by Caleb Fast
“Agreed,” Clive says in a near whisper as he lays himself down onto the floor, his legs still dangling out into the open air.
“So, what was that with all the plant trivia?” Trix asks leaning back and propping her chin on her palm as she faces Clive.
“I always had this dream of starting my own farm,” Clive admits, “Ever since my dad took me on one of his trips to an agricultural planet.”
“Oh?” Trix asks, surprised that Clive had wanted to live a simple life like that, she had figured she was the only person who dreamed of having a farm in this day and age.
“Clive! We have a situation!” Someone calls from the other side of the hangar.
“What?” Clive moans after letting out a dissatisfied sigh.
“Jenniston’s making her move,” The man calls back.
“Already?” Clive demands as he scrambles to his feet.
“Yes, sir,” The man replies.
Trix rakes her mind trying to remember who the man was. He was at the meeting… she thinks, And he had some strange name, it was a number or something… 3? No, wait, it was T! From what Trix had heard about this T, she had gathered that he was a dear friend of Clive’s who had saved his life on several occasions.
“How bad does it look?” Clive asks as he starts toward the man, leaving Trix without so much as a goodbye.
“Well, I—” T starts.
“Wait,” Clive says, cutting him off. Spinning around, Clive returns to Trix.
“What?” Trix asks, trying to hide the immense excitement that is coursing through her veins.
“I’ve got something for you,” Clive replies, clearly distracted. From what Trix could tell, Clive hadn’t wanted to give her what he was about to hand over under these circumstances, but he was going to anyways.
“What is it?” Trix inquires, her interest piqued.
Clive wordlessly slips a small box out of the backpack he had with him, and he hands it to Trix before he says, “I’m sorry I have to go, I hope we can pick up where we left off,”
Without waiting for a response, Clive races off. Trix lets out a long breath as she contemplates a hundred or so ways that she could take her revenge on T for taking Clive from her and ruining their moment. After several beats, she stops herself, realizing how foolish the thought was. Watching as Clive finally disappears down the stairs into the lower hangar, Trix bites her lip in concern. She had tried to quit biting her lip a few years ago after she had bit it open, but she truly couldn’t help herself. The habit was as much as her as was her heart, to lose it would be to lose a part of herself.
Eventually, Trix looks down to the box that she had partially crushed while her mind had wandered. Examining the box, Trix sees her name printed on each side, and she curiously begins to peel the lid off of the box, unsure of what may be inside.
“Is Clive already giving you presents?” Srin asks teasingly.
Startled, Trix’s head snaps up and she sees Srin, who is leaning against a nearby box, watching Trix.
“What? I—uh, no, it’s—uh,” Trix stammers before resolving to just shut her mouth until she could actually formulate a thought.
“At least he’s forward,” Srin declares, “That’s a point for him in my book.”
Trix remains silent, and stares blankly at Srin, hoping she would simply let her be for a few moments. Trix wasn’t sure if she wanted the world to know whatever it was that was in this box. Seeing that Srin wasn’t catching on, Trix turns her attention back to Clive’s ‘gift’ as Srin called it.
“Looks like the boxes the guards put our stuff into,” Srin observes, “At least, those of us who are sent straight here.”
“Oh?” Trix asks excitedly as she remembers some of the things she thought she had lost forever.
“Yeah, that’s one of them for sure,” Srin announces as she stoops next to Trix for a closer look. After a moment she asks, “Are you going to open it, or not?”
“I—uh,” Trix whispers as she wonders why she couldn’t move her hands. She was so excited to regain part of her past, but she wasn’t willing to open the box, and risk finding nothing inside. Biting her lip again, Trix asks, “Could you?”
“Of course,” Srin smiles knowingly. She gently takes the box from Trix’s hands and pauses long enough to pry it loose from Trix’s steely grip. After a brief effort, Trix releases her grip, still unsure as to why she was frozen with trepidation. Srin eyes Trix for a moment, as if she was searching for a reason for Trix’s hesitation. Seeing no objections to her continuing, Srin rips the top off the box and peers in.
