Dothin smiled. The expression couldn’t hide his exhaustion. “I was. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Ey! I said we ain’t got time for—”
Cel spun on the soldier. Short from uttering a squeak he hopped and nearly dropped his weapon.
“I said,” Cel told him, “one minute.”
Her two guides backed up.
Dothin chuckled.
Cel turned back to him but shook her head. “Somebody decided Governor Vares did something wrong. They attacked the palace in force.”
“Do you know where Annister is?”
Cel shook her head.
Dothin’s face went white. “What about his girl?”
“Ashla is safe for now.”
“Are you some kind of prisoner?”
“I don’t think so.” Cel shrugged. “My only involvement in the battle was in defending Ms. Vares.”
Dothin stepped forward to whisper. His wrinkles were all wrong. They told the story of a man given to smiles and laughter. Now they were pushing in the wrong directions, further displaying the fear in Dothin’s face.
“Listen, Cel, I’ve got to get home.”
Cel shook her head. “Well, Dothin, everybody here wants to leave.”
“It’s not that.” Dothin looked left and right as if watching for prying eyes. “I’ve taken in someone.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story, but I’ve adopted someone. He’s an orphan. I took him in. He’s even started learning my trade. Anyway, I expected to be gone a few days. I was packing up to leave when all this happened. I need to get back.”
“Miss,” her captor said, and she enjoyed his respectful tone. Cel nodded at him.
“Listen, Dothin. I’m not sure what help I can give you. I’ve got a...kind of a meeting coming up. When it’s done can I meet you someplace to talk?”
“I’d like that. I think the little cantina in the courtyard hasn’t been all the way blasted into space and I think they’re still serving. How about there?”
“Sounds good.”
Cel’s guards stopped her in front of a large wooden double-door carved with the image of a tall buck with great antlers standing at a stream. The buck seemed to stare at her. This was where she most often met with Annister. It was in the room beyond those doors that she first perpetrated her love affair with him what felt like decades ago. Annister had assured her the design on the doors had been hand-carved. He’d even introduced her to the artist.
Now that buck’s big eyes stared at her, its emotionless face managed to accuse her. Cel turned towards the doors.
“This is Celestine Numbar to see Minister Anatheret,” one of her guards said to the sentry. The sentry nodded and opened one of the doors.
Inside Annister’s huge office overlooking the sun-soaked inner court, and behind Annister’s big desk sat a man in a nondescript black suit. His manicured fingernails swiped at a series of holographic screens filled with data, text and graphs. His perfect black eyebrows raised as he saw Cel enter the room, and then he waved the screens away. What Cel hated most about Tanno Anatheret were his eyes. His dark eyes seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Cel felt cold under the gaze of those eyes, as if touched by a hint of vacuum.
“Ah, Ms. Numbar,” he said, and the friendly sound of his voice was like honey poured over arsenic.
“Defense Minister Anatheret,” Cel replied, crossing her arms.
“Please, take a seat.”
“I’ll stand, thanks.”
“You’ve left hospital two days early after nearly being killed in an assassination attempt. I’m sure you’d rather sit.”
The minister was right. After everything she’d been through, Cel was ready to stretch out on the rug and go to sleep. But she refused to show one iota of weakness to this man.
“You asked for me to come here. Why?”
“It seemed professionally courteous considering our prior engagement.”
“You mean the one where I give you information and you use it to plot a full-scale attack using the Alliance Defense Force? On an Alliance member state, by the way, and how do you plan to explain that, Minister?”
“Simple.” Anatheret lifted his hands. Nothing up his sleeves, the motion seemed to say. “Annister Vares had committed treason against the Alliance.”
“Treason!?”
“In an effort to spare a prosperous and populous system from a full-scale war, we have surgically attacked the governor’s palace. So long as the people of Antarus make no reprisals, the system can vote in a new governor and return to peaceful and legal relations with the CAS.”
“Don’t give me that dog wat. Annister never committed treason against the Alliance.”
