by Sara King
“Just happy to see you,” Joe said, grinning, feeling like himself for the first time since stepping out of Knaaren’s den.
Nebil eyed the other recruits, then his gaze fell back to Joe. “Furgsoot. What did you charheads do?”
He found out soon enough. A frantic Battlemaster Gokli came up to them in the middle of marching drills, asking if Nebil had seen any extra cammies lying about.
“Cammies?” Nebil asked, giving the other battlemaster a quizzical look.
“Some thieves crept into the barracks last night and stole some of our gear,” Gokli said. “Just a minor inconvenience, that’s all.”
“They crept into your barracks?” Nebil asked. “You didn’t lock up?”
“They unlocked the door,” Gokli said briskly.
“To steal gear?”
“They tied up a few recruits, too,” Gokli said. “Graffitied on Congressional property… Nothing major.”
“What kind of graffiti?”
Gokli’s sudah looked like they were going to fly away. “They drew on our recruit’s faces. Indelible ink. The kind issued for marking on maps in hostile climates.”
“Really?” Nebil asked calmly. “How many recruits?”
“We think an entire platoon was involved in last night’s crimes,” Battlemaster Gokli growled.
“No,” Nebil corrected. “How many recruits were graffitied?”
The other battlemaster made a grunting sound. “If you see any spare gear lying around, let us know. Right now, we’ve got our recruits wearing defenders’ whites.”
“How horrible.”
“Yeah. Uh. You didn’t happen to notice anything strange with your recruits this morning, did you? My recruits all agree that the attackers wore their uniforms in your…unique…manner.” He nodded at Fourth Platoon’s rolled sleeves.
Battlemaster Nebil replied with a deadpan look that he had seen absolutely nothing out of usual that morning, that perhaps some other platoon was imitating them in order to get them into trouble. Then, as soon as Battlemaster Gokli left, Nebil turned on them in a fury. “You stupid self-molesting furgs! Was the whole Battalion involved or just you sootbags?!”
“Just us, Battlemaster,” Joe said.
Battlemaster Nebil’s slitty eyes homed in on Joe in an instant. “You. Zero. You sootwad. What did you do?”
“We assaulted the enemy’s barracks and detained them for questioning, sir,” Joe replied, finding it hard to keep a straight face.
Battlemaster Nebil gave him a flat look. “You what?”
“We tied them up and drew on their faces.”
“How many of them?” Nebil demanded.
“All of them, sir.” Several recruits around him snickered.
For a moment, Nebil stared at him as if he had not heard. Then, slowly, he said, “Where are their clothes?”
“Submerged in the baths in our barracks, sir,” Joe replied.
Nebil glanced at the sky. For a long time, he simply watched the reddish clouds, looking like he was counting. Then, dragging his head back down to face them, Nebil said, “You furgs better pray they’re too stupid to look there. If they don’t catch you before tonight, I want all their clothes dumped inside the chow hall and left there. If anyone sees you, I’ll skin your fire-loving hides. Until then, you earned yourselves an extra hour of free time. Get out of here.”
#
After their assault on Second Battalion, Joe began leading a nightly raid on the enemy, sparing no one. Every morning, several more platoons were found with a ‘0’ scrawled across their foreheads. As long as Joe and the others were back in their beds by wake-up, Nebil quietly ignored their nightly excursions. He even supplied them with new markers when they ran out of ink.
Joe and Sasha came to a sort of understanding after the first night. As long as Joe followed her commands during the hunts, she kept her mouth shut and sometimes even went with him on the night raids. The other members of Joe’s ground team—notably Libby and Monk—refused to speak with him on these occasions, of the opinion that they should leave her behind, but Joe was determined to mend the rift between them and let Sasha come anyway.
Joe was having more fun than he’d ever had in his life, and for the first time, he felt like he really had a purpose. For their part, Fourth Platoon followed him religiously on the raids. Even during the daytime, battlemasters from other platoons asked his advice on the deep den hunts. And, for the first time since coming to Kophat, Joe felt like he really had a purpose in life.
To lead.
