by Wayne Basta
Ignoring looks from the other people in the room, Zeric pulled a flask out of his pocket and poured the contents into his empty mug. The local moonshine tasted terrible, and it was still early in the day, but he needed something to clear his head. All this boring talk just left him plenty of time to think about Gu’od. He had to bury those thoughts somehow.
The Camari from Cardine had sat back down while Zeric poured his drink, and Lahkaba had stood up. Zeric tried to make himself pay closer attention. He liked Lahkaba, and, unlike the other politicians, he didn’t drone on pointlessly. Not as much, anyway.
“Negotiations with the Confederacy went well. They’ve agreed to dispatch a fleet to assist us against the Alliance,” Lahkaba said, though the frown on his face appeared counter to the positive nature of his words. “Let me introduce Lieutenant Commander Bryel Prytoker, our liaison officer from the Confederate fleet. He’ll brief you on their intentions.”
A blue-scaled Dotran stood up. “Thank you, Delegate Lahkaba. General Dustlighter, Commodore Ocaitchi, it’s an honor to be able to fight alongside you in the name of freedom.”
Bryel nodded his head to Zeric and Saracasi. Zeric lifted his mug in response, suppressing a laugh. Now he would be fighting alongside his old enemy. How many Dotrans had he killed during the last war? He couldn’t remember.
“Our fleet, under Grand Admiral Makvelli, intends to launch a surprise offensive against the Alliance stronghold on Ailleroc. He believes that hitting the Alliance at their strongest point before they’ve had time to prepare for the Confederate’s involvement will allow him to take—liberate—the planet. That will cut off Admiral Sartori’s main source of supplies and support,” Bryel said.
“When and where will we need to rendezvous with his fleet?” Saracasi asked.
“You won’t,” Bryel said. “As per our agreement, Grand Admiral Makvelli has final command of all naval forces. He’s instructed your fleet to maintain your minor harassment tactics.”
“Minor harassment tactics?” Saracasi said, her tone defensive. “We’ve pushed the Alliance fleet from orbit of four worlds, defeating three separate task forces.”
“My apologies,” Bryel said. “I meant no disrespect. I merely meant to convey the admiral’s wishes that you continue your present tactics of avoiding major engagements at Sulas or Ailleroc so as to keep the Alliance off balance and not expecting an attack.”
Not waiting for a reply from Saracasi, Bryel turned to face Zeric. “However, General Dustlighter, Grand Admiral Makvelli wants you—would like to request—that your forces on Sulas increase their operational tempo so as to cause a distraction for the Alliance leading up to our assault. It would be good if their attention were focused on Sulas.”
The request caught Zeric’s full attention. He had only been half-listening before, ignoring most of the naval squabbles.
There were many things Zeric had neglected in his life. Most had come at a great cost to others, such as Gu’od. Sulas was one of those areas he had abandoned. But there was still time to correct that mistake. He could still see Sulas freed and those trapped troops allowed to return to their homes alive. He wouldn’t neglect his responsibility there anymore. “I’ll make sure Sulas is plenty distracting for the Alliance, Commander. I’ll be returning there to oversee the operation personally,” Zeric decided.
Everyone at the table turned to him, clearly surprised by his declaration. Lei-mey, of course, was the first to speak. “General, you’re needed here to oversee the rest of the sector. It wouldn’t be prudent for you to return to behind enemy lines.”
“I’ll be the one to decide where I’m needed,” Zeric snapped, anger at the politician flaring up in him.
Lei-mey returned his dark look. Zeric waited a long moment for her to argue with him, but this was a military briefing, and she was just an advisor here.
He smiled when she said no more, but he decided to moderate his tone. “The guerilla campaign waged by General Kil’dare has gone on long enough. The Alliance should be lulled into a false sense of security by now. It’s time for me to return and oversee the liberation of the planet.”
And that way I don’t need to face Gamaly. It would give the Alliance plenty of opportunity to kill him before she did.
After the military briefing ended, everyone tried to speak to Zeric. To avoid getting sucked into any one of a thousand different discussions—especially having to listen to Lei-mey try to stop him—Zeric bolted from the meeting room the instant he could. Now that he had made his decision about what to do, he needed to act on it quickly.
