see Elom leveling a solagun at her chest.

  Oh holy.

  But instead of taking the shot, he sank to the ground, mouth open in surprise.

  Otto stood behind him, holding a chunk of concrete. “I would have shot him,” he said, a shaky smile flashing across his lips, “but a blighting villager stole my gun.”

  Chapter 37

  By the time Dysis found the others, standing in a wide alleyway near the burnt-out jail with an unconscious Elom at their feet, the rest of the Safaran soldiers were dead. But vengeance couldn’t bring Daakon back to her.

  He wasn’t yours, she kept telling herself. That didn’t help either.

  Specialist Pallas landed her recon next to Mann’s transport on the children’s playing field, away from the carnage of the landing pad. She and Baksen helped Dysis wrap Daakon’s body in a singed sheet from the clinic and carry it to the transport. Dysis wanted to stay there, holding vigil, but more work had to be done before they could head back to Spiro.

  The cargo jet wasn’t damaged, thankfully, so the children and injured villagers could be transported as planned, with Aris as their flyer. The only Safaran soldier to survive the battle was Lieutenant Nore, who’d gone to check on his son among the children. He joined the other villagers in their exodus.

  Major Vadim’s reinforcements arrived after the battle was over, so they helped organize the children and bury the bodies of the Safaran soldiers and villagers. A couple of recons patrolled the sky for more Safaran forces, but none appeared.

  The sun had begun its descent when the team finally departed. Dysis rode beside Calix in the transport, her gun poised over Elom in case he woke up, even though they’d bound his hands and stuck him with a sythin for good measure. Daakon lay beside him, wrapped in his soot-streaked shroud.

  She and Calix didn’t speak. She’d never admit that the warmth of his arm against hers was not unwelcome.

  When they landed at Spiro an hour later, Dysis and Calix filed off of the transport into a scene of chaos. Children milled across the landing pad, and injured Safaran villagers were helped to the tarmac. Milek had commed ahead, so a contingent of menders from Mekia were waiting.

  Dysis and Calix leaned against the rounded building, out of the way, as soldiers and menders streamed past. Commander Nyx and another woman greeted Major Vadim. Even from a distance Dysis recognized Ward Vadim’s scarred face. The woman hugged her son right there, in front of all his subordinates.

  “You should have someone look at your shoulder,” Calix said. “That solagun wound won’t heal itself.” One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. She was surprised he could even talk, with the bruising around his mouth.

  “Speak for yourself,” she replied gruffly. Her shoulder burned, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  He made an attempt at a smile, though it came out more like a grimace. His eyes found Aris in the crowd, but he didn’t leave Dysis’s side. She wished he would.

  “I’m sorry about Lieutenant Daakon.”

  She shrugged and kept her face a mask.

  “He was a strong son of a bitch,” Calix said. “I still can’t believe he stayed conscious after that snake bit him. When I was getting the venom out . . .” He cleared his throat. “The only way he was going down was a shot to the head. Nothing else could have stopped him.”

  Dysis’s mouth opened but nothing came out. She wanted to be infuriated, but
somehow she was comforted instead. Daakon was a strong son of a bitch.

  Several stern-faced, unfamiliar soldiers approached, weaving through the crowd.

  Calix sighed. “They’re for me, I imagine.”

  “For you?” Dysis asked. One of the men was carrying restraints. Surely he was here for Elom.

  Calix shot a look at her. “Remember how I got here?” When she nodded, he smiled grimly. “Well, this is my reckoning.”

  “Specialist Calix Pavlos, we have authorization to detain you for desertion,” one of the men said when he reached them.

  “Yes, sir.” Calix held out his hands.

  “Wait!” Aris ran across the tarmac, dodging children and soldiers alike. “What are you doing?” she asked angrily. “He’s allowed to be here. You can’t—”

  “It’s okay,” Calix said, as the soldier snapped on the restraints. “They have to.”

  Her eyes filled with panic. “Why? I don’t understand.”

  He smiled as they began to lead him away. “You were right, Aris. Some things are worth breaking the rules for.”

