The Fifth Column Boxed Set

by J. N. Chaney

  I didn’t think Navari had that kind of clout, but I wouldn’t put such an act past the woman. A grim feeling rose up when I recalled her private meeting with the Vice-Admiral and I was suddenly very worried.

  The MPs delivered me alone to an interrogation room that felt almost clinical with its four plain gray walls and harsh lighting. Their emptiness seemed to press in on me, but I tamped down on the feeling. A dinged-up metal table with two chairs—one of which I occupied and was bolted to the floor—made up the only furniture in the room.

  I was offered nothing—not that I expected anything—and they let me cool my heels for over an hour before the door opened and two people entered.

  It didn’t surprise me in the least to see Commander-Navari. What did surprise me was her companion. Vice-Admiral-Kaska took the open seat at the table, leaving Navari to stand. The grim feeling increased tenfold and I silently wondered if the commander did have the clout after all.

  The debrief a few days prior felt like a lifetime ago. Like that day, Kaska stayed silent for a time, scanning files on his pad. I knew it was a power move on his part—trying to make me sweat. I had no doubt he already knew every damn thing about me and the mission problems.

  I tried not to yawn.

  “Sergeant-Delgado,” Kasko began, his tone somehow managing to come out mild and almost pleasant. “What we have here is a well and truly fucked-up situation.”

  Navari smirked behind the Vice-Admiral’s back, but I ignored her.

  “Which confounds me,” he continued, leaning forward with an earnest look on his face and touching the pad briefly. “Your record is exemplary. I see you had a rebellious streak prior to the academy, but it looks like you grew out of that. Or so it seemed, until this little incident.”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered blithely. What I wanted to say was that I’d learned early on that my pride was not worth the punishment defending it had earned me.

  “In fact, you have no negative marks whatsoever.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, tell me. Why would such an upstanding soldier of the Sarkonian Empire like yourself suddenly do something like this?” He waved a hand at the pad as if it encompassed all of my bad deeds.

  I met his gaze, then dropped it, playing his game and letting him think I was ashamed and intimidated. I’d become an expert at this game over the years, first with my father, then in the academy. I knew how to handle men like him and slipped into the persona of General-Delgado’s daughter with practiced ease.

  “Our unit is close, sir.” I kept my tone light and respectful, even a touch contrite. “We spend more time with each other than our families, and we’ve become a family of sorts.”

  Navari snorted, causing Kaska to turn his head ever so slightly. She reddened at the cheeks and fell silent again.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, fanning a dismissive hand at Navari. “You were talking about the unit being close?”

  “Yes, like family,” I agreed. “And when I feared one of them might be left behind, I temporarily lost my faculties,” I explained, injecting my tone with shame and a healthy dose of regret.

  “I see. Why don’t you tell me about the events leading up to the… insubordination?” prompted Kaska.

  I took him through it, starting at the beginning and pausing every so often when he would ask a question. I didn’t leave out anything, though I did make sure not to sound overly critical of Navari.

  When I’d finished, he turned to Navari and waved her to the side of the table so he could look at us both.

  “The Sergeant’s report lines up pretty closely with your accounts,” he said to her, rubbing a hand on his clean-shaven chin and looking a bit pensive. “But you left out that uncertainty about the mission had been voiced.”

  “That didn’t seem relevant at the time, sir.” For the first time since I’d met her, Navari looked flustered.

  The sight warmed me, but I kept my features reserved even though I felt a small seedling of hope sprout within me.

  “Did you address these misgivings?” he asked.

  “No,” she admitted, a look of confusion wrinkling her brow as the Vice-Admiral turned away from her with a dismissive look. “But the data—”

  He held up a hand to silence her and studied his pad again.

  “The suit feed corroborates the sergeant’s report. And highlights your refusal to acknowledge your soldier when she brought you a legitimate concern,” he said flatly.

  Panic was beginning to spread on Navari’s features and she dropped her formal stance to bring her hands around to point at me. “Sir, with respect, our intel didn’t support that. As the commanding officer, I made a call in the field and my subordinate defied that order.” Navari’s entire face was flushed and I had to say I couldn't blame her. Even I hadn’t predicted this turn of events.

  “The wrong one,” he pointed out. “You cited that a true soldier under your command should trust you completely and obey orders without question. Would you say that you follow orders, Commander?”

  “Of course,” she spit out, glaring at me. “Delgado struggles with following orders because she isn’t a true Sarkonian.”

  “What about Sergeant-Delgado makes you say that?” Kaska asked, his voice turning frigid as he emphasized my title.

  “Well, she’s… I mean, Sergeant-Delgado is uh, not Sarkon born,” replied Navari, immediately realizing her mistake and stumbling over the words.

  “I find that very interesting,” Kaska mused, then went in for the kill. “As I know your parents are not originally from Sarkon.”

  Navari’s face registered shock, no doubt mirroring my own expression. The Vice-Admiral’s statement had me reeling. Whatever I’d expected, it hadn’t been this.

  “Additionally, you have a number of complaints against you, all for discrimination,” continued the Vice-Admiral in a reproachful tone. “But most importantly is that your failure to follow standing orders has left us vulnerable to the Union.”