The look on the minister’s face suggested otherwise, and Cel’s confidence cracked. Anatheret opened the desk’s virtual desktop, tapped a few buttons and pulled up a holographic image Cel had seen before.
“Void take you, Tanno.”
The minister smiled at her. The expression was somewhat catlike. And she was a trapped rat.
“Where is she?” Cel asked.
“In orbit,” the minister said. “Now that we have the palace under control we’re bringing her here for further questioning.”
“Look,” Cel said, trying to keep her temper, trying to keep her focus. Her legs were tired. The pain in her thigh was now a band of crimson fire across her whole left side. “You can’t blame him for wanting to bring her here. He’s a single father. His daughter’s mother is dead. He’s dying. He made one stupid mistake in the attempts to keep his girl from becoming an orphan.”
“Sympathy for a man you hate?” The minister’s expression went half pity and have incredulity.
“Where is he now? Is he alive?”
Anatheret shook his head. “That’s no concern of yours.”
Cel gritted her teeth and winced. She fought against the threatening tears. Had she really hated Annister this much? “What about his daughter?”
“That is a different situation. For now, you can relax in knowing I have no ill intent towards Ashla Vares, so long as she remains here on the palace grounds in the company of a guard of my choosing.”
“For now?”
“In the meantime, you are free to wander about the compound or do whatever it is you wish to do until I have further need of you. Maybe change out of that...outfit.”
The minister made a gesture and the screens returned. His eyes went back to them.
“Do I have your word that the girl is safe?”
Anatheret looked at Cel through the virtual screens. A block of text, characters backwards, became an odd bruise over his face. He smiled, baring his perfect white teeth.
“I promise the girl is safe.”
Cel felt a chill trickle down her spine. What had he asked at the beginning of their last transmission? How much do you care about keeping your promises? Cel didn’t have to ask him. She knew how much, and the knowledge filled her with dread.
Chapter Nineteen:
Words of Knowledge
“Am I being punished?”
Soma stood in the Hamartiya’s shooting range holding a standard-issue A-16 in his hands. Lieutenant Garin stood outside the next firing stall. She leaned against the partition between the stalls like a model ready to be photographed: legs crossed, hand on her hip, her long hair falling about her shoulders. The only things ruining the effect were the uniform and the noise-cancelling headphones. She shook her head at Soma and gave him an innocent look.
“Now why would I punish you, Sergeant Major?”
Soma turned, raised the repeater and fired a few shots at the moving targets downrange. All three targets disappeared. Not since basic had he fired an assault particle repeater. It was the weapon of Defense Force troopers. They accelerated ionized particles to super-high speeds, which made them powerful and deadly weapons with serious stopping power. But in the realm of marine combat, where gravity on the battlefield was an inconstant variable, such a wea
pon would not only accelerate its projectile forward, but also its wielder backwards, with possibly devastating results. As such Soma was more accustomed to laser weapons, which applied no kickback to the wielder.
“I’m not saying that you’re punishing me, lieutenant. Maybe someone higher on the chain. Maybe that MOD guy.”
“Escorting the prisoner that you and your team captured is supposed to be an honor, Sergeant. There’s going to be fanfare, a speech, and everything.”
“Yeah,” Soma said, “but we have to do it in some other unit’s uniform. If Raven Squad is being honored, why can’t we be honored as we are, a marine unit.”
“You know you complain a lot for a non-com.”
Soma lifted the weapon then dropped it again. He looked back at the lieutenant but Garin was smiling at him. He chuckled, lined up another few shots and pulled the trigger.
“You’re getting pretty good at that.”
“Maybe,” Soma said, reloading. “Let’s hope I don’t have to prove myself too soon.
When Soma had left the observation chamber, still haunted by the sounds of Remnant’s screams, and checked his link, he found a message from several of his squaddies linked to a live newsfeed.
“Sarge, check this out,” said one. “The void is going on?” said another.
