by Gun Brooke
“Listen.” Roshan bit into a piece of honey bread and chewed with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve met several of the top people in the resistance face to face, globally speaking, and know some of their real names. They’ve kept my secret also. Without the experience of these senior rebels, the young, new recruits don’t have a chance.”
“I know you haven’t had time to examine the documents I sent you,” Andreia said, “but you may have some suggestions already.”
Dangerous blue sparks shot from Roshan’s eyes before she spoke. “As a matter of fact, I have. It’s been on my mind the last few days, ever since I got back from—” She stopped herself.
“The mission from hell.” Andreia said.
“Exactly.” Roshan nodded. “I watched the transmission from the Supreme Constellations regarding the miraculous news of our young prince. Obviously, Kellen O’Dal has powerful connections within the SC. If I can get word to her, maybe she can bring reinforcements. Or something!” Roshan flung a hand in the air, a gesture so familiar it took Andreia’s breath away.
Suddenly she saw the younger Roshan, with white-blond wavy hair down to her waist, arguing with their professors, her eyes alight with intelligence and a thirst for knowledge. She’d gesture emphatically when she was trying to get her point across, and for a moment Andreia saw the same fire again in Roshan. She kept her hair short-cropped now, which was surprisingly attractive and accentuated her high cheekbones and high forehead. She had a strong face, despite her war weariness and something Andreia interpreted as perpetual pain, or even guilt. Am I kidding myself when I think I can read her face after so many years? But once I knew it as well as I know my own.
“Or something,” Andreia mused, nibbling a piece of fruit. “Do it. We need every possible advantage. I’ve sent you data for this lunar month’s patrol patterns. You should be able to use it when you make a plan.”
“So I’m supposed to do this alone? What happened to working together?” Roshan sounded disdainful, but a tinge of disappointment in her voice gave her away.
Andreia’s heart picked up speed. Is she genuinely concerned about me, now that she knows the truth? Or is it too late for any kind of friendship? “I want daily updates on your progress, several if possible. I do need to be back doing my job, though. I’m on a tight schedule with very little time for frills. What I do for the resistance, I do at night.” Andreia stood abruptly. “Get some painkillers. Preferably more treatment than that. You seem to be in agony.”
“I am—”
“—fine. I know. But you have to function at peak efficiency. You have to be able to throw yourself into battle at a moment’s notice. You can’t do that the way you look now.”
“I could take you down any day, Andreia,” Roshan said sardonically, with her typical expression, eyebrow raised. “Wounded or not.”
“But I’m not the enemy. You may think you’re made of steel, but you’re not. If you need any medical supplies or equipment, I can arrange it.”
A sudden shadow of vulnerability flickered over Roshan’s sculpted features. “Thank you.”
“Anything, Roshan. All you have to do is ask.”
Roshan’s lips parted, and she seemed to hold her breath for a moment. Then her face hardened again, and she donned the blasé mask Andreia had seen so many times over the years. “Thank you, but as I said, I’m fine.”
“Okay. I’ll see myself out.” Andreia pulled her jacket on as she strode through the hallway to the front door. Wellter was standing by to escort her down the stairs.
“Thank you for bringing her home, ma’am,” he said.
“She’s a friend.” She was, anyway.
“She needs a friend, so I’m glad to hear that.”
“Ms. O’Landha is injured,” Andreia said spontaneously. “It’s pretty bad, I think. Please, make sure she sees a doctor.”
“I will do my best.”
Wellter’s thin features didn’t give anything away, but Andreia thought she saw a hint of warmth in his eyes. She guessed that was as much as anybody could promise around the strong-willed Roshan.
After tying her scarf on and pulling up her hood, she mounted her bike. As she engaged the propulsion system and sped down the same garden path she’d arrived on, Andreia thought of her former friend. Her tenacity had probably kept her alive all these years.
Andreia decided to use the official roads back to Ganath. She was less likely to run into scattered OECS forces looking for the rebel who had taken out their assault team. Andreia sighed as she let the hoverbike charge down the thoroughfare. All she wanted was to get back home and stretch out on her bed for a few hours before her mother called and briefed her about today’s business.