  “Standing orders, sir?”

  “Yes. Leave no evidence behind. That’s S.O.P for a unit such as yours, Commander. And with only”—Kaska checked the pad as if he’d forgotten the information—“three attacking soldiers, it is my belief that Kamal could have been retrieved.”

  Navari managed to keep her voice even in an impressive show of calm before addressing her superior again. “Vice-Admiral-Kaska, I believed Lieutenant-Kamal to be deceased.”

  Kaska stood up, signaling the end of the conversation, and straightened his spotless dress uniform. “If you want to press this issue, Commander, you can,” he said meaningfully. “However, know that it opens you up to scrutiny as well.”

  Navari stood in stony silence for a moment before answering, “I withdraw my charges, sir.”

  He nodded in approval. “As you wish. Dismissed.”

  The commander stormed out of the room without another word.

  “Sergeant,” began Kaska, refocusing on me. “There is still the matter of your actions. Their seriousness cannot be overlooked. I had a lengthy discussion with your father.”

  I snapped up to attention at the mention of my father. The leniency made more sense if he’d been involved.

  “Due to your rank, service history, and quite frankly, to save your family the embarrassment of this incident, the charges have been greatly reduced,” he advised. “So long as you take responsibility for disorderly conduct relating to an altercation with a fellow military member.”

  “Yes sir,” I acknowledged, inclining my head.

  “Good. Disciplinary action is as follows: a twenty-five percent pay decrease, applicable for six pay cycles, no leave granted for six standard months, and one week in solitary confinement.”

  The dock in pay would hurt the most but I’d make it, and I never took leave anyway, so I signed off on all the paperwork. I didn’t look forward to a week in solitary, but it was far better than I could have expected.

  “So, we are clear, Sergeant-Delgado. This,” he said, making a circul
ar motion with his hand, “is a one-time deal. There will be no more chances. You put one toe out of line and your father will not be able to step in again.”

  I interpreted that to mean my father wouldn’t step in again, not couldn’t.

  “I understand, sir.”

  “One last thing,” said Kaska, pausing on his way out. “General-Delgado is aboard the Ambiana and would like a word.”

  And here I thought I was getting off easy, I thought wryly to myself, instinctively sitting up straighter.

  The general entered with my mother in tow, escorted by an MP. Ever the politician, he waited until the door had closed before dropping the facade of calm he wore like a second skin.

  My mother stayed behind him, worry lines marring her expression. I couldn’t tell if her concern was for me or my father’s mood.

  Still cuffed to the table, I couldn’t stand to properly greet them, but that was just as well.

  “Father, Mother,” I said, inclining my head respectfully before meeting my father’s eyes.

  Anger flashed hot in them and suddenly I was an eight-year-old little girl again, staring up as he loomed over me.

  He slapped the right side of my face hard enough that I saw stars, then caught the left with the back of his hand to complete the set. “You have shamed me, girl,” he said, disgusted. “Your actions reflect poorly on this family.”

  His use of the term “girl” stung more than the slap had. Failing to address someone by rank was disrespectful, but to be stripped of maturity meant major humiliation.

  For me especially so, as I’d had to graduate the academy before my father would refer to me as anything other than “girl.”

  I bowed my head to the table in a sign of deep regret. “I am sorry that my actions have brought shame to the family, Father. It is my hope you and Mother can forgive me.”

  “We do not,” he answered coldly. “Forgiveness is earned. Maybe some time to reflect can help you to come up with ways to do that.”

  So, he’d been the one to insist on solitary confinement. I should’ve known. He knew better than anyone my fear of the dark. He’d created it.

  His footsteps moved away, and I raised my eyes to see my mother standing near the table. She reached a hand out, like she might move closer.

  “Let’s go, Diana.” The general stood in the open doorway glaring at her, but she didn’t obey.

  Instead, my mother rushed forward and grasped my hands in hers.

  “It’ll be okay,” she promised.

  “Diana!” barked my father, fury causing a vein to pop out of his neck.

  She finally broke away from me and followed him out, leaving me to stare after them. A few minutes later, a guard came in to take me to my temporary accommodations for the next week.

  It wasn’t until later that night that I realized it was only the second time I’d seen my mother defy the general, and I smiled.

  7

  “You’ll stay in there until you can learn to be obedient,” said Major-Delgado, dragging me forward by the arm as I dug my heels in. I’d already learned the hard way that biting, punching, and kicking earned me something worse than time in the dark.

  The door to the closet I called The Black Hole was already open, but I couldn’t see inside. A whimper escaped even though I ordered myself to be brave.

  The Major stopped just short of the doorway and glared down at me. I was so small compared to him. Just a stupid kid with stupid luck, and all I wanted to do was go home.

  “What is your name?” He’d started asking me that question from the first day I came to live with him and his wife, and hadn’t stopped since. Each time I refused to answer, or I gave the wrong response, he threw me in The Black Hole.

  I stared at him, stone-faced, determined not to give in.

  “Have it your way, girl.” He shoved me inside and pulled the door shut with a snap behind me.

  “No!” I cried, lunging for the handle.