He was good at it. The way the kids followed him made Joe’s chest swell with pride. Each night he took them on a raid, he fantasized about leading them into the deepest, darkest Dhasha tunnels to root out a rebel prince and win the war. Even the thought of small spaces didn’t quell his fantasies.
For the first time, Joe realized he wanted to be a soldier. He wanted to lead a squad on some rebel planet. He wanted to secure the win that turned the tide of a battle.
He wanted to be a hero.
CHAPTER 30: Elf’s Release
Tril stifled a chuckle at seeing Lagrah’s assistant. The girl had apparently been sleeping in the barracks when Nebil’s platoon had struck. A fading ‘0’ stood out on her forehead in a childish scrawl.
Lagrah’s recruit turned beet red under Tril’s stare, though she continued to hold her message out for Tril to accept. As expected, it was another invitation to a hunt. Lagrah’s pride had been wounded and only blood would ease his fury.
Excellent.
Tril nodded at the recruit battlemaster, who hurried from the room.
“It’s burning hard to miss, isn’t it?” Commander Linin asked. “Who do you think is leading them?”
“Zero,” Tril said reluctantly.
“Thought so. Everywhere the Fourth goes, heads burning turn,” Commander Linin said, nodding. “It’s like every other battalion out there turns into Takki pussies when they go by. They stand out like a Jreet hit squad.”
Tril felt his sudah flutter excitedly. “Really?”
Commander Linin grunted the affirmative. “Makes me burning proud to see it, I tell you.”
As Tril watched the recruit battlemaster hurry away, an idea began to form…
#
Joe was resting against a glistening black wall, enjoying one of the first moments of true free time he’d had since the hunts with Second Battalion started. He had finished his task of unloading a haauk laden with prepackaged scum soup and was now taking the moment to close his eyes and give his aching body a break.
That morning, Commander Tril had made the announcement that all of Sixth Battalion was now required to roll up their sleeves. Fourth Platoon, Joe included, believed they had earned the sleeves, not the rest of the battalion. The complaining that followed had gotten them neck-deep in extra chores, with no end in sight.
Further, Tril’s stepped-up training had been taking its toll. Even with the green slime Congress was feeding them, Joe was now feeling a constant, underlying exhaustion in everything that he did. He had even been forced to cut back on the number of nightly raids in favor of more sleep.
Everyone in Sixth was near the end of their resources, even the battlemasters. Joe didn’t know how much more training they could take.
Joe was in the middle of a blissful, impromptu nap when he heard Elf’s whisper.
Joe lunged up, glancing around to see if anyone had caught him sleeping.
“Joe.” Elf crouched under a stone staircase, his scarred face twisted and almost unrecognizable in the shadows. An Ooreiki rash spread over half his head from someone’s rough handling. His sturdy Congie shirt was ripped at the neckline and he was bleeding from several cuts along his jaw and cheek.
It was Elf’s fear that caught Joe’s attention. He was afraid for his life—Joe recognized the look from his time with Knaaren. Elf was disheveled, insanity shining in his eyes. He was a totally different person than Joe had seen earlier that morning, when Sasha sent him and Maggie
off to rake gravel somewhere deeper in the city.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, getting to his feet.
Elf licked his lips. His eyes darted to the side, then he said, “You remember how you said you’d take me home if I got you a ship?”
Joe stared, uncomprehending. “What?”
“A ship,” Elf said. “You told me to get a ship.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe asked. “Did you leave Maggie alone?”
“I found one,” Elf said.
“Elf, why aren’t you with—”
“I killed her,” Elf interrupted.
Joe felt a stab of dread. “What?”
“I killed her. She had this egg sac on her back. Like a burning spider. I could see them wiggling around in there, trying to get out.” Elf’s eyes were wild, pleading with Joe to understand. “I saw them and I snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. You know what the Takki did to you. They’re all aliens, Joe. Aliens. Congress doesn’t need any more of them. We’re the good ones, Joe. Not them. They don’t deserve to live.”
Slowly, Joe said, “Elf, did you just say you killed Maggie?”
