The Fifth Column Boxed Set

by J. N. Chaney

  Sophie appeared next to me, but I didn’t see Mateo anywhere. We moved back the way we’d come when I noticed him taking cover behind an empty crate.

  I made my way over to him and passed him my last charge. “Might come in handy,” I said. “Make sure you get back to the ship.”

  “Thanks,” he answered, fixing his dark eyes on mine for a long moment.

  I wanted to say more, wanted to squeeze his arm or do something to let him know how I felt, but there wasn’t time and it wasn’t our way. My diversion had run its course and the voices of the enemy grew louder as they regrouped.

  He nodded and I tore my eyes away. Sophie and I wound our way through the empty tents, not stopping until we came to the stretch of open dirt. Navari and Haas were already halfway across when gunfire rang out somewhere behind us.

  We sprinted forward, trusting that Mateo would hold them off. Still, trust and faith only went so far, and we took the side opposite Navari and Haas to give the Union a smaller target.

  My heart stuttered when Haas jerked forward and stumbled. In that moment I was ashamed to admit my reaction wasn’t out of concern for my fellow team member, but because I thought that Mateo had been taken out.

  Haas regained his footing and disappeared with the commander down one of the alleys back into the ghost town. I glanced behind me just in time to see a Union grunt step out and raise his rifle, then fall to the ground. Mateo appeared behind him, blood streaming down one side of his face, and I almost went weak with relief.

  There was a loud boom! behind him as one of the tents blew apart, sending burning fragments raining down. He broke into a run, waving his arms at me to get moving.

  I caught up to Sophie, who had taken cover behind one of the dilapidated buildings. Shouts and gunfire continued behind us, but I focused on making it back to the Dreadnight, speeding through the alleys and cutting through ruined structures.

  I paused at the graveyard of broken equipment and debris just long enough to check our back for threats. Smoke billowed from the tents, but it was clear of enemy combatants and the night had grown quiet around us. Then a shadow moved, appearing in one of the doorways. I jerked up my rifle, ready to fire, when Mateo spoke in the comm.

  “It’s me, don’t shoot,” he said. “Go, I’m right behind you.”

  “Copy that,” I answered, not caring that my voice cracked a little.

  The thrusters igniting sounded as Navari prepped the ship for takeoff and we jogged the last few hundred meters. The ramp was already down, which was good because the cloak was still activated, so all we could see was light pouring out of the hull like the universe’s biggest flashlight.

  As soon as Sophie and I boarded, the ramp started to close behind us.

  “Z9 what are you doing?” I demanded. “Lieutenant-Kamal is still behind us. Open the ramp.”

  “My apologies, Sergeant,” answered the computer, sounding regretful. “I cannot comply because that conflicts with a direct order from Commander-Navari.”

  “The hell it does,” I snapped, moving to open the door manually.

  “Step away from the door, Delgado.” Navari stepped into the cargo bay and stalked over to where I stood. “Lieutenant-Kamal didn’t make it.”

  “He was right behind us,” I said angrily. “I saw him.”

  “Then he took a hit to the leg, disabling him,” she claimed. Her face was tight, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of my insubordination or the fact that her lieutenant was outside our ship. “The Union soldiers were on him as soon as fell. It’s unfortunate, but we can’t go back. Z9, get us out of here.”

  “Hold on just one godsdamn minute,” I snarled. “We aren’t leaving one of our own out there.”

  “Stand down, Delgado. That’s a direct order. If you do not, I’ll throw you in the brig myself.”

  “I’m not leaving him.” I pushed past her and keyed in the emergency open sequence. The ramp began to disengage and I turned my back on the commander.

  A heavy hand jerked me away from the panel and spun me around. Without thinking, I swung out, my fist colliding with Haas’ face. His head snapped back from the punch, but he shook it off, recovering just quick enough to dodge my follow up.

  I turned to see he had only been a distraction for Navari, who now stood at the panel working to override my command. With a scream of frustration, I lunged, pushing her out of the way.

