by Kara Hale
“Kijin, I’m up. Don’t burst a blood vessel Ecks, regiment frowns on that sorta thing.”
“Thank the gods,” I said, sighing in relief.
“What? Worried about me commander?” I could practically see him leering at me as I baulked at the title.
“Darien, I told you not to call me that. It’s just awkward,” I replied, making a face of disgust. I was his friend first and his superior second. Hell, it was his own puppyish larks that landed him his demotion anyway. “I’m hearing some fire in your area, is there anything I need to know about?”
“All work and no play,” he grumbled and this time I could see him pouting. “Yurick and Zelenski have it covered. It was just a wandering rebel hitting our OP. By the way, if you’re going to sleep all day, you’re going to miss out on breakfast. And once its cold, well, there’s no fixing it.”
My eyes snapped open as I found myself seated up right and my limbs no longer laden with the paralysis-inducing drug.
Instead, I was tied down with only the bare minimum of room available to reach from the tray to mouth. It was something, at least. Darien had shoved a bowl of some brown gray oats in front of me and had taken the same post from our conversation before.
“Thanks for the freedom. And the food,” I said. If the words came out a little more sarcastic then necessary, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want him thinking I could be broken so easily.
“It’s the least we could do, First Lieutenant.” Like before, he pulled out a smoke. He never smoked in my dreams. “Want one?” He offered me the pack, a small gesture that would help me ease the road to companionship. It seemed that my negotiation training would finally be put to good use.
“Certainly. But I’d prefer to smoke after my meal, what with only one hand being free and all.” His smile showed that he knew just that and he wasn’t really surprised at my answer.
“You said you and your crew had gone renegade last time. Care to regale me with your tales?” He took a drag and eyed me anxiously, probably hoping to trip me up.
“Where would you like me to start?” I replied around my generous helping of cinnamon flavored oats.
“When and why you left the coalition, of course,” he said as he stretched out his posture into a lazy slouch that would have looked uncomfortable on anyone else.
“Alright. Let’s see, it was about two years ago that my buddy Rommal and me were stationed in the Alpha Sector, and being fresh new Lieutenants we were itching for a fight. We were signed on to the Brigadier Eagle, a patrol ship, as Commanding Brigadier Pilot and Commanding Fighter Pilot respectively. Our ship was looking to knock off any invaders in that area, let Command know if we ran into any trouble, that sorta thing. Easy as pie and boring as hell, mostly.” I shrugged, taking another bite before continuing.
“Well, one day, not too long after we’d embarked for Sector Nine, we came across this cruise ship. It was fucking huge, but unarmed and seemed to be coasting along well away from the frontlines and any home planets under siege. Anyway, Command hailed us over a secure line and told us to attack the freighter, that it was shipping out arms and new recruits for the others. So, we did.”
“Turns out, it was full of medical supplies, along with a team of nurses and staff, all mostly made up of soldier’s wives and their children. That sorta took the shine off the military life. Long story short, we rallied us some sympathizers and got command of the ship. We headed her all over Alpha Sector, engaging any Coalition forces we found and helping where we could. Came to Turin a few months back, took a bad hit, and crashed.”
After my web of lies was spun, Darien looked at me with a peculiar expression, not quite shock nor understanding, but something indefinably in between. It made sense, the whole tale was simply a pale reflection of Darien’s own turncoat encounter that led him into his renegade habits, albeit embellished and fought in space of course.
Sadly, my meal had gone cold while I spoke and I had to be content with what little I’d consumed before, the food now too hard to chip away at.
“That’s fascinating,” he finally said before taking a very slow, prolonged drag from his cigarette. Moments later, he took my bowl and left me to my own devices.
The loss of breakfast had definitely been worth it.
The next few days passed in much the same manner, one or both of us regaling the other about our escapades and great strikes against the enemy, the other listening intently. Gradually, my meal was upgraded to include bread and a few eggs every now and again. I was always gracious about the food, knowing that it must have been difficult to procure any sort of rations out in this desolate forest of snow and pine. I always took care to never inquire too much about the state of my comrades, knowing that constant badgering could exacerbate Darien’s now drastically shortened temper.
On occasion, a maid bearing food would visit me, but my social experiences were generally restricted. I could never hear sounds from outside the tent except when Darien came and went. His visits, however, soon increased in number to exceed just those necessary to bring me food and I was glad that they did.
After what I calculated to be two weeks after my capture, he began to give me more freedom of movement after each visit until I was wholly free to travel the tent and speak with him in a more conversational manner around the squat table. Our conversations even traveled beyond stories of the past and into present campaigns. I was able to grudgingly use my skills with maps and strategy to actively participate in the planning of raids and attacks on the Riocian Parliament’s forces.
I was never allowed outside the tent though, and after a month had gone by, I was beginning to feel the itch of being cramped up for too long. Even with our growing friendship, Darien was still disinclined to favor me with a trip outside, knowing full well I would attempt escape if given even the slightest chance.
Even while I learned about Darien first hand, I continued to walk every time I slept. I had already concluded that I was doing more then just walking, but actually rifling through Savin’s memory. I was only able to perceive this showcase of dreams and desires, chaotic battles and long summer days from Savin’s point of view though, and this bothered me continuously. However my ability had decided to manifest itself, I was inexplicably grateful for it because it offered insight and guidance into dealing with the hotheaded and mischievous Darien.
