by C. Gockel
“You’ll like it up there, I’m sure,” she said, touched by his excitement. “I’ve lived on a skyranch or two. They try to make them interesting enough for the workers and engineers. It’s like a little town up there. And with the jumpsite so close you’ll meet some interesting people.”
The sound of harsh voices startled both of them. She peered into the gloom to see several Centauri and a few Bellac, all seemingly in good shape and not part of the medical team, walk among the injured. One of them was barking orders at the others.
“What could they want now?”
“That tall fellow is Phann Arter, one of their leaders. He came in from Camomas with his group a few days ago. Looks like they’re removing the rebels that can walk on their own. Maybe they’re leaving. Or maybe they’ve run out of fighters.”
“Air Command isn’t likely to let them leave. By now the town will be surrounded.” She scowled. “Nobody here is in any shape to fight.”
“Maybe not by your standards. But his people are fanatics.”
She stood up. “I can be pretty fanatical, too.”
“Where are you going?” he called after her when she strode into the main section of the hall and toward the bellowing Centauri. She did not reply; thinking about this would only change her mind.
“Are you in charge here?” she said to the heavily armed rogue. He was of a heftier build than was common among his towering but generally slender people, adding a frightening dimension to his surly demeanor. It took a moment for him to realize that she was addressing him.
“What?” he said, somehow making that word sound like a growl.
“I want to speak to someone who is able to do a bit more around here than point his gun at things,” she said. Djari had come around to the side and watched with an expression of sheer terror when the leader turned to face her.
“What do you have to speak about, Human?” the rebel said.
A Caspian strolled over to watch the exchange. He carried a medical scanner, apparently looking for those well enough to be removed from the clinic.
“What did Siks have to say?” the Centauri giant asked him.
“Progress,” the Caspian said, using his native language. “The place is deserted. Some flyovers but we’re not seeing any patrols on the ground. Looks like everyone is here now. Sloban’s going to hit it tonight.”
Nova managed to keep her reaction to this information to herself. A diversion? All of this? She squared her shoulders. “These people are suffering. Two more died last night. Look at this! We don’t have enough supplies to help them all. Some of them are your people.” She gestured at the thinly-furred rebel beside him. “None of the medics know how to treat Caspians. We’re running out of clean bandages and disinfectant. There isn’t enough food. The water is probably tainted. We need scanners and decon wands. We can only type Bellac and Centauri blood and there isn’t enough of that, either. By the end of the day we won’t even have enough pain meds to let them die in peace. This has to stop.”
Arter’s forehead lowered into deep grooves as he contemplated the angry woman before him. He turned to his companion. “I think that’s her. Has to be Air Command, with a lip like that on her.”
The Caspian nodded. His yellow eyes narrowed; perhaps he was worried about the information he had just slipped to his leader. “What’s your name, Human?” he asked, using his own language as before.
“Speak so I can understand you,” she said. “Centauri or mainvoice will do.”
Before she could react, he grasped her wrist to turn her forearm outward. She winced when he stabbed her with a small tool and then released her again.
“What was that for?” she said, rubbing her arm.
“Not a lot of Humans in these parts,” Arter said. “Your people are looking for an MIA soldier. Little pilot girl. Sound familiar?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. She watched the Caspian enter the sample he had taken from her into his scanner. She glared at Arter. “That’s the kind of equipment I’m talking about.”
They ignored her until the Caspian tapped the display. “Yes, that’s her.” He reached out and tugged the scarf from her head to reveal her tousled red hair before activating a small device on his chest to make a video recording of her. His leader stepped outside camera range. “Done,” the Caspian said after working with his equipment. “Sent.”
“You’re lucky Air Command wants you back, girl,” Arter said. “Seems they don’t want to talk to the likes of us until they know you’re alive. Where’s the other one?”
“Dead by this evening if you don’t listen to me and find us more to work with,” Nova said. “At least get us a scrubber so we can have clean water. Let us take the children out. Air Command will take care of them.”
The two rebels turned away.
“Dammit, I’m talking to you, Centauri!” she snapped.
The hulking rebel leader turned back, moving very slowly. His huge fist reached out to wrap around her neck. He tightened it. “We are a little busy, Human. And I’m not in the mood to be shouted at by a Union soldier. Do you get that or do I have to snap your scrawny neck?”
She did not take her eyes from his, nor did she struggle to get out of his iron grip. After a thoughtful silence, he let her go with a small shove.
When he turned away again he waved at some of his men. “Get them a scrubber and get whoever is left in this dump to find some food.” Impatiently, he snatched the scanner from the Caspian’s hands and thrust it at Nova before stomping to the exit. “None of the civilians are to leave. Get this place cleaned up!”
Nova slumped against the wall, coughing and clutching her prize to her chest. Her knees suddenly seemed awfully wobbly.
Djari came to wrap an arm around her waist to hold her up. “That is either the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen or the bravest. Or maybe a bit of both.” He pulled the computer from her hands and gave it to one of the medics who immediately hurried away with it.
“Stupidest.”