“What do you see?” Trix asks after swallowing a lump in her throat.
“A lot of clothes and gear,” Srin replies as she rummages through the box.
“Is that it?” Trix whimpers, saddened.
“Looks like it—” Srin stops herself as she finds something of interest in the box. Pulling it out, she continues, “Well, there’s this—"
Instead of replying, Trix lets out a squeal of joy and leaps toward Srin ripping the item out of her hand. Literally jumping in excitement, Trix finally exclaims, “I thought I lost this forever!”
“What’s so exciting about an old wood ring?” Srin asks with a quizzical look on her face.
“It was a gift from the people of my home planet,” Trix offers after composing herself.
“I see they spared no expense,” Srin jokes sarcastically as she continues rifling through Trix’s belongings.
Ignoring Srin’s joke, Trix hugs the ring to her heart for several moments. She relishes the joy of being reunited with the ring which signified the people she had risked her life for on countless occasions. The ring wasn’t a treasure to her because of its value, it was a treasure because it reminded her of her reason for being, and she doubted Srin would ever appreciate that.
“Ready?” Trix hears someone shout from behind her.
“Give her a whirl!” Another replies.
After a moment, Trix hears a nearby hovercraft roar to life. She turns in time to see a black cloud rushing toward her and Srin, who were unfortunately downwind of the latest resurrected piece of machinery.
“Here,” Srin says to Trix as she shoves her box into Trix’s arms, “Let’s get out of her,”
“Thanks,” Trix nods as she follows Srin away from the cloud’s collision course with them. Unfortunately, Trix hadn’t moved quick enough, and she finds herself covered with soot that the nearest hovercraft had belched out. She squints against the acrid smoke and holds her breath as she continues on blindly.
“You look like a mess,” Srin laughs once Trix emerges from the dense smog.
Trix rubs the soot from her eyes before looking down to inspect how dirty she was. Sure enough, she was covered from head to toe with charcoal. After a cough, Trix mutters, “Guess I’ll have to change,”
“I’d say you need a shower too,” Srin cackles.
“No time,” Trix replies as she makes her way toward an old staging room which was adjacent to the hangar. If she was lucky, Trix hoped that she would find a restroom she could clean herself up in.
“Right,” Srin nods, “I had best get back to it as well.”
Trix races the rest of the way to the staging room, and sighs with relief when she finds what appears to be a locker room. Once alone, Trix quickly sheds her dingy prison uniform, and dresses herself in her old outfit. She walks over to a nearby mirror, which extends the whole wall above the sinks. Wiping a large patch of grime away with her sleeve, Trix eyes her reflection. Truth be told, she hardly recognized herself, thanks to all of the soot. She reaches down to turn on the faucet, which eventually surrenders and opens, despite being nearly rusted in place. Trix waits several moments as brownish mud sputters out and splashes into the wash basin before cupping some into her hands and splashing her face. After a while, Trix looks back up to the mirror and sizes herself up once again.
“I look about as bad as I feel,” Trix mutters to herself as she stretches and cracks her neck. She then takes a quick
inventory of her outfit, hoping her gear was still all accounted for. Got my favorite sidearm still, Trix smiles as she pats the weapon in its holster. She checks her various pockets and finds a few explosives in addition to her more delicate tools. She stops and looks back into the mirror as she admires her old Resistance uniform.
Trix had insisted on the drab dark green color for everyone because of how easy it was to hide in. Be it a dingy back alley or the forests back home, the color permitted the maximum stealth. The tailors they had tasked with clothing everyone were displeased with the choice, but they made the most of it. Two rows of dark steel buttons make their way down from the shirt’s collar to a pair of charcoal fatigues. One each shoulder is a braided strand of paracord which came in handy on many missions. Two leather utility belts crisscross Trix’s hips, both laden in gear, and a dark pair of leather boots complete the look.
“Knock knock,” Trix hears someone call from the door of the locker room she was in.