It took him a while, but he finally tracked down Fracsid and Sienn’lyn. He was fortunate that both were planet-side. Having to wait for Sienn’lyn to shuttle down would have taken hours.
“Fracsid, I need you to make Cutty Sark ready for my immediate departure. Sienn, I’m going to need you to fly me. You’re the only one who’s done an atmospheric insertion before,” Zeric said once he had gathered them together.
“Sir,” Fracsid said nervously, “I can’t just send the ship to Sulas indefinitely. She’s needed with the fleet.”
“She’s needed for this mission more, Major,” Zeric growled, his tone uncharacteristically sharp. “Don’t question me again.”
“Zeric,” Lahkaba said, appearing from nowhere, causing Zeric to jump.
Everyone turned to look at the Kowwok delegate, who said, “I take it you’re not wasting any time going to Sulas?”
“Don’t try to stop me, Lah,” Zeric said forcefully. “I don’t want to be lectured. Not even by you.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Lahkaba said, putting his hands up to show surrender. “I actually want to go with you.”
Zeric gave him a cautious look. What game was he playing? He trusted Lahkaba, but he was still a politician. On the other hand, Lahkaba was from Sulas, so he had every reason to want to go back there. After a moment, Zeric nodded.
“All right, you can come, but you better be ready to go, because we’re leaving now,” Zeric said. He turned back to Fracsid. “All right, Major. Let’s go.”
With a shrug and a curious glance at Sienn’lyn, Fracsid led the group toward the city’s landing field. Most of the wreckage from the destroyed troop transports had been cleared away, though the burned husk of the vessel hadn’t been moved far. The sight of it as they approached the field reinforced Zeric’s desire to get off this moon.
When they came within sight of the Cutty Sark, Zeric suddenly stopped and let out a curse. Ahead of them were Saracasi, Lei-mey, Kumus, and Gamaly, standing at the bottom of the ship’s ramp. He had been so close to getting off Irod without having to confront either of them. To make matters worse, in Gamaly’s arms was a bundle that looked distinctly like a baby.
He could just run. They were still several meters away. Gamaly wouldn’t be able to catch him—not while carrying her baby. And Saracasi wasn’t a good runner at all. He could run now, find another ship to commandeer, and get off Irod before they caught up to him.
But before he could do anything, Lahkaba waved and shouted, “Gamaly! Is that your baby there? I’m glad I’ll get to see him before leaving. I’m sure Zeric is, as well.”
The big white Kowwok drew everyone’s attention to their group, and Zeric knew he’d lost his chance to run. Reluctantly, he finished walking the short distance to the ship. At the last second, he decided he had one final thing to try: pulling rank.
“Lieutenant I’fu, get aboard and start pre-launch. Major Relis, clear your crew off. Commodore Ocaitchi, I’m departing for Sulas immediately. I need you to move these people away from the ship,” Zeric said, trying to sound authoritative.
He continued to move forward, increasing his speed. Saracasi immediately started to raise an objection, but he just ignored her. Ignoring his problems had worked before.
But before he made it fully up the ramp, the baby made a small cry, and then Gamaly asked, her voice quiet, “Zeric, where’s Gu’od?”
The simple question, and the pleading tone
that said she knew what he would say—didn’t want to hear it, but had to—brought him up short. He didn’t want to have to tell her. He wasn’t sure he could really say those words out loud. But, in the end, she was his friend, too.
Stopping midway up the ramp, Zeric slumped his shoulders. Without looking back, he managed to say, “He’s… he’s dead.”
He braced himself for what would come next. Either Gamaly would break down crying, which he knew he wouldn’t be able to bear, or she would decide to take her revenge on him immediately. He preferred the second option.
Instead, he heard nothing for a long moment. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him, and he turned around. Tears were running down Gamaly’s face, though she was remarkably composed. In her arms, she squeezed the bundled form of her baby tight across her chest.
“How did it happen?” she finally asked.