One night, my surroundings were suddenly stilted and blurred. All noise had a muffled distant ringing to it and my own heart was racing. I could hear the sweep of trees passing by overhead and feel that the sticky clinging quality of my cloak was not from a dip in the lake. My whole body ached and screamed with fatigue and damage, even as I urged my mount into a quicker run, knowing she wouldn’t make it through the night. Then, I heard a lone cry from behind me and I knew that I hadn’t been walking through Savin’s memory, but instead experiencing his life firsthand.
By the time I awoke, the dream had slipped out of my grasp, the memory of it fading quickly and forgotten. All I knew was that I’d walked with him while all the details were scrubbed clean.
It wasn’t until a week had passed since the dream and since I’d asked for a chance to roam about the camp, under guard of course, that Darien arrived in such a rush and with such a string of expletives that I knew something horrible must have happened. After a solid minute, he suddenly sagged onto the bed, defeat and fatigue marring his usual grace. He seemed to crumple in on himself as he put his head in his hands, the last vestiges of rage shaking his body. I pulled up the chair, a laughing mockery of our previous gatherings, and waited for him to talk.
He finally lifted his head to look at me with red-rimmed eyes that I chose to believe hadn’t been caused by tears and simply said, “He’s back.”
Within seconds of Darien’s admission, the camp erupted in pure, unadulterated chaos.
Alexander Savin had been followed.
***
Swaths of darkness enveloped my senses. Pain radiated throughout my body, hot pinprick
s marking the bullets still lodged in my thigh and arm. My mind was unfocused and ill-used, battered from weeks of torture. Sentences and syllables frolicked along my synapses, but did not reach my lips. Instead, the word innocent closely followed by I’m sorry turned over and over in my mind uselessly. The heat of fever was on my skin and I knew I was a rattling shade of death warmed over.
“Dammit Alex, who the hell do you think you are coming back after all this. Coming back fucking half dead after all this. You betrayed me! You tucked your tail between your legs and came running when the Council called you back, begging to be at their beck and call. You used me. You made me think that you believed in what we were fighting for, that you believed we could make a difference, but it was all a lie.
“Fat chance now thanks to you and your fucking cavalry raging through my camp, murdering everyone within their sights. You backstabbing coward!” The sudden smack of pain across my cheek told me I’d been slapped.
“What, you couldn’t just be content to live it up in the fat man’s lap of luxury, you had to extinguish all traces of your past, eradicate anything that would remind you of your betrayal. I-” The voice halted abruptly before cold fingers swept across the hair away from my face, the touch fleeting and scarce.
“How could you do it? How could you do it to me? The only person in this whole gods damned world who ever gave a damn about you, you idiot. And now you’re going to die after everything, you selfish fucking bastard.”
Suddenly, a violent shake hit my body and my eyes snapped open, this time to dark green trees and a pale blue sky. “Don’t scare me like that,” a voice said, just a notch below panic as I was enveloped in a hug.
“Sappho? What the hell-“ She cut me off, placing a finger to my lips.
“Cam, I want you to stay calm and listen to me. You were beat up pretty bad during the raid. We’ve lost almost everyone either to the Renegades or the Council. Your leg is pretty bad off, but not as bad as Dumay’s, so there’s that. And that paralyzing serum is dulling the pain. But it’s still not good.”
“Plus you have a few nicks here and there,” she added, almost as an afterthought before relinquishing her grip and allowing me to sit up. I looked at my foot, expecting a bloody mass of gored flesh, but all that greeted me was a splint and a bandage. I breathed a sigh of relief only to feel a vague negative twinge throughout my stomach. Looking around, we were alone in the middle a small a clearing. I immediately forgot about the twinge as panic gripped me.
“Who’s left?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“Us, Sawolsko, Rommal, and Powers,” she said. I waited for her to continue. She didn’t.
“And?”
“That’s it.” I knew I would have staggered if I’d been standing.
“The Commander?”
“Went down fighting, just like he always said he would. Auric threw all he had into planning the escape; he even sacrificed himself to let it go through. Johnny, well, you know he wasn’t the best shot but he had guts, and courage-“ She went on and on, praising and retelling my comrades last moments. My brain simply shut down, completely overloaded by the shock. I couldn’t imagine how Sappho handled it, certain that the strain of it would have caused her to crack. But no, she was baring it well, much better then I was. Of course, she hadn’t been with them as long as I had.
I didn’t know how long she’d been talking before I felt the tugging caress of sleep pulling me away. Her voice faded into a distant but pleasant hum of incomprehensible sound as the day’s last rays of sunlight paled into a warm honey-colored glow around her.
She was absolutely beautiful.
I smiled and slept.
***
“Peterson, Peterson snap out of it!”
I bolted awake, sitting upright in a rush and causing the room to spin around me. Metallic slopes and sigils rushed past my vision at a dizzying speed, bringing me dangerously close to throwing up. “Whoa, easy there, you don’t want to over do it.” I kept still and waited for the sickness to pass.
“Co-Commander?” I couldn’t keep the waver from my voice as I saw the grizzled visage of Commander Samson beaming at me like I’d just saved the whole gods damned universe.
“Thank the gods,” he said, squeezing my shoulder tightly in relief. “We thought you were a goner there for a while, but you’re okay. You’re back with us.” When he let me go, I could finally see my surroundings, causing me to gasp in astonishment.
“Sir, where-where are we?” Not only was the whole crew there, but the unmistakable rivets of a Brigadier shone above my head.
“The Council was kind enough to finally radio Brigadier Falcon to give us a lift back to command.” I starred incomprehensively at him.
“We’re going home.”