“Yes?” Trix inquires as she tears herself away from her reflection. She had never been one to be vain, but she couldn’t help but be captivated with her appearance after not seeing herself for so long.
“Clive asked me to check in on you,” The woman replies as she steps into the room. Trix eyes the woman for a moment before she continues, “Oh, I’m Audaz,”
“Nice to meet you,” Trix smiles before looking back into her box and rummaging through the final few objects. As she does so, she recalls seeing Audaz at the meeting a few hours ago.
“Where’d you get the outfit?” Audaz asks, “I love it,”
Trix looks down to her outfit for a moment before answering, “It was my people’s uniform back home,”
“It looks like you were well equipped,” Audaz points out, as she inspects all of the gear Trix had.
“We were,” Trix nods as she empties the contents of her box into a small pack which is affixed to her belt.
Audaz nods silently for several beats before speaking, “Clive was wondering if you could use some more people. He saw how spread out everyone was.”
“That would be helpful,” Trix answers as she makes her way toward several aisles of lockers.
“He also wanted to know your status,” Audaz continues.
“Work is progressing nicely, but I don’t know if we’ll get everything up and running yet,”
“Even if you had more people?”
“That could tip things into my favor,” Trix acknowledges as she forces the first locker open. She smiles as she takes in the contents, “Hey, would you like a change of clothes too?”
“I’m sure nothing would have lasted this long in storage,” Audaz replies curiously as she approaches Trix.
“Not unless it was bagged up,” Trix confirms as she pulls out an old soldier’s uniform which looks as good as new in its sealed clear pouch.
“Would you look at that,” Audaz breaths. She gently takes the uniform from Trix and checks its size. Satisfied, she excuses herself and makes her way to a changing room.
“Looks like we’ll have plenty of new clothes for everyone,” Trix says loud enough for Audaz to hear. She opens several more lockers and pulls out countless uniforms, all of which she deposits on an old cart she had found in the corner of the locker room.
“They look like old Coalition uniforms,” Audaz reports, “Like really old.”
“Think Clive would approve?” Trix asks as she finds a weapons rack behind a dingy pane of glass, the rack is full of old Coalition rifles. She smiles as she takes one down for a closer inspection.
“I know he would,” Audaz confirms as she swings her door open and marches out extravagantly like the Colonial Coalition soldier she was now dressed like.
“Vintage uniform indeed,” Trix agrees with Audaz’s earlier remark, admiring the craftmanship that the Coalition once took such pride in. Nowadays, the uniforms reflected everything else in the Coalition, they were cheaply made, lacked any character, and horribly plain. Smiling nostalgically, Trix continues, “I always wanted to have one of those uniforms.”
“Me too,” Audaz agrees, “I also wished that the Coalition would return to what they had been back in those days.”
“Oh, they aren’t that bad,” Trix jokes as she pulls out a uniform for herself.
“Not at all,” Audaz says, feigning agreement, “I adore when they take my family’s crops and money, is so honorable.”
Trix laughs so hard at Audaz’s joke that she has to stop rolling up the uniform she was planning on keeping. It wasn’t that the joke was particularly amusing, it was the fact that the idea of being free once again just hit Trix all at once. This was her, and everyone else’s chance to finally live once again.
Audaz joins Trix at the table that she had laid out the gear she had procured from the lockers. Audaz takes a hold of a rifle, and inspects it for herself, checking the barrel and testing the firing mechanism, she appears to be in her element.
“Looks like you’ve don’t that before,” Trix acknowledges once she regains her composure and returns to rolling up the old uniform.
“A few times,” Audaz replies, sticking out her tongue as she focuses on her work.
Trix chuckles at the sight of the woman—who could win a beauty contest on her worst day—busy herself with a rifle. Her mind wanders to the men she knew back home that would have loved meeting such an enigma of a woman. All those men had shown plenty of interest in her through the years, but Trix hadn’t allowed herself to fall in love until she had settled her score with the Coalition.
“Right,” Trix says sarcastically as she returns to ransacking lockers.