  “Sergeant, stand down before you get us all killed!” Navari bellowed.

  I screamed like a woman possessed and raised a fist, ready to drive it into her face. The commander’s eyes went wide with shock when she saw that I was really going to punch her.

  Haas was back on me then, pulling me back, and I rammed an elbow into his gut. He loosened his grip enough that I broke free, then I spun around and performed a defensive move that I’d only done once before.

  I kicked him in the balls.

  He dropped immediately to his knees with a high-pitched yelp.

  My satisfaction was short-lived, though, because I barely had time to register the pain of something heavy colliding with the back of my head, then everything went dark.

  “You’re never going to be more than basic infantry, nonni,” Training-Instructor-Kim snarled at me as I stood in a line of other fresh recruits in the blistering sun.

  The insult was in reference to the fact that I lacked true Sarkonian blood. Only one day out of academy and I could tell precursor training would be just as irritating.

  He looked me up and down. “Women don’t cut it when pitted against men, so you might as well resign yourself to a life of kitchen duty.”

  I didn’t react to the obvious attempt to get a rise out of me and stared straight ahead. If this trainer thought that kind of comment would rattle me, he was in for a wait.

  Someone chuckled, drawing Kim’s attention. His lips twisted into a smile one could only describe as gleeful, then he stalked down the line to the unwise soul.

  Kim proceeded to dress down Recruit-Cooper. I’d already encountered him on the transport and formed an immediate dislike for him. I didn’t dare look, but the string of abuses and curse words were among the most intense I’d witnessed.

  My face was a mask of stone despite the internal satisfaction I felt at my fellow recruit’s predicament.

  “Prepare for a long week, recruits,” the instructor said, finally stepping back from Cooper. “Get some chow, get some sleep, or get in touch with loved ones before lights out. Dismissed!”

  Our group broke formation and I spun to return to the barracks when someone bumped into me. Cooper had shouldered me hard enough that I lost my balance and fell.

  “Nonni bitch,” he sneered under his breath as he stalked by. A few of the other recruits laughed but some of them knew me and just shook their heads.

  I almost said something when a shadow fell over me and a large brown hand extended downward. I couldn’t make out the person’s face with the sun behind them, but it was a man’s hand.

  My cheeks didn’t burn from embarrassment so much as they did from anger. Words didn’t bother me, but I drew the line at getting physical.

  “I don’t need your help,” I grumbled, pushing myself up and dusting the dirt from my uniform.

  The man chuckled, a deep and throaty sound that I instantly liked, though I couldn’t say why. He had black hair and a pleasant face, and now that I was standing, I could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown. Not the usual murky brown that most Sarkonians had either, but closer to the color of coffee.

  “I didn’t think you did. But sometimes it’s nice to know not everyone around is like that asshole.” He jerked his head toward Cooper’s retreating form.

  “Thanks, but I’m used to it.”

  I took the hand he still offered and gave it a firm shake.

  “No problem. Say, I’m about to grab a snack. Care to join me?”

  I stared at him. He was unlike any Sarkonian I’d ever met. “You don’t even know my name,” I told him.
“And I don’t know yours.”

  He grinned. “Recruit-Kamal,” he said. “And you are?”

  The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it.

  “Recruit-Delgado,” I returned. It bothered me more than a little that I felt disappointment when our hands parted.

  One of his eyebrows winged up and I knew Recruit-Kamal had recognized my father’s name.

  “As in…”

  “Yes, that one. But I’m adopted, so don’t hold it against me,” I said darkly, then turned, fully planning to walk away.

  “Mess hall is the other way,” he said to my back, not commenting on what I’d said.

  Pausing, I tossed a careless glance over my shoulder. “I never said yes to going with you.”

  “No, but you should. It’ll be fun to swap adopted stories, maybe over coffee.” He winked at me.

  His words stopped me, like he’d probably intended, though he had no way of knowing it was because of his promise of caffeine, not our shared childhoods. I was exhausted but knew the dangers of going to bed early in a place such as this. Still, at the mention of his being adopted I finally placed why his name sounded familiar.