Andreia hunched over the handlebars, exhausted. Last night’s events had overwhelmed her, and she had so many questions and thoughts running through her mind that she deliberately shut them all off. Only Roshan’s profound surprise when she realized the truth lingered.
Chapter Seven
“Rae, we need to talk.”
Admiral Rae Jacelon looked up from her computer. The sight of the tall, blond woman standing in the doorway, dressed in a Supreme Constellations Fleet uniform with the provisional insignia of an ensign on her collar, made her shiver.
“You sound serious. Is something wrong?” Rae gestured for her wife to sit down in the chair across from her. “Is it Armeo?” she asked, alarmed.
“No. Armeo’s fine. I talked to him an hour ago.” Kellen, ramrod straight as usual, sat down with a dangerous litheness that Rae knew could combust if unleashed.
“Then what is it?”
“I’ve received a message…through rather unconventional channels.”
“Yes?” Rae pushed the computer console out of the way and sipped her Cormanian coffee. As it spread through her system, she felt rejuvenated.
“My presence is requested…on Gantharat.” Kellen held up her hands, palms up. “Please, Rae, listen to me—”
“On Gantharat? There’s a price on your head!” Rae slammed her mug down on the desk. “Whose request is it?”
“When I was active in the resistance, I belonged to the same cell that my father did before me. One of my senior officers has managed to send me a subspace message, via a chain of beacons that her space team just deployed.”
“Who’s this woman?”
“Her call sign is Paladin.”
“All right.” Rae tried to calm the surge of acid in her throat. “And what exactly does she want from you?”
“She sent bad news. Very bad. Apparently the Onotharians have captured most of the senior rebels in the resistance. As we speak, they’re arranging to send the ones that survived to the Kovos asteroid. Once there, they’ll ‘disappear’ and we won’t be able to get to them.”
“How many?” Rae asked in a low voice.
“Approximately 6,000 globally.” Kellen pressed her palms together and stuck them between her knees.
Rae knew this meant Kellen was more than upset. “And where do you fit into all this?”
“They seem to think I’m well connected within the Supreme Constellations space. Most people on Gantharat know about Armeo and that the SC is mobilizing.” Kellen took a deep breath. “Paladin was responsible for bringing my father’s body home. She didn’t have to do that, and it was dangerous for her to expose herself. We’ve saved each other’s lives many times.”
“Do you know this woman’s real name?” Rae fought to remain calm. “Darling, you can’t just drop everything and go off half-cocked.”
“No, I don’t know her true identity. But she’s a comrade in arms, and I can’t sit idly by when the Onotharians are about to destroy that many people in prisons such as Kovos and Vaksses.
“Kovos is a hellish place, and hardly anyone returns alive. Released prisoners describe long tunnels leading into deep dungeons. Because it has no guards inside to maintain order, every man, woman, or even child has to defend himself. Apparently only the fittest survive, because foo
d is scarce, in fact nonexistent for those condemned to death by starvation.”
“I know. I’ve been briefed.” A few months earlier, when Kellen had faced possible extradition, Rae had, with increasing outrage, studied one report after another detailing the inhumane conditions and the cowardly way the Onotharians treated their prisoners. Now, Kellen’s eyes burned with a piercing light, and her pale features were tense with harnessed emotions.
“Kovos is the final destination. When the Onotharians initially capture a group of rebels, they keep the ones that they think they can successfully interrogate in places like the Vaksses asteroid prison, which has high-tech, top-level security.
“So if Kovos is hellish in itself, Vaksses is all about torture and coercion. You know why I have to act. They need help now. Not in two months when the SC has debated and discussed every miniscule detail.”
Rae knew Kellen was right. Her wife’s blue eyes shimmered, and for Rae, it was still a wondrous mystery that she was married to this extraordinary woman—and that Kellen loved her with such abandon.