Soma followed the link they sent and found himself part of a system-wide audience to a massive press-conference. Some nameless MOD representative stated that the governor made an illegal attempt to shield the outlaw known as Remnant. So, she was a proper criminal now? The Alliance executed both a strike on the ship bringing the outlaw to Antarus space—no mention as to which ship—and an assault on the gubernatorial palace. Governor Annister Vares was alive and in ADF custody. No further attacks were planned so long as the citizens of Antarus do not attempt any reprisals. The Alliance values the Antarii system as a prosperous member state, blah, blah, blah.
Raven Squad had spent the following hours training for their “big honor” wherein they would escort the vicious criminal to a more permanent holding facility at the palace.
Now, a few hours after Soma’s final practice session with Lieutenant Garin, he sat in one of the fold-down chairs in a Peace Corps gunship. Unlike the Phantom Class gunships Soma was used to, the Peace Corps’ Banshee Class was designed to move troops into and out of orbit. It was smaller as it needed neither the equipment to cut through a starship’s hull nor a dedicated medical station. It didn’t have an N-slip drive.
The Banshee did, however, have a lot of versatility when it came to troop transportation, embarkation and debarkation. The fold-down chairs converted to medical gurneys. They could be rotated forward for entry into the gravity well, inward for briefing and debriefing, and outward for quick drops via the gunship’s side doors. Regular entry and exit were via the gunship’s large rear gate.
Soma found himself eying Remnant often during the descent. Watching the girl be tortured hadn’t helped his fixation any. Instead it made him even more uncomfortable about her. The girl seemed fragile. She needed protection. She needed his protection. Soma shook his head, pushed that thought away.
Soma had never been one to hope in anything he couldn’t see. The Order of Benefaction had never seemed more than a cult of madmen to him and since they had the Alliance’s ear and had lobbied for the subjugation of all other religions, they seemed doubly untrustworthy. The Elders he had met seemed less like holy men than politicians in funny clothes.
When the first rumors started spreading about Remnant and her deeds, Soma had smiled and shook his head. When the rumors had stated that she was now wanted by the Alliance, Soma had shrugged. When the Alliance had tasked him and his team to capture her, Soma had found it a funny coincidence. The Alliance wanted her, they were going to send someone to capture her.
“Sergeant Major,” came the unfamiliar voice through the speakers in his open-faced helmet. “We’re thirty seconds from the LZ.”
“Copy that.” Soma looked again at the girl. Her appearance hadn’t changed much since their first meeting aboard the Elpizio. She continued to wear the same clothes she had then. Was she paler now? Thinner? Were they not feeding her? She’s fragile. I need to protect her.
Remnant was speaking to Private Doff. Soma toggled his headset to listen in via Doff’s microphone.
“You are Private Emerin Doff, yes?”
Doff eyed her. “Talking to a prisoner is off limits,” he said.
Remnant nodded. “May I speak then? Just for a moment?”
Doff was a good-natured man, not prone to harsh words. He nodded but kept his expression cold and distant.
“I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be okay.”
“What?” Doff asked, shock breaking protocol. Soma frowned.
“It’s going to be scary and painful, but my Master has told me that he will heal you and that you will see your wife and children again.”
Doff’s face went red. His jaw stiffened. Even from the other side of the cabin Soma could see the anger boiling off of him. Doff turned to Remnant and Soma thought he might strike her. Instead he said, “Do not speak to me again.”
Remnant nodded and went quiet. Soma shut the feed off.
What was that about? He found himself eying Remnant again and this time she returned his gaze. Her expression was unreadable.
“Making landfall now, Sergeant,” came the same unfamiliar voice.
“Affirmative,” Soma replied, then to his men, “Alright, just like we practiced. Alpha team in front, Charlie in back and I’ll be with Bravo in the middle with the prisoner. Stick to formation, watch your sectors. We’ve got nothing to worry about. Intel says the compound is locked down tight.