Elf’s wild-eyed look grew frustrated. “No, the pilot. I killed her and the guard outside. Rammed my knife in her neck and crushed all her maggots with my rake. Now we can all go home.”
Joe stared, aghast. “You killed an Ooreiki?”
“Lots and lots of them,” Elf said, bobbing his head up and down happily. “Now we can all go home, just like you said, Joe. We’ve got a ship.”
“A ship? What are you burning talking about?”
“Back when we first met. You said you’d take me home if I got you a ship.”
Joe did not know what to say. He opened his mouth several times but couldn’t find the right words, knowing he was talking to a dead man. Finally, “I don’t know how to fly a ship, Elf. None of us do. You know that.”
Elf nodded, smiling
“Elf,” Joe said sharply, “Get out of here. Go hide in the woods. Okay? I’ll see if I can find Yuil. Maybe she can help you.”
Elf’s eyes darkened. “No.”
“Elf…” Joe started, moving toward him.
“No,” Elf said, backing out of reach. “I’m going on the ship. I need you to fly it for me like you said you would.”
Joe stared at Elf in helplessness, wondering how much sanity remained behind his feral eyes. Slowly, he said, “I can’t fly a ship, Elf. Only the aliens know how to fly the ships.”
Elf jerked, his expression turning to disbelief. “But you said—”
“I never meant it,” Joe snapped, desperation and fear pushing him over the edge. “I never thought you’d actually try. Elf, you’ve gotta hide.”
Elf suddenly sprang from the shadows, his torn lip quivering. “You were supposed to take care of us!”
Joe glanced around them to see if anyone had heard. “Elf, listen. Let me take you to the edge of the city. You can hide in the woods…”
“No! Help me, Joe,” Elf shouted. “You said you would fly the ship if I found one for you. Now I found one and they’re gonna catch me if we don’t leave right now! We have to go!” Elf reached out to grab his arm. “Maggie ran off, but you can still come.”
“You’re crazy!” Joe shouted. “I can’t help you!”
“Please get me off this planet, Joe,” Elf said. The insanity in his eyes was replaced with a shot of fear. “They’re gonna kill me.”
“You need to hide, Elf.” Joe felt a burning in his chest. “I can’t fly a ship.”
Elf stared at the ground. “I know.” The whisper was almost too faint to make out. “I knew it when I killed them. I just couldn’t stop. I thought…” He looked up, his hazel eyes bloodshot. “I thought maybe you could help me, Joe.”
“I can’t,” Joe said. “I never could.”
“Yeah,” Elf said softly. He wiped tears from his eyes. “I learned that when Lord Knaaren took me away. Nobody tried to help me. Everyone was too afraid.” He hesitated. “I don’t know why I killed them. I just…” His voice cracked and he glanced at the ground. “I’ll go now. I don’t want to get you in trouble, too.” He turned.
“Elf.”
His groundmate turned, his hopeful expression that of a little boy’s.
“Let me help you hide, Elf.”
His friend’s face collapsed and he nodded.
It wasn’t until he’d left Elf inside the abandoned building at the edge of the city that Joe realized he was shaking. He had no idea how to find Yuil.
#
Elf did not return with Maggie that evening and Sasha was punished for it. She, in turn, blamed Joe and gave him pushups, which he did quietly and without complaint.
Joe did not sleep that night. After he had helped Elf hide at the edge of Alishai, he had spent the night hours wandering outside the barracks, doing everything he could think of to catch Yuil’s attention. Yuil had never showed.
The next morning, instead of going to the hunt that was scheduled that morning, Battlemaster Nebil told them to leave their guns behind.
“Chins! Form them up outside and march them to the plaza. Prime Commander Knaaren will be there in an hour to inspect you. He’s ordered all Ooreiki to stay behind, so pray to your heathen Human gods that you don’t catch his attention.” He said the last looking at Joe.
Monk tugged on Joe’s shirt, her face fearful. “You think Elf—”
“Fourth Platoon!” Sasha interrupted, scowling at Monk. “Get down the stairs, you ignorant furgs!”
