by Brian Dorsey
“Go ahead, Emily.”
“Yes, sir. The Council member is locked up nice and cozy in security area 3. Orion and the engineer are checking over the ship for damage and rearming.”
“And the rest of the team?”
“Shara is with Thay. The docs are still working on him; Shara will contact me if there is any news.”
“And Katalya?”
“In her stateroom…she’s not good.”
“I wouldn’t expect so. From what I know and what Mori has told me, this might be too much for her.”
“She’s strong,” replied Martin. “She’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” He leaned back again, closing his eyes. Frustration washed over him and leaned forward, slamming his fist against the desk. “Three fucking dead.”
“That’s better than the thousands that would be dying on that moon right now, especially with the Dorans showing up.” Martin placed her hands on Stone’s desk and leaned in toward him. “You saved lives today, sir.”
Stone sighed, his face still looking toward the desk. “Wouldn’t it be great if just for once we had an outcome where no one dies?” He felt his teeth grinding. “Aren’t you tired of trying to find the good in death?”
Martin pushed her body erect. “If you don’t try…then what does that make us?”
“I guess you’re right,” replied Stone. “We’re better—”
“Really, sir? What does that make us?”
He could see the frustration and anxiety on her face. “Emily?”
“Do you know the Akota tell stories about me to their children to scare them? They tell them I’m some kind of monster that takes their fathers from them.”
“Sit,” said Stone. He waited for Martin to lower herself into the chair on the other side of his desk. “Are you okay?”
“I…I’m fine, sir.” she replied as she began to rise. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Sit,” ordered Stone.
“Really, sir. I’m—”
“Sit. Down.” He waited for her to settle back into the chair. “How else would they look at us? We were their enemies.” He leaned forward. “We thought no different of the Scout Rangers, especially the painted faces.”
“Sir, I really don’t want—”
“It’s okay to feel, Emily,” said Stone. “You can’t always leave everything locked up inside. It’s not a sign of weakness.”
“That’s very Akota of you,” said Martin with a weak laugh, turning her head away from him. When she turned back, her face was flush. “When I killed, I did it because I believed I was fighting for my people. At least I used to…”
“But your reputation as a warrior never bothered you before?”
“And it still doesn’t,” snapped Martin. “But I’m a professional, not some fucking merc…or a monster.”
“A professional soldier is still a monster to their enemy, Emily. We just don’t usually end up living with our former enemies.”
“You’re right, sir,” she replied. “Thank you for—”
“But the story-telling isn’t what’s bothering you, is it?”
“Sir?”
“Do you remember the first time you took a life?”
“Sir?”
“Do you?”
Martin sighed. “Yes.”
“What do you remember about it?”
“I don’t know what that has to do with anything?”
He had to get to her.
“What do you remember?”
“Fine,” huffed Martin. “It was a Scout Ranger on Sierra 7.”
“How?”
Martin twisted her body as she sat in the chair. “I killed him at 50 meters with my rifle.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Nothing.”
Stone stood and walked to the front of his desk and sat on the edge next to Martin. He knew where the source of her pain was, he just didn’t know the details. “What about Golf 2?”
Martin’s head shot up toward him. “What?”
“Tell me what happened.”
He saw Martin tighten her body and turn away.
“It’s okay. Tell me.”
She turned back, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You can…you need to.”
Martin looked into his eyes but he could tell they were looking past him, as if she was watching something play out on a screen. “I was trying to find meds for…for Hugh,” she said softly. “I found the old Terillian base but they’d taken it over.”
“The Phel?”
“Yes. And I had to…” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “A lot of them were young.”
“Tell me about the one you remember.”
“I remember them all,” she snapped.
“There’s always one you remember,” he confessed, with a slight crack in his voice.
“I…”
He knelt next to her. “Tell me.”
“She was just a kid,” mumbled Martin. “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t even…” She wiped her cheeks. “I could see she hated me so much, just because I was Humani…but I didn’t want to...” Unable to hold back, she began to sob.
Stone felt her lean toward him and took her in his arms. He ran his hand over her hair and turned her head so that he could look into her tear-soaked eyes. “And because you won’t forget…that’s why you’re no monster.”
She returned his gaze. “But I’ve done other things…I can feel the monster inside me, pushing against my soul. Sometimes it’s all I can do to—”
Stone’s stomach tightened as his mind drifted. “I was just a lieutenant and we were sent to the Foxtrot system to deal with a warlord that had been working with the Terillians. It took us about a week of working through small villages before we found out where he was hiding. The raid was quick and then we started a sweep for intel…”
“Sir?”
He didn’t reply. His thoughts were on a faraway planet and years ago.
“Tyler?” Martin was almost whispering.
“We found a room…” He took a deep breath. “It was where the warlord kept his toys.”
“Toys?”
“The dissenters he tortured…and…” He paused again. “There were close to a dozen young girls chained to beds in the room.”