  “Kamal... Is your father Advisor-Kamal?” I asked when it clicked.

  My father had spoken of an Advisor-Kamal on numerous occasions. Ironically, he’d always compared me to the advisor’s son and how I needed to be as well behaved as that boy. I combed my memory for the right name. Mathias? No, that wasn’t right. Mat something...

  “Yes, that one,” he said, echoing my earlier words.

  “Mateo, right?” I finally remembered, falling into step when he started off in the direction of the mess hall.

  He nodded, giving me a sidelong look. “How did you know that?”

  “My father was always telling me to be more like you,” I replied. “Respectful. Silent.”

  I said the words with a stern authoritarian tone in my best imitation of my father. It was meant to be funny, but Kamal’s expression went dark, though he didn’t comment.

  We’d gone to the mess and shared that coffee, sparking what would be my only other close friendship besides Sophie. I’d come to find out that the two of us had a lot in common. Even though he was Sarkonian born, his adoptive parents had decided corporal punishment was the way to mold him into their vision of the prodigal son.

  The longer we knew each other the more I realized he was a different person with me. Mateo wore an outer shell for everyone else, just like I did. He worked hard to appear laid back, but he was tough as neutronium on the inside. During the early months of training, a few people made the mistake of underestimating him. After that, no one messed with him.

  I was no slouch in the hand to hand department, but Mateo helped me to be even better.

  6

  True to Commander-Navari’s word, I woke up in the brig, although I was fuzzy on whether she’d actually done it herself. Pain lanced through my skull where she had hit me, giving me the mother of all headaches. I touched the spot gingerly and found a bandage covering a knot the size of a baby’s fist.

  Sophie’s work, I guessed.

  Then, remembering Mateo, I pushed myself up into a sitting position with a groan. Had my stunt given him enough time to get back? I had no way of knowing how long I’d been out, and the cell boasted no windows, making it impossible to tell if we were in a slip tunnel.

  “Z, you there?” I asked.

  No response.

  It didn’t surprise me in the least that Navari would prevent me from accessing the ship’s computer. I knew that I was in big trouble. Attacking a superior officer was one of the cardinal sins and I’d fucked up. Royally.

  I told myself that it didn’t matter as long as Mateo had made it back on the ship. The uncertainty was burning inside of me.

  One way or another, I had to know.

  I didn’t have to wonder for long, though. A few minutes later, Navari strode into the brig and stopped in front of my cell. She must have been watching on the feed for me to wake up or had Z9 monitoring me. The latter was more likely.

  The commander studied the pad in her hands before looking down at me. I couldn’t read her expression, but it wasn’t pleasant.

  “Delgado, Eva, rank sergeant. You are hereby charged with one act of insubordination for willfully disobeying a direct order, one act of assault on a member of the Sarkonian Empire’s military force, and one act of assault on a superior officer.” Her voice didn’t waver as she delivered the news and I had to wonder if she was enjoying this. “You will be remanded into custody and subject to court martial. Do you understand?”

  I stared at her. “Ensign-Haas put his hands on me first. I did return the favor, but it wasn’t assault,” I said, seething.

  “Ensign-Haas was detaining you under direct order from me,” replied Navari. “I can play the video feed back for you, if you like.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I, Sergeant-Eva-Delgado, understand the charges brought against me.”

  “If the court sees fit, you may seek representation. Do you understand?”

  We both knew that was a crock of shit. If the court granted a lawyer, that person would still do whatever the Empire wanted, then pocket the retainer fee.

  “Understood,” I answered.

  Navari signed with her thumb, then held out the pad for me to do the same. She looked slightly wary, as though I might grab her through the bars. I might have, but I figured I was in enough trouble for one day.

  “Any questions?”

  I hesitated, not sure I wanted to hear the answer, then decided I had to know. “Did Kamal make it?”

  My stomach sank when her expression softened a fraction.