“He died in the battle against the Alliance forces invading Lost Hope. He died doing what I should have been doing. He died because of me,” Zeric said, tears welling in his own eyes.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Lei-mey said, her usual brusque tone ruining the solemnity of the moment. “Gu’od died a hero. He died saving Zeric’s daughter while Zeric oversaw the defense of the entire city. The effective defense of the city, which saved tens of thousands of lives, I might add.”
Gamaly gave Zeric an astonished look, replacing her sad gaze for a moment. “Is that true? You have a daughter?”
Zeric nodded. “Apparently Ceta got pregnant when we, ah, reunited after the Olan prison break.”
“And she’s here? Gu’od saved her?” Gamaly asked.
“The Alliance forces were moving in through the section of the city where she and Ceta live. Gu’od went in my place to get them out. Gamaly, I’m so sorry. I never should have let him go. He died because of me,” Zeric said, feeling his throat constrict as his own tone turned pleading.
To his surprise, Gamaly let out a sad laugh. “You’re not wrong. But it’s not your fault. Stopping Gu’od from saving your child would have taken more than an entire Alliance army. That’s just who he is… was.”
Gamaly’s words caught on the last word and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She closed her eyes for a moment before speaking again. “He never would have told you this, but I stopped being his sole Focus a long time ago. He had originally left his Ni’jar Conclave because he thought his mission in life was to protect me and redeem me from my life of crime. I straightened him out from those foolish notions early on. But he stayed because he loved me.
“Eventually, Gu’od expanded his Focus beyond just me. He decided that his role in the Balance was the preservation and betterment of life for his family. And he included you in that family. We joined this rebellion because he felt it was your calling, and he wanted to help you follow it.
“But he died doing what he felt he existed for: protecting your child so that you could protect others, including me and his child. I’m sad that he’s gone, and part of me wants to beat you until you can’t get up. But I know, in the end, he died because of who he was, and that’s why I loved him.”
Zeric felt tears running freely down his cheeks now. He realized he hadn’t cried since learning of Gu’od’s death. It felt good, despite the pain it brought. He didn’t even care that he was surrounded by others. Looking around, he realized that many of them looked just as sad as he felt.
Gu’od had been important to a lot of people, he realized. Saracasi and Lahkaba had been with him since this whole rebellion had started. Sienn’lyn had become his student. Zeric had been about to use her to escape Irod and hadn’t even considered telling her what had happened.
“I’m sorry. To all of you,” Zeric said. “I’ll stay here and not go to Sulas.”
To his amazement, Gamaly gave him a harsh look. “Why would you stay here?”
Zeric blinked at her in response, but Lei-mey jumped in. “Because that’s where he’s needed.”
Ignoring the Ronid delegate, Gamaly looked at Zeric. “Were you going to Sulas to avoid facing me or because it was the best strategy?”
He almost answered that it was just to hide from her, but he stopped himself. Going to Sulas now would have been the best way to avoid facing Gamaly, but that wasn’t the only reason to go back. He still felt responsible for the troops he had left behind there. And what army the Union still had—that was not trapped on Sulas—had been decimated by the recent attack.
“Both,” Zeric finally answered.
“I thought so. No, you should still go,” Gamaly said, her tone decisive
Zeric blinked at her comment. That hadn’t been what he had expected her to say.
In response to his expression, she added, “Gu’od would want you to keep fighting. That’s the only way to ensure a safe future for his child. And yours.”
Nodding slowly, Zeric said, “I’ll make sure they both have a shot at that future.” He turned to Sienn’lyn. “I’m sorry to you, too. I should have told you about Gu’od. I won’t order you to come on this mission.”
For a moment, Sienn’lyn stared at him, her face strained. He guessed that she was trying to maintain a look of emotional detachment, much like Gu’od would have, but her expression had none of confident wisdom Gu’od’s always had.
Finally, she shook her head. “I’ll do it for Master Dos’redna. He said you did many things well, but that taking responsibility wasn’t one of them. But you appear to be trying to correct that, in your own twisted way.”