“Oh,” replied Martin. “But that wasn’t your—”
“There was this one girl…probably thirteen standard years…maybe,” continued Stone. “She had these soft blue eyes and almost golden hair.”
“But that’s—”
“I remembered those eyes from a few days earlier when we passed through one of the villages under the warlord’s control. I remembered because her father begged us to take the girl with us before the warlord’s people took her.” A weak laugh escaped him. “Of course I ignored him, just like every other time someone asked for something that the mission wouldn’t support…besides, what the hell would we do with a little girl? She would have slowed us down and there wasn’t anywhere for her to go…and she was just one of hundreds.”
“But you saved her,” said Martin. “He may have already…” She paused, “…but you saved her.”
“No,” replied Stone, swallowing hard. “I didn’t. When the warlord…hell, I don’t even remember his name…when he found out we were coming he…”
“He killed them.” Martin was no stranger to what happened in the Dark Zone.
“Yes. He ordered all of them killed.”
“What happened to him?”
“I pressed my pistol against his forehead and blew the back of his head off,” said Stone. “But it didn’t bring her back.”
“You didn’t have—”
“Amelia. That was her name,” said Stone. “I have no idea why I remember it; like I said, she was one of hundreds. And I have seen far worse things in my years.” It was now Stone who felt a tear rolling down his face. “But we don’t pick the ones that will haunt us.”
&nb
sp; “Then what do we do about it?” asked Martin.
“We live…and we fight,” replied Stone. “And we carry the pain—their pain—because we owe it to them and all of the other ones that don’t stay with you.”
He rose, pulling Martin with him. As they stood, Martin stepped back from their embrace.
“Thank you,” said Martin as she looked up toward him, drying her eyes.
“Sooner or later we all need to talk about our one,” said Stone. “For me, it took Sergeant Yates and a bottle of whiskey to get it out of me.”
“Sergeant Yates?” Martin’s thoughts drifted back to those dark days on Golf 2 and how much she had learned from Yates.
“Now there’s a great soldier,” said Stone as a small smile faded. “I wonder if I’ll meet him in battle someday.”
“You won’t,” replied Martin flatly.
“Why’s that?”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead? What battle? When?”
“Just a few months after…after you left,” said Martin. “He was killed in a training accident.”
“A training accident?” Yates deserved a better death than that.
“He was transferred to train new infantry recruits and one of them inadvertently discharged his rifle and killed him.”
“Son of a bitch,” said Stone. “Killed by a recruit.”
“Crazy times,” replied Martin.
“Crazy times,” repeated Stone.
After a long pause, Martin stood. “Thank you.”
“For what?” asked Stone.
“Just for talking about…for listening.”
Stone stood and walked over to Martin. “We all need someone to talk to sometimes…even the great Major Emily Martin.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Martin with a smile.
Stone looked into her eyes and returned the smile.
He realized his gaze was still locked onto hers but he couldn’t turn away. He hadn’t told the story about the girl to anyone since Yates so many years ago…but it felt right telling her. She, better than anyone, could understand.
Her eyes told him she felt the same way.
He raised her hand to Martin’s face. “We’re gonna be okay.”
Martin closed her eyes as his hand pressed against her cheek. The softness of her skin sent a tingle down his spine.
Martin opened her eyes.
This time when their eyes met, she stepped away. “Sir, I…”
Stone dropped his hand and stepped back. The break of their contact brought him back to his senses. “Uh, yes…” he stammered. “I think we should call it a night.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with an awkward smile. “I’ll stop by Katalya and check on her.”
“Thank you,” replied Stone.
With a nod, Martin turned and almost sprinted out of his stateroom.
“Damn it,” cursed Stone as the door closed. He had no idea what had caused him to put his hand to her cheek…and no idea why it felt the way it did.
***
Martin stood outside Katalya’s stateroom, her hand centimeters from the announcing panel. Her mind raced and her stomach was tight as she thought back to her meeting with Stone. Normally, any feelings like that would have caused her to hit the gym, the range, or the bar…but she had told Stone she would talk to Katalya. It was the first thing she could think of to get out of his stateroom and the awkward moment they had shared.
She took a deep breath and pressed the panel.
The door slid open.
“Katalya?” asked Martin as she looked inside the room.
There was no reply.
“Katalya?”
Martin stepped into the room. “Marshal Stone wanted me to—” She paused when she saw Katalya setting on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. “Can I get you anything?”
Katalya slowly raised her head to show a tear-soaked face. “Yes...I would like Magnus back…or my children,” she snapped. “Can you get that for me?”
Martin exhaled, closing her eyes briefly. She may not have experienced everything Katalya had, but she knew what it meant to lose someone you loved. “No, I can’t.” She walked over to Katalya and knelt in front of her. “We can’t bring back the ones we’ve lost.”
“I have nothing left.”