They looked up when Coria, his Bellac colleague, approached. “The last time someone annoyed them they took five of us outside. They’re still out there, unburied.” She scowled at Nova. “I told you not to play Air Command soldier around here. You’ll get us all killed.”
Nova pulled out of Djari’s loose embrace. “What I got you is a scanner and clean water. If things don’t improve soon we’ll have dysentery to deal with as well.” She turned to Djari. “Centauri have a weak spot. You can tell by the color of their eyes what’s going on, if you pay attention. You probably noticed that with Reko and some of the other Centauri here. Their eyes stop glowing when they’re sick or very tired and they can get really pale, almost gray. But when they’re upset or angry they go dark and the way they reflect light shifts. Takes a while to recognize but once you see it, it’s clear. From what I heard the same is true for Delphians except their eyes don’t glow. Never seen one close enough to check that out, though.” She glanced at Coria. “This Arter’s eyes didn’t change the whole time. He’s all bluster and that seems to be working for him.”
Djari chuckled. “I think I could learn much from you, Sunshine.”
Coria barked a short laugh.
Nova stepped closer to the woman. “You could, too,” she said, keeping her voice barely above a whisper, tightly controlled to avoid the hissing sound that could draw attention as much as a shout. “See that Bellac rebel by the far window? And the one coming this way? Their rifles aren’t charged. That means they either don’t know what they’re doing, which makes them dangerous because their side arms likely work just fine, or the Shri-Lan here are out of ammunition, which is just as interesting. Something else you should notice is that none of them are patrolling the hallway to the latrines, likely because they just don’t want to. That tells me that they’re a little short on discipline here. Also both dangerous and useful. Perhaps you could quit sniping at me and start paying a little attention to our options here. Sitting aroun
d and waiting for rescue isn’t likely to work out too well for us. So let’s damn well remember we’re on the same side!”
Coria glared at Nova for an interminable moment as if working on some sort of retort. In the end, she simply gave Djari a long, meaningful look and stalked away.
Nova sighed and shook her head. “She doesn’t get it.”
“We all cope in our own ways, Nova,” Djari said. “She’s afraid. Everyone is. She’ll come around. Hey, breakfast is served. Today’s menu is a lovely clotted rice paste with at least three pieces of dried fruit. Accompanied by a cup of hot water that has once been in the same room with a tea leaf. My treat.”
“Sounds lovely. I’ll be there in a bit.” Nova left him to hurry to the injured rebel whose bullets they had stolen yesterday evening. The woman was still dealing with her broken arm and had been left behind by her compatriots.
Nova knelt beside her pallet and checked the bruise on the woman’s face. “How’s the head,” she said softly.
The Bellac groaned. “Like someone’s hit me with a rock. Now that I think of it, that’s probably what happened.”
Nova gambled. “Arter said to get on your feet quick. I told him you’re not going anywhere with that arm. He’s got to chew on that.”
“Thanks. Not much in the mood for getting shot at right now. Damn Air Command had a convoy of grunts brought in from Rim Station. Some general’s taken over. Looks like there might be a ceasefire unless Arter gets in a mood. Which is likely.”
This news gave Nova some hope. General Ausan led Air Command operations on Bellac and was not someone who would allow a siege to go on for long. “You think Arter’s going to get desperate?”
“Don’t know him that well.”
Nova glanced around, trying to recall the name that the Caspian had used earlier. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Heard the furface say that Stoyan’s outfit going to hit tonight.”
“Good, about time. This is a lot of blood to give up for a damn prison. Pe Khoja better be worth all this. As diversions go, this is the biggest foul-up I could ever imagine.”
“Can’t imagine they’d leave a prison unguarded.”
The woman made a scoffing sound. “Moshon ridge is hardly a prison.”
“You get some rest. I’ll send something to eat.” Nova patted her shoulder, digesting this information to commit it to memory. The Moshon garrison at the ridge served as a holding area for captured rebels and local sympathizers. They were sorted, many of them let go, some turned over to Bellac authorities. If someone important was among them, perhaps unknown to Air Command, it would be the place to hit before he or she was transferred to Siolet’s far more fortified prison.
She rose and hurried to where some of the workers sat around a shared bowl of food. She tugged on Djari’s sleeve to pull him away from the others. Startled, he scooped up a plate of the rice mash and followed her to a less crowded spot.
“A private dinner,” he said. “I like that.” He handed her the plate when they had settled into their corner.
“We need to find out more about these rebels,” she said, keeping her voice low. She ate quickly to avoid tasting the meal.
“What do you mean?”
“They must have supplies, food, equipment.” She peered around him to ensure that no one was listening. A few of the guards had watched her talk with the rebel but now resumed their listless pacing along the perimeter of the hall. “I wonder if you can get some of the kids to scout around,” she said, meaning the young Bellacs that were sent outside to fetch water and burn soiled bandages and other refuse. “Some of the slum rats are pretty savvy, from what I’ve seen. I’m sure the Shri-Lan are hoarding supplies for their leaders and whoever they feel is more important than this rabble.”
He raised both eyebrows in surprise and with a hint of amusement. “You want us to steal from the rebels to help the rebels?”