Zeric stifled a frown. He didn’t know Sienn’lyn very well, so he found it annoying for her to point out one of his faults like that. Gu’od could have gotten away with that, but he never would have said it quite so bluntly. He let Gamaly do that for him.
She continued, “And I’ve also seen you fly. I won’t be responsible for the leader of our military being killed by crashing into a planet.”
On second thought, Zeric thought, maybe she had learned more from Gu’od than he had thought. Either way, he was glad to have a pilot to get him to Sulas. He didn’t much like the idea of dying by crashing into a planet.
He cast another glance at Gamaly. “When I come back, this war will be over. And I’ll be there to help you with the baby. You won’t have to do this alone.”
A slight flush of emotion crossed Gamaly’s face, and she gave him a small nod and then pulled the baby closer to her cheek.
Ignoring Lei-mey’s protests, Zeric turned and headed up the Cutty Sark’s boarding ramp, calling behind him, “You’re in charge now, Casi. Sorry. All right, Lah, if you’re coming, get onboard.”
Lahkaba started up the boarding ramp, but Lei-mey, apparently intent on stopping someone, grabbed his arm. “You’re needed here as well.”
The white furred Kowwok glared back at her. “The only thing I’ve done here is get us in bed with the Dotran. I think I’ve done enough good here.”
“What do you hope to do on Sulas?” Lei-mey asked. “You were a soldier once, but you’re a politician now. That’s where your skills lay.”
“Then I’ll use those skills. I plan to negotiate the release of Maarkean and Lohcja,” Lahkaba said, surprising Zeric.
He cast a glance at Saracasi. They had discussed several options for rescuing Maarkean before departing Sulas a few months ago. Each one ended with getting everyone involved captured or killed. “Lah,” Zeric said, “I want to see them free as much as you do. But the Alliance is not just going to let them go.”
“I don’t expect they will,” Lahkaba conceded. “But I can offer myself up in their place. A political leader is a more valuable hostage.”
Zeric frowned. He didn’t think he agreed with his friend’s assessment. If Lahkaba tried to negotiate that way, they would just take him prisoner. He had to know that. Something about this plan didn’t make any sense to him.
Before he could say anything more, Saracasi chimed in, a grim smile appearing on her face. “Lah, I think I might have a more valuable bargaining chip.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Well, well. I do love a woman in uniform.”
The smooth, self-confident sound of Josserand Renard’s voice made Saracasi inadvertently cringe. Every other time she had met the crime boss, he had made some kind of lewd comment to her. It had always bothered Maarkean more than her, but with him absent, she felt the annoyance for the both of them.
“Good to see you again, Joss. Please have a seat,” she forced herself to say politely.
Josserand strolled confidently into the ready room of Defiant Glory. Solyss Novastar, Asheerah Aru, and a marine guard followed him inside. All except the two marines took seats in the front row of briefing chairs. She remained standing beside the holoprojector with Davidus.
She had to forcibly remind herself that Josserand didn’t have any power over her now. Before, she and her brother had been reliant on Josserand for work just to keep themselves fed, but now, he was at her mercy. She had the power to make the sniveling scoundrel just disappear, or leave him locked in the brig on any ship in the fleet.
Pushing aside those brief fantasies, she said, “Major Novastar tells me you’ve agreed to help us gain control of the Black Market. Let’s talk about how you’re going to make that happen.”
“We have a preliminary agreement in place,” Josserand said. “The final details need to be ironed out.”
“We’ll get to those. First tell me how you can gain control of the ship,” Saracasi said, making her tone firm.
Josserand studied her for a moment. She suspected he was deciding how far he wanted to push his position this early in the negotiation. He must have decided that he would benefit from showing what he was worth first, because he said, “During my time aboard, I was able to implant several computer programs. These will allow me to access key portions of the ship. In addition, I have several contacts onboard to ensure a quick transition of power.”
“We’re going to need those codes,” Saracasi said.
Josserand gave her a wide, slick smile. “Of course.”
Saracasi frowned. Anytime Josserand agreed to anything, you had to ask yourself exactly how you were being screwed. Not wanting to play any of his games, she asked, “All right, what’s the catch?”