“That’s not true,” replied Martin. “You have your sister…and...”
“Why are you trying to…why are you here?” said Katalya.
“I told Marshal Stone I would check on you,” asked Martin. “To see if you were okay…”
‘Of course she’s not okay,’ thought Martin as soon as she said the words.
Katalya guffawed. “What do you think?”
“I…I just…”
“You suck at this,” said Katalya.
Of course Katalya was right, but Stone had gotten her off her game and now she was stuck talking feelings with Katalya. “We both know this isn’t my thing but I’m here…” She paused. “Look, I won’t claim to know what’s going through your mind right now but I know what it’s like to hurt so much that it feels like your stomach is on fire and you can’t breathe because every breath reminds you that you’re alive and someone you love isn’t.”
“When I met Magnus, I was ready to die,” said Katalya. “I’d fought so hard as a slave in the Dark Zone just to stay alive and for a moment…” Tears began to flow again. “…for a moment, I had everything I wanted but slavers ripped that from me...”
Katalya stopped and lowered her head, unable to speak.
Martin placed her hand on Katalya’s knee. “I’m not gonna try to say some bullshit that will make you feel better…” Martin’s thoughts went to the sight of her father as he died. “…but I will gladly help you take your revenge on the ones that have done this.”
Katalya looked up toward Martin. “That…and pain are all I have left.”
“Let that pain turn to hate,” said Martin. “It works for me.”
***
“Is he ready?” asked Stone.
“Yes, Marshal Stone,” replied the security officer.
“And the man that brought him?”
“Intel verified the guy in there is a Council member and per your orders, we returned the other man’s weapons and he left on an old transport we had confiscated in a previous raid.”
“Very well,” said Stone, “let’s see what the Councilman has to say.”
Stone nodded and a guard opened the door to Councilman Coppertree’s holding cell.
Stone walked into the room and sat across from Coppertree. He took a moment to look over the man. Coppertree’s attire or physical features were unimportant; his physique was soft and he was dressed in the leather and brass-accessorized outfits common to all Association members, but what mattered were his eyes.
Fear.
He wouldn’t need much convincing.
“Do you know what has happened to the Association…to the council members?”
“I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” replied Coppertree, his voice cracking. “Both the Akota and the Humani have violated the terms of—”
“You do understand your diplomatic duplicity won’t work,” interrupted Stone. “The days of the Association playing both sides of the fence are over…because there is no more Association.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You know who attacked you…what they were. And you know who we are.” He leaned forward. Again Coppertree’s eyes betrayed him. “Alright. Now that that is settled, we can have a conversation.”
“I’ll want some assurances,” replied Coppertree. “And it won’t be cheap.”
“I don’t think you understand your situation, Councilman.”
“I think I do,” replied Coppertree as Stone noticed a small, unsure smile start to form. “If the Humani had taken me, they would torture me…but you are Akota now and the Akota—”
Coppertree paused and his eyes widened as the door behind Stone opened.
Stone turne
d to see Martin step into the room and lean against the wall.
He turned back toward Coppertree; the flash of confidence had faded from his face.
“So you were saying something about not being tortured,” said Martin with a glance toward Stone. “Last time I checked, I’m not Akota.”
“I take it you know who my friend here is?” asked Stone.
Coppertree locked his gaze on Stone, purposely avoiding Martin’s stare. “I do.”
“Good,” said Martin. “Then I’ll make a deal with you.” She pressed her back off from against the wall. “Either you answer Marshal Stone’s questions…or we’ll have to chat,” she added as she played with a knife drawn from her vest.
“So who do you want to talk to, Councilman…me or Major Martin?”
“What do you want to know?” asked Coppertree.
“Good choice,” said Martin as she pressed her hands against the desk, leaning forward toward Coppertree. “If you don’t answer every single question, I’m coming back. Do you understand?”
Coppertree averted his gaze from Martin and nodded.
“Look at me!” shouted Martin, causing Coppertree to almost jump out of his chair. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” mumbled Coppertree.
“Good,” said Martin as she stood. “Easy peasy,” she added with a smile.
As she turned to exit the room, Stone saw her smile fade. Her reputation might be useful, but Stone wondered how it now weighed on her after their conversation.
The door closed behind Martin and Stone returned his focus to Coppertree.
“What do you know about Dolus?”
“Everything,” replied Coppertree.
“How severely was the station damaged in the attack?”
“It took significant damage but Astra Varus has doubled her efforts after placing Alpha Humana under martial law. With complete control of the Humani government and the Dorans more involved in the Dark Zone, the Dolus project is almost back on track to have the fleet and army ready when virus takes effect.”
“How far along has the development of the virus come?”
“You don’t know?”
“You don’t get to ask the questions,” replied Stone, his concern growing.
“It is fully developed and the first shipment of slaves with the genetic coding have already been shipped to Xen worlds.”
Stone leaned forward. “It’s started?”