  “No, I’m sorry. I know you two were close,” she said in an almost gentle tone.

  I’d expected that answer, but it still hit me like a punch to the gut. “I don’t understand… he was right behind us. There was no firefight happening,” I argued, refusing to believe Mat was gone for good. “We’re not supposed to abandon our own.”

  The last words came out in an accusing tone and Navari sighed. “If I thought we wouldn’t all get killed going back for him, I wouldn’t have left him. But I saw him go down. Your job,” she said angrily, jabbing a finger in my direction, “is to follow orders and trust me as your superior officer to make the right call. You did neither and here we are. If you had succeeded in opening that door, we might all be dead. A true Sarkonian wouldn’t have defied that order for the sake of one.”

  Not trusting myself to speak, I glared daggers at her.

  “If you don’t want to believe me, fine. Maybe this will convince you.” She handed me the pad, which I reluctantly accepted. “Z9, play the footage.”

  Z seemed to hesitate a beat. “Commander, my programming suggests that this may be detrimental to the mental health of the sergeant.”

  “Z9-77A, I’m beginning to think that you have a serious malfunction. If you do not follow my order, I will have you decommissioned and sold for parts. Is that clear?”

  “Acknowledged,” replied the A.I. “Commencing playback.”

  Navari stomped out of the brig, leaving me alone with the pad.

  Sophie and I appeared on the Dreadnight’s feed, with Mat a little way behind us. My fingers gripped the pad so hard that I had to force them to relax in fear that it might crack in my hands.

  I watched the Lieutenant working his way through the field of discarded equipment and could just make out the glimmer of blood from his head wound. The glow from the Dreadnight’s open ramp and thrusters illuminated the area enough to see him and the trio of Union soldiers that lurked behind him. They’d been partially obscured in shadow and he didn’t give any indication that he’d realized they were there.

  Unable to stop the hand I clapped over my mouth, I watched in horror as the soldiers fired on Mateo. He lurched forward, losing his footing and falling to the ground just fifty meters from safety as rounds slammed into his back. The three men s
topped firing as they neared his body. One kicked the rifle he’d dropped out of reach, then toed one of Mateo’s legs.

  He didn’t move again before the feed cut off. I stared at the blank screen in shock and feeling numb even though I’d just witnessed one of my closest friends, my lover, die. It was as the commander said, the shooting had occurred concurrently with the ship’s engines starting, which would have blocked out the noise for me and Sophie.

  I sat in stunned silence for several seconds before the anguish finally hit me, hard as a fist and quick as lightning. It took all of my training and then some not to cry out. Emotion welled up inside me, slipping its leash. I hurled the pad across the cell and watched as it collided with the wall, shattering into tiny pieces.

  I spent the rest of the trip home in silence and unable to eat. Navari hadn’t cared since we weren’t far enough away for me to die of starvation and let me wallow in my misery. I’d hoped that the commander would at least let Sophie come and visit, but she didn’t. Navari had even gone so far as to deliver my refused meals herself to keep me isolated.

  Military police escorted me from the brig to Ambiana in restraints with Navari leading the way. Any other time it might have bothered me to be paraded through the ship in front of my peers that way, but not today. Their faces registered as blurs and the hushed whispers fell on deaf ears.

  I ignored the pointing fingers and shocked expressions because none of it mattered. They were the least of my worries. I knew that based on my charges, I faced a lot of time in a military-grade prison, maybe even a death sentence. The Sarkonian Empire kept its people in check with stringent rules and heavy punishments, and I’d really stepped in it this time.

  Assault on another military member ranged from demotion to prison time, depending on the situation. Defiance of direct orders could mean a stint in solitary confinement, prison, or hard labor. But assault on a superior officer? That was another matter entirely.

  I’d heard whispers about lower level personnel making enemies of higher ups. Their stories always sent a clear message to watch your step. Fuck with the wrong superior and you might just find yourself branded a traitor. Traitors either received a death sentence or were whisked away and never heard from again.