She grinned. “Yeah. Though I need to get my hands on a transmitter. If they’re talking to Command about the hostages, they will have stopped jamming com traffic. I’m guessing they’re using the relays on the tether.” She tapped the small metal triangle at her temple. “I can probably use this to get into their system and from there to Command.”
“Sounds dangerous. Can I look?” He leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of her hair out of the way to study the device. Nova’s first impulse was to shrink back but there was something wonderfully pleasant about his presence. Perhaps it was this special trait that made him such a skillful healer in the almost complete absence of any real training. She held still, drawing comfort from his closeness without bothering to explore why she felt that way. It had been a long time since someone had touched her this gently.
“Amazing,” he said, so close to her ear that she felt the hair at her nape rise. “To think that this small interface can let you steer entire spaceships as you wish. It’s almost magical.” He drew away. “But then a brain is a magical thing, isn’t it?”
She exhaled a little shakily and just nodded.
“Why don’t you just use that as a transmitter? Or as a sort of homing beacon, anyway? There must be a way to track you with it.”
“There is, but using these to transmit directly is too easily tapped. We’d be spotted by rebels at once. It’s why we rarely use them wirelessly. But I can embed my ID code into a message using their transmitter and they won’t know it’s me.”
“Why are you so set on sending a message? They must know where we are. They just have to figure out a way to get us while we’re still alive.”
“I overheard some things. All of this might just be a diversion to draw local Air Command troops here.”
“Why?”
She pulled on her lower lip, thinking about that. “Just a feeling, really.” She nudged his arm. “So do you think you can find us someone to look around? Nothing more. I’m not looking to get anyone into trouble. I just need to contact Command.”
He nodded. “There’s a delinquent or two that wouldn’t mind sneaking around a bit. I think they’ve found the trick of getting around the Rhuwacs.” He nudged his plate around on the floor. “I wish there was a way to get some of these other people out of here. Your friend Reko is not going to make it much longer and that Bellac with the chest wound won’t either. They only have one lung.”
“I’m sure someone’s negotiating something. The explosions have stopped now.”
“You have a lot of confidence in your people.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Do you really think they care about a few civilians out here? For all we know, we’re the only ones left.”
“They’ll worry about the outcome of not doing anything. As long as we’re not yet allied with Bellac, the Union is going do all they can to avoid more casualties.”
He smiled sadly. “That’s it? Politics? And once Bellac has handed the planet over to you, would you walk away from these things? The rebels aren’t going to leave us alone. Will you still be here?”
“Of course we will. We’ll have a big stake in this place.”
“The jumpsite.”
“Well, yes.”
“But not the people.”
“Of course the people,” Nova said, puzzled by his response. “We have bases wherever rebels are trying to take over. We’ll keep the garrisons here on Bellac to protect you. And we’re putting a monitoring station near the jumpsite to keep rebels out of your airspace.”
“Wouldn’t be necessary, would it, if there were no rebels.”
“Now you sound like Coria.”
He shrugged. “She has a point. You’re only here because of the jumpsite. Those make it possible for your Union to expand, to travel to new places, to set up new trade. It’s commercial. It’s about wealth. And now so are the Shri-Lan.”
“If they had any sort of organization they’d set up their own trade instead of trying to steal from others. There are other competitors of the Commonwealth and things work just fine with them.�
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“They’re as tainted by rebels, criminals and pirates as your own groups are.”
She frowned. “Who have you been listening to, my poet farmer friend? That’s rebel propaganda you’re getting into now.”
“Is it?” He smiled. “And I thought I figured that all out by myself.” He shook his head. “You control the jumpsites and that makes you very powerful. It’s bound to create wars where us local poets get caught in the crossfire.”
Nova nodded. He was right. A stable jumpsite inside a solar system ensured access to other worlds otherwise inaccessible via travel through real-space. The brief leap through subspace meant trade and migration for the people using it, and wealth for those who knew how to exploit it. The Union pounced quickly to include habitable planets like Bellac into the Commonwealth as soon as they were accessible.
The Union’s military had not been an especially necessary organization until some of the locals rebelled against newly imposed rules and the changes that alien newcomers brought. Rebel groups merged into factions that slowly grew into a sizable opposition. Some, like the Shri-Lan, had members on many worlds, although lesser factions existed on almost all planets.
Over time, the powerful Shri-Lan had become an enemy force without a home planet and made up of any species that opposed Union presence. Funded through extortion, piracy and illegal trade in slaves, drugs, and weapons, they had established large territories not only on remote planets outside Union interests but also on vital worlds such as Magra and Pelion. Bellac had been in their sights when the Union finally escalated their negotiations for control of the planet.
And so pilots like Nova patrolled jumpsites and valuable installations, escorted transports, hunted down rebels, and defended settlements against enemy attacks. It had never occurred to her to question the rightness of doing any of this. The rebels were her job; their extinction her priority.
“It’s the way we have to live now,” she said. “Maybe we’ll all have peace someday.”
“At what price?” He pointed toward the untidy rows of pallets crowding the hall. “Look around, Lieutenant. Most of those people were maimed by your soldiers. Or got caught by missile strikes while trying to flee. Collateral damage is all we are.”