As Sasha marched them to the plaza, awful scenarios played through Joe’s mind. Any human on the planet was either a slave or a recruit, and either one would be punished for hiding. Still, Joe had given Elf the akarit, and as long as he kept his head down, he should be able to survive until Joe could find Yuil.
Second Battalion was already waiting, looking crisp and professional—as long as one didn’t pay too much attention to the fading 0’s scrawled across their foreheads. Sasha brought Fourth Platoon into Sixth Battalion’s place several yards down the plaza and made a show of making sure none of her charges had untucked shirts or poor stances. Then she fell back into her spot at the head of the platoon and they waited as the rest of Sixth Battalion arrived, their sleeves crisply rolled. Bannerless, with their sleeves rolled, Sixth Battalion stood out sharply amongst the others, giving the impression they didn’t follow the rules. Joe caught several recruits from other battalions staring at them as they formed up.
Lord Knaaren appeared much later than he had scheduled. He trotted out in front of the battalions almost two hours past due, his talons throwing diamond gravel into the air. He held a slim black Congie rope between his teeth, dragging something big in his wake.
It took Joe a moment to realize the bundle at the end of the rope was Elf.
Lord Knaaren dropped the rope. Two Takki lifted Elf to his feet. His whole body was covered in welts and scabs, and he had lost his ear and most of his left cheek to alien claws. Both eyes were masses of puffy, bruised flesh, his fingers dark from where the ropes around his wrists had cut off the circulation. Joe suddenly found it hard to breathe.
“I knew the taint stretched beyond Kihgl,” Knaaren said. “This Human scum killed a pregnant Ooreiki on her way to Poen to give birth, then stayed out of sight using an extremely rare, highly illegal device while we searched for him. Then, despite carrying an akarit of the highest caliber, he was stupid enough to leave it behind when he went searching for food and water. The Kophati government wants him for murdering the yeeri. The Peacemakers want him because of the akarit. But none of that interests me. He is my recruit. They can take their weak, toothless threats and feed them to my Takki. The boy will not be punished.”
He’s letting him go? Joe felt a brief pang of hope.
Knaaren’s rainbow lips peeled away from triangular black teeth as he surveyed Sixth Battalion. “All of you will be punished. After you watch him die, the entire regiment will receive the Black Pain of the Sixth Degr
ee…unless one of you comes forward and tells me something that makes sense. Why did this recruit kill the yeeri? Where did he get the akarit?”
Joe’s hope became despair as the Dhasha’s emerald gaze swept over the regiment.
“Release him,” Knaaren said.
The Takki moved away from Elf, who swayed on his feet without the support. Knaaren moved up to him and gazed down at him with cold emerald eyes. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”
“I just wanted a ship,” Elf whimpered. His eyelids were sunken into his skull, despite the bruised puffiness of his face.
Seeing that, bile surged in Joe’s throat. They had cut out his eyes.
Knaaren cuffed Elf. It was a light blow, but Knaaren’s black talons cleaved through the flesh of Elf’s shoulder and his left arm fell to the diamond gravel, clinging to his other wrist by the length of rope still binding them together. Elf’s mouth formed an O and he stood there for a moment, as if unaware of what had happened. Then he screamed and slapped his hand over his shoulder while shying away from the heavy limb dangling from his wrist. The damage was too much. No sooner had Elf tried to save himself than his skin began turning a deathly pale. He slid to the ground, still gripping his bleeding stump between rigid white fingers.
“Fix it,” Knaaren said.
A Takki rushed forward and jammed a needle of the silver stuff into Elf’s chest. Almost immediately, the bleeding stopped. Elf lay on the ground, panting.
“Just…wanted…ship. Just a ship.”
“I want to know who else is involved in this conspiracy,” Knaaren said. “You could not have gotten an akarit on your own. You do not have the resources to pay for one, let alone the connections to find such an item. Who gave it to you?”
Elf tried to stand, but Knaaren stepped on him, razor claws sinking into Elf’s chest like it was warm butter. “Answer me,” Knaaren said. “Who helped you?!”
“No one,” Elf whimpered, his uplifted arm dwarfed by Knaaren’s massive leg.
Almost delicately, Lord Knaaren bit off his remaining hand.