  Dysis saw the moment when understanding dawned. Aris moved to go after him, but Dysis grabbed her arm. “There’s nothing you can do. Not now, anyway.”

  “But . . . why would he do that? I just . . .” Aris stopped straining against Dysis’s grip. Her shoulders slumped. “Gods, I’m tired.”

  Dysis released her. She was tired, too. Bone tired.

  Numb.

  “I’m sorry about Daakon,” Aris murmured, the words barely audible over the rumble of voices on the landing pad.

  “I know.” Dysis bumped her arm, the only physical contact she could handle right now.

  “Maybe if we’d—”

  “No. Don’t do that,” Dysis cut her off. “We did what we did. None of us get to choose how our story ends. But it does end, always.”

  Aris’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled a little. “I’m grateful my story didn’t end today. It would have if you hadn’t found me.” She leaned against Dysis. “Thank you.”

  Dysis couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Her mother had once told her that good never appeared without a little bad thrown in, and vice versa. When she’d died, so soon after Dysis’s father, it had been difficult to find that little bit of good.

  But Aris was right about today. There was good in this.

  Samira and Alistar arranged the children in two lines on the landing pad as the injured adults were taken inside. “What will happen to them?” Dysis asked, when she could speak again, nodding toward the Safarans.

  “They’ll go to a refugee camp,” Aris replied, her gaze following Dysis’s. “Alistar and Samira will speak to the authorities, offer whatever intel they can, in exchange for asylum.”

  “Will it make a difference, do you think?”

  Aris crossed her arms over her chest. “The fact that we captured Elom will.”

  A small child ran up to Aris and pulled on her arm until she stooped to his level. His puff of dark hair wobbled as he said, “I did it! I rode in a wingjet! And it wasn’t scary at all!”

  Aris smiled and gently touched his face. “I’m glad, Zeb.”

  When he ran back to the others, he lifted his arms out from his sides and zoomed, as if he were a wingjet himself.

  Suddenly, the shifting bodies and quiet murmurs of the children fell silent. All heads turned in the same direction.

  Major Vadim and Commander Nyx led Elom, bound and blindfolded, from the transport. His flowing tunic and pants had somehow remained a pristine white, with the exception of a single splash of red down his back. Blood from the head wound Otto had given him.

  The man had been captured, injured, and was at their mercy . . . and yet he still wore a smug, self-satisfied smile.

  Dysis’s breath caught. Because standing right there on the tarmac before him, Ward Vadim faced her torturer for the first time.

  Chapter 38

  It was a moment she’d been waiting months for. Galena had about a minute’s warning before Commander Nyx and Milek led Elom off the transport. He couldn’t see her and she didn’t speak, but somehow it felt like he knew she was there. Maybe it was his careless smile, the one he’d flashed when he’d first kissed her face with fire.

  Galena wanted to spit on him. Pound him with her fists. Break him.

  But she had an audience and a responsibility to her dominion.

  Milek watched her closely, but she kept her chin high and gave nothing away.

  Galena followed Elom’s procession down a series of featureless hallways. All stationpoints were equipped with several small holding cells, and she wanted to see him locked away with her own eyes. It would be better once he was transferred to a high-security facility, but the blank white door sliding shut in his face was still satisfying.

  “How are you?” Milek asked, as they returned to the main corridor. Commander Nyx walked a respectful distance ahead.

  Galena chose to answer him honestly. “I hardly know,” she said. “When I decided to visit you, I certainly didn’t expect to witness Lieutenant Haan’s return, let alone Elom’s capture.” She laughed a little. “I truly don’t quite know what to do.”

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve had good news.” Milek smiled, but his joy was tempered with grief, and Galena knew why. Lieutenant Daakon had been his oldest friend. She could still clearly picture them as children, running to the end of the street to join in a snowball battle with their band of local boys. Throughout their lives, Milek and Daakon had stayed thick as brothers. When Milek had been selected for Military, Daakon had volunteered.