A Protector of the Realm, destined from birth to guard the life of the O’Saral Royales, Kellen knew how to fight for the ones in her care. She had shown Rae the O’Dal family tree in a leather-bound book, which they’d manage to rescue, along with documents clearly incriminating the Onotharian Empire. For hundreds of years, the O’Dals had guarded the royal family of Gantharat, the O’Saral Royales.
Marrying her had made Rae a Protector by default, a role she’d dutifully, and gladly, taken on. She loved Armeo, the boy in their care who was the only surviving royal family member, the Prince of Gantharat, as if he were her own son. He was tutored at her parents’ estate in Europa, together with his two best friends, and seemed to thrive, though Rae knew he missed her and Kellen, as they did him.
They hadn’t been able to visit him for four weeks, and Rae suspected their separation was taking a toll on Kellen. The last few months had been hectic, and with Rae’s promotion to admiral, the responsibility for the mobilization weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Rae’s father, Admiral Ewan Jacelon, was ultimately in charge of the impending war, and her mother, Dahlia, an illustrious diplomat, worked long days trying to pave the way by persuading other neighboring worlds to join the SC in the fight against Onotharian oppression.
And now this… “Darling, have you thought about the fact that you’d be leaving Armeo behind. Again?”
Kellen winced visibly at Rae’s words.
“I’m sorry,” Rae said and reached out. When Kellen didn’t respond, she knew that her hasty words had stung deeply. “I really am sorry.”
As Kellen slowly clasped Rae’s hand and held it tight, Rae felt the tremors from her beloved reverberate through her arm. Kellen was obviously torn, and Rae realized how pulled she must be between her desire to help the resistance and her wish to return to Earth, to Armeo.
“I don’t want to leave Armeo, or you. But this is about the people of my homeworld. I can make a difference, if I’m allowed to go. And if I succeed, this might pave the way for Armeo…his future as heir to the throne. That is my concern, and my business. You know that.”
“I know. But…you’d go alone?” Rae stared at her. “Granted you’re a formidable fighter, Kellen, but—”
“Not alone. I’d want to take a small strike force—pilots, a marine unit, and a seasoned tactical officer. This would be a covert operation, but I realize it has to go through official channels. And meet with your approval.”
Rae rose from her chair and rounded the desk. Sitting down on the corner of it, she slowly swung one leg back and forth, her eyes following her shiny leather-mix boot. “You’ve really thought this through. How long have you known about it?”
“Since this morning. I wanted to consider my options before I consulted you.”
“I see.” Rae looked up at Kellen, searching for any doubt in her luminescent eyes. “And do you have any special people in mind?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Commander D’Artansis and Commander Grey. They’ve been to Gantharat, they’re experienced…and I trust them.”
“They’re our friends,” Rae concluded. “Anyone else?”
“I realize that you can’t go.” Kellen seemed to slump for a second, then squared her shoulders and returned Rae’s gaze with apparent confidence. “I’d have preferred to see this mission through under your command.”
“Do you have specific plans drawn up already?” Rae asked, but didn’t comment on the impossibility of Kellen’s last wish.
“Yes, but they’re fairly rudimentary. I need more intel from Paladin before I commit to any specific plan. Right now, I’m devising several backup options in case I need to change our course of action.”
“You speak of this as if it’s a done deal,” Rae reminded Kellen. “I haven’t approved anything. Yet.”
Kellen leaned forward and placed her hands, her fingers laced, on Rae’s knee. “This is about doing the right thing. I can’t allow my world to lose their most loyal heroes. They’ve sacrificed almost everything, risked their lives over and over, to take a stand against Onotharat.”
She spoke in a low, urgent voice that Rae hadn’t heard her use in a long time, not since Kellen had sat across from her after being captured and her ship towed to the Gamma VI space station. Rae remembered the defiant Gantharian with blue tears of fury streaming down her face, and her heart ached.