  A key turned in the lock, followed by the sound of the heavier room door closing, then retreating footsteps before it went quiet.

  “Please let me out!” I pounded on the door until my small fists ached, but nobody came. Dropping to the floor, I looked for the slightest hint of light, hoping some might come under the door, but it didn’t.

  I stretched my arms out and moved cautiously until one of my hands grazed a wall. The space was tiny, and it didn’t take me long to discover that, as usual, it held nothing of interest. Nothing at all, actually. For one paralyzing moment I pictured bugs and spiders crawling over my arms and legs, biting me, and I almost called out again.

  After stomping around the small space to scare any potential creepies away, I finally sat in one of the corners, hugged my knees, and cried silent tears. It wasn’t fair.

  “My name is Rena Bennet,” I whispered to myself, trying to keep my voice from shaking as my throat swelled with grief. “Not Eva Delgado.”

  The kidnappers had been telling me for months that I was this Eva person and that the two people that owned this house were my parents. But they weren’t. They were imposters.

  My heart longed for home. I wanted my mama and papa. But my home was gone, blasted to smithereens by the Sarkonians. They were bastards. That was what I wanted to say. Papa didn’t condone cursing, but I didn’t think he’d scold me for it now. I wanted to crawl under the covers in my bed and wake up to find that this was all a dream. I squeezed my eyes shut and wished with everything I had that I could be home again, nestled between my parents as they wrapped their arms around me.

  All the fairy tales said that wishes came true. Even Papa thought so. He always told me that if you wished for something hard enough and it wasn’t selfish, it might come true. You just had to believe in it.

  But when I cracked an eye open, The Black Hole remained, and I was decidedly not home.

  So, I sat in the dark and began to plan my escape. I tried to remember all of the cartoons I’d seen, but none of that seemed helpful. Even as a kid, I knew I was too small to fight the bigger adults, and they kept the fancy house locked up tight. Every door and window had a sensor that alerted house security if it was moved.

  I’d discovered that the first time I tried to run away by crawling out a window. After that, any door or window with access to the outside had been secured.

  The only way out was for me to do what they wanted, or at least pretend, even if it hurt. When they trusted me, I could escape. Then I would come back and get my revenge.

  I dried my tears and stopped sniffling.

  “Eva Delgado,” I said slowly, testing the words out. They sounded foreign to my ears and I immediately disliked them. Then I remembered one of the vids Papa liked where a hero went undercover and used a different name. I liked that idea.

  My name is Eva Delgado. I am a daughter of Sarkon. I love my stupid parents. No, I couldn’t think like that. I love my parents.

  I repeated that to myself for what felt like hours.

  The sound of the door opening and a bright light hitting my face woke me. I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep.

  The Major—no, my father—filled the doorway, light spilling in around him.

  “What is your name, girl?” my new father asked.

  I got to my feet, craning my neck to stare up at him. “Eva Delgado,” I said.

  He smiled, victorious in his achievement, and my heart soared.

  My plan was already working. I would find my way home soon enough.

  Solitary confinement consisted of a cell measuring just under five square meters. Not tall enough to stand up straight or stretch out when sleeping. The space was bare, with the exception of a minimalist toilet—I suspected that existed more for the guards than for us, though. No one wanted to haul out buckets of filth.

  My father had been right about one thing. I had plenty of time to think. But if he thought I would spend my week reflecting on my bad choices and the shame I’d brought to him, the man was sorely mistaken.

  T
hat first day, I tortured myself by replaying the mission on Harah in my head over and over again, wondering if I could have done something different. Had I sent Sophie ahead I might have seen the attackers. If I’d turned before boarding the Dreadnight I might have been able to help him somehow.

  I let those thoughts run loose, unable to stop the guilt that wracked me for failing to open the ramp again. Inside, I cursed the commander for giving the order so easily and Haas for following it.

  There had only been three soldiers. I’d have gone after Mateo alone if she hadn’t stopped me. The Dreadnight wielded weapons of its own that Navari could have used. The thought crossed my mind that Navari had done it on purpose to get at me, but that was pushing it. She might have been a bitch, but I couldn’t believe that she would willingly leave a soldier to die at the hands of the Union out of spite.

  My thoughts pinged back and forth between rationalizing the events and assigning blame.

  On one hand I hated the commander, first for not listening to me, then for making Mateo cover us. The soldier in me recognized that it wasn’t a unique scenario. I’d been a part of more than a few missions that hadn’t gone as planned.

  On the other, as much as I despised her for the decision, I could see why Navari made the choice to leave after witnessing the scene outside the ship. Any commander in her place might have made the same decision.

  None of it mattered anyway. Nothing could change what happened and bring him back.

  My personal connection with Mat had made me emotional. I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t leave any of my unit behind, but I knew deep down that I’d never have punched Mateo or Sophie to save Navari or Haas.

  The final seconds of the video feed plagued my memories, and I saw the image of Mateo hitting the ground on a constant loop. My chest tightened and the already too-tiny cell felt even smaller, even though I couldn’t see it.

  I thought about the many hours I’d spent locked in The Black Hole, planning a grand escape that never happened. By the time my father had trusted me, I was on my way to military school.