  “What happens now?” Milek asked. “With Elom and Aris, there’s a lot of news to share with the world.”

  “Indeed.” Galena bit back a sigh at the thought of all the statements and questions in her future. “I’ll need to head back to Panthea soon. But first I’ll contact Ward Nekos, and we’ll arrange for Elom’s transfer to a more secure facility. Once I get back to the city, we’ll announce Aris’s resurrection. Maybe have the ceremony after all.”

  Milek nodded, his mind clearly elsewhere.

  “Go find Lieutenant Haan. She deserves a warm welcome after the week she’s had.” His eyes brightened. Galena squeezed his hand. “And for Gods’ sakes, get that girl a vid comm to her poor parents. They need to see the miracle for themselves.”

  Chapter 39

  Calix’s conduct hearing was held in Mekia two days later. An indoor training space had been transformed into a makeshift courtroom, with three tables arranged at one end and a row of chairs a few feet away.

  Dysis slipped into the chair at the end of the row. Only two other chairs were occupied. The other character advocates. She didn’t recogonize either soldier. A few minutes later the commander of the base strode in, followed by Calix’s direct supervisor, then Calix himself. He was unshackled but tired looking, his tan skin made haggard by the bright solar lights.

  Each man sat behind one of the tables. When Calix saw her, his eyes widened.

  The base commander, Commander Helos, began with a short statement. “We are here to hear testimony concerning Specialist Calix Pavlos. On the eighth day of this month, Specialist Pavlos vacated his post without authorization to attend the funeral of one—” the grizzled soldier consulted his notes “—Aris Haan.”

  Dysis wanted to shout, “That’s Lieutenant Aris Haan,” but she kept her lips pressed together.

  Commander Helos continued. “Specialist Pavlos then proceeded to insinuate himself on a highly sensitive mission under false pretenses. We will first hear the full facts of the case, and then open the floor to advocates for and against Specialist Pavlos. As ranking officer at this stationpoint, I will recommend a course of action at that point. Do you understand this process as it has been explained to you?” He turned to catch Calix’s eye.

  Calix nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Commander Helos then nodded at Calix’s superior officer, who proceeded to share a complete
recounting of the desertion and mission to retrieve Aris.

  Then the two other soldiers took turns describing Calix’s honesty, integrity, and skill as a mender. There were no advocates against. One soldier, Calix’s sectormate, tried to explain why Calix would have gone to such great lengths to attend the funeral. “Specialist Pavlos spoke on many occasions about the depth of his affection for Lieutenant Haan,” the man said, looking a little sheepish. He spoke in a nervous, stilted manner that suggested he’d memorized his speech. “It is my belief that while Specialist Pavlos knew he was breaking the law, he was not doing it out of malicious or unlawful intent. His feelings for Lieutenant Haan overcame his good sense and he made a regrettable mistake.”

  When it was Dysis’s turn to provide her testimony, she dropped a packet of silco onto Helos’s table. She didn’t bother sitting back down. “Here are some documents from Major Vadim, on Spiro Stationpoint. It is his recommendation that Specialist Pavlos receive the most lenient punishment available for his crimes. As for me,” she banged a hand on the table in front of Calix, making him jump. “I personally think you should give the guy an award of some kind. Sure, he left his stationpoint without authorization, but he did it to honor a fallen comrade and comfort that soldier’s family. And, upon learning that this soldier, Lieutenant Aris Haan, might still be alive, he chose to join a dangerous mission to retrieve her. Specialist Pavlos’s efforts were crucial in the mission’s success and directly contributed to the saving of lives.”

  She described in her own words what it’d been like to watch Calix save Daakon, from killing the venomous snake to making a contraption suck the poison out of the wound. As she spoke, she and Calix shared a look, bearing witness to Daakon’s first brush with death.

  She remembered what Calix had said about Daakon’s strength, and it bolstered her as she explained why the Lieutenant couldn’t offer advocacy himself.

  When she was finished, Commander Helos took Major Vadim’s statement and retreated briefly to review it with the other officer. They returned and asked Calix to stand.