No one responded, and Soma wasn’t surprised. Everyone was edgy by the strange goings on lately. Ever since they hit the Elpizio up went down and down went sideways. Soma didn’t have the words to encourage them but hoped a few weeks of landfall might help them all forget the strangeness of current events.
A set of heavy thuds shook his seat. Green track lights lit up between the bays of seats.
“Everybody up!”
Soma stood, hit the control pad above his chair and watched as his seat folded up into the ceiling. Once everyone’s chairs were up the cabin of the gunship was room enough to set out their formation.
Remnant was up too, and Soma could see the binders on her wrists and ankles. The latter had enough slack for her to walk. Soma pulled the repeater from the ceiling, engaged the magazine and checked his ammo count. It was all unnecessary, but training and habit took over.
“Alpha team is ready, Sergeant” called Kornall.
“Bravo team is lookin’ pretty!” called Mako.
“Charlie team is ready,” called Dakkin.
Soma walked to the back of the cabin where Remnant waited for orders. “You’re with me,” he said. She nodded.
Soma guided her into place, told the pilot that Raven Squad was ready, and waited. Soma heard little of what was going on outside. A voice boomed but Soma couldn’t make out any words. Fighters screamed far above, leaving booms and crackles in their wakes. Soma wondered if fireworks in the daytime were worth the trouble.
Soma looked at Remnant. She was a little pale. And she had a slight tremble. She’s so fragile, I need to protect her. The voice called. Shut up! he shouted back. He wanted to say it out loud. He fought the impulse.
Soma sighed, started adjusting his weight from one foot to the other, wondering how long he would be stuck inside this tin can.
The voice came back. “Alright, Sergeant Major, this is your cue.”
The rear hatch dropped, its well-oiled hydraulics flexing. Brilliant sunlight filled the cabin and the visor on Soma’s helmet adjusted, darkening and removing glare. The booming voice finally found his words.
“In addition, fair people of Antarus, it is my great pleasure to announce the capture of the villainous criminal known as Remnant.”
“Alright, Kornall, let’s move.”
>
“Alpha team, display arms.” Alpha team snapped their weapons into position in perfect timing. “Forward march!”
Kornall led alpha team out into the sunny courtyard. Bravo and Charlie followed suit, and Soma nudged Remnant forward, keeping her in the center of Bravo team.
The palace was a single monolithic mansion covered in real brick-and-mortar and with massive picture windows. The palace surrounded the courtyard Soma was marching into, standing three and four stories above him, and covering shady colonnades on all three sides.
People stood or leaned against columns or sat at tables and watched, but if this was supposed to be a warm welcome, someone had poured ice on it before Soma got there.
“And now Sergeant Major Soma Cross of the Alliance Navy and his fearsome Raven Squad have brought the criminal here for further questioning.”
The voice paused as if expecting an applause that didn’t come. People looked on, those sitting at tables continued their conversations in hushed tones. Everyone had heard about this girl and her ‘special gifts’ but aside from a few inquisitive looks Soma saw no reaction to the faceless man’s announcement.
Once Raven Squad got halfway across the courtyard the gunship lifted off. A formation of fighters roared overhead again, tracing streaks of color behind them. Soma marched forward, keeping his eyes forward on a shadowy covered balcony that stretched over their entrance into the building.
Soma heard “conta—!” and then watched as Private Doff’s helmet exploded. Doff’s head rolled to the left, his arms going slack. His repeater hit the cobblestones, and then fell to the ground. Someone screamed. Soma lifted his repeater, looked right and saw flashes coming from a second-story window.
“Contact right!” Soma called. “Get to cover!”
He reached for Remnant but she ran. “Remnant!” he called and rushed to catch her again, but several bolts of plasma exploded between them. He turned and started laying bursts of fire into the window. He looked again, even as he fired and saw the girl wasn’t trying to escape, but that she had run to the side of his fallen marine. She knelt beside him, and was talking to him, shouting in his ear against the deafening booms of combat. Despite what looked like an instant kill, Doff was moving, writhing.
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