“My brother and I used to smuggle old rifles like this to Resistance cells across Coalition Space,” Audaz admits.
“Really?”
“Yes. We’d buy them from dealers on the fringes of the Galaxy, far from prying eyes.”
“And the Coalition thought nothing of your trips out there?”
“They kept a watchful eye on us, but we were good at hiding our contraband with the more… legal merchandise we would be transporting.”
“Ah, smart,” Trix compliments Audaz. Opening up one more locker, Trix lets out a loud whistle as she admires her latest find, “Got enough grenades here to take out a whole regiment,”
“Think we can use them to take out the prison’s AA defenses?” Audaz inquires.
“Not permanently,” Trix replies, “They are all anti-infantry. Jenniston could get her guns back online without much of any work. Besides, they’ve been sitting here for a while, I wouldn’t want to use them.”
“Then we can leave them to those we are leaving behind,” Audaz announces, “Help them get to the rendezvous point.”
“But…” Trix starts, unwilling to leave any explosives behind, no matter how degraded they may be. Through the years, she had grown quite fond of what a small bomb could do. She liked the idea of carrying enough explosives to blow up a building everywhere she went. After a moment of mourning, she continues, “So Clive’s found a place for them all?”
“Yes, that Danno Reach and his team just returned with Jenniston’s maps. We will meet those we leave behind in an old city south of here. It borders the planet’s desert.”
“This planet has a desert?”
“Yes, a massive one by the looks of it,” Audaz confirms as she finishes loading her rifle’s magazine with some bullets she had found. She drives the clip home, and offers it to Trix, “I’m surprised these things are in such good condition.”
“And the ammo is too?” Trix asks as she handles the rifle.
“They should work,” Audaz replies, “They were kept dry in those ammo crates over there. There may be some duds though, since they are so old.”
“I suppose we are leaving these guns behind as well?” Trix asks hesitantly. She had already fallen in love with the craftmanship of the weapons as well. Their wood stocks seemed to be perfectly balanced, and they felt good in her hands.
“I’m sure they woul
dn’t miss a few things,” Audaz smiles knowingly.
“They’ll definitely have plenty of firepower now,” Trix laughs as she admires her new rifle once again. It had been so long since she had seen a weapon as beautiful as this one was.
“I wonder what else is here,” Audaz muses, glancing down to a watch that Trix assumes was taken from a fallen guard. Glancing around for a moment, Audaz continues, “I had best get back to Clive, he’ll be happy to know about all of this gear.”
“Can I come with you?” Trix hears herself asking before she has a moment to think.
Audaz gives Trix a knowing look before she responds, “I think it would be best if you let Clive do the chasing.”
Trix blushes, knowing Audaz had seen her true motive. Glancing away to hide her crimson red face, she manages to say, “I’ll have some people take a look at the gear in here, see what we can use,”
“Hey,” Audaz says as she gently takes a hold of Trix’s elbow, “He likes you too, so don’t worry,”
Audaz slips out of sight, leaving a dumbfounded Trix standing alone. Trix knew that she had now officially fallen off the deep end, fearing that she had finally fallen in love. Letting out a shrill breath, she smiles and whispers to herself, “I’m in trouble now,”
six
Paradise, Galatia
Richardson admires his new office, which is the most elegant thing that he could say was ever his. Evidently, Triborn had been treated very well the time he served as Major. The office is furnished with an almost blacker-than-black chair, a desk to match, and countless shelves which line the walls. A scarlet curtain is drawn over a window which overlooks the vast jungle. It also houses most of the security feeds for the compound, and one of the three major comm uplinks for the prison. There’s so much tech here, I could start my own spaceport! Richardson chuckles at the thought. Running his finger along a line of books on a shelf, he takes his time reading each and every title. Dust had settled on many of the books, so he knew Triborn didn’t get around to reading them all. Richardson finds several books of interest, which were likely “Safe” as he called it. “Safe” implies a lack of hate in each and every word, nothing to indoctrinate someone to side with Jenniston.