“I can’t promise anything, Kellen,” Rae said, struggling to keep the dread out of her voice. “Give me all the information you have and an overview of the plans you’re prepared to set in motion.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was nothing sarcastic in Kellen’s response. This was business and had very little, and yet everything, to do with their marriage. “I’ll have it ready for you in an hour.”
“Good. Include a request for vessels with the new drive we installed.”
The Fleet had made good use of the last months by copying the propulsion system of the Onotharian ships they held in custody. Now they could fly faster than tachyon-mass drive, which was prohibited because it polluted space, and a ship could reach the Gantharat System in one week, instead of three.
Kellen rose. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. See you later.”
After Kellen nodded and left, Rae walked to the window, drinking from her keep-hot mug. Vast fields billowed around the Cormanian capital, and the fact that she was on the eighty-fourth floor made it possible to see the curve of the horizon all the way to the ocean. This breathtakingly beautiful planet contained protected areas that normally would have tickled her imagination.
They had moved here from the Gamma VI space station, where Rae had been the commanding officer before her promotion, and now resided in the Supreme Constellations’ headquarters on Corma, not far from the SC border, but inside the protective ring of space stations.
At the moment, her life consisted of planning and preparing for war; she worked on tactics all day and processed them all night in her dreams. Sometimes I feel trapped, as if this is all I’ll ever be. A warrior.
Rae forced her thoughts to return to the people she couldn’t do without. Kellen and Armeo. Not even the threat of a protracted war could cast a shadow on her feelings for them. Kellen had made it possible for her to open her heart to others as well: her parents, with whom she’d had a complicated relationship; their friends Leanne D’Artansis and Owena Grey; and the man who held his hand over them politically, Councilman Thorosac. Rae was finally able to show how much she cared for them all.
However, Kellen’s latest plans might alter everything, and possibly not for the better.
*
Roshan sat among her peers in the Commercial Lobby, listening to a speech honoring its oldest, most esteemed member. An elderly woman, at the impressive age of 145, was retiring as CEO for her global conglomerate, and they had gathered to honor her and to welcome her successor, her granddaughter.
“She’s too young. She won�
��t last once she has to deal with the Onotharians.”
Roshan heard the ironic whisper behind her and at first let it go. However, the Commercial Lobby needed to work as a unit and had no room for internal ridicule or disdain.
“Actually,” Roshan stated mildly, in a low tone, but with underlying authority, “Cimilia O’Tarra is not only one of the most promising industrial leaders of our time, but she’s run most of the business for the last two years. Perhaps you weren’t aware of that?”
Her sarcastic words had the desired effect when the two men slammed their jaws shut and looked as if they’d just tasted something sour.
“We should count ourselves happy that the Commercial Lobby is getting such a resourceful person,” Roshan added, unable to resist twisting the knife. A few of the older patriarchs still frowned upon female leaders, but they were a dying breed. If they knew what my night job is, they’d faint. Roshan bit down on the inside of her cheek, her usual method of preventing further scathing comments, and turned forward again.
It was certainly hard to focus on her day job. Just this morning, she’d received a coded message from her space team that Kellen O’Dal had acknowledged her message and would respond within twelve hours. However, two transports were due to ship prisoners to the Kovos asteroid, which meant they had rapidly processed the resistance fighters at the assemblage camps such as Vaksses.
Roshan knew Andreia did what she could to delay such a move. Roshan was in contact with her twice a day, using the Class 1 transmitter, which she now kept in a hidden pocket in her silver-silk tank top. A woven net of sensor-deflecting material kept it invisible to most scanners and sensors.
The meeting finally ended, and after a brief lunch, Roshan excused herself and left to return to her office. Her chauffeur waited in her expensive hovercraft. With a familiar tinge of embarrassment, Roshan sank down in the plush backseat. She closed her eyes for a moment and thought of how this vehicle would seem from a poor Gantharian farmer’s point of view.
Suddenly a faint vibration hummed against her skin through the tank top, and Roshan’s eyes snapped open. Reaching inside her shirt, she tapped the transmitter, and at the same time, she pressed a sensor, making sure the wall between her and the driver was closed.
