by Gun Brooke
Roshan had started to agree when a double door behind two columns opened. Resistance leaders, fewer than there should’ve been, began to enter and sit down. The many empty chairs spoke for themselves, and Roshan exchanged grim looks with the other rebels. Where are they? Dead, all of them? Prisoners?
Vespes, the joint cell leader of Ganath and the most senior-ranking officer in the building, remained standing by the large view screen in front of them. Not quite powered up yet, it glimmered in nuances of blue behind the tall, white-haired man, creating a ghost-like appearance. “Fellow rebels, members of the resistance,” he began in a traditional way, “it’s with mixed feelings we gather today. So many of our comrades have fallen or are missing in action, yet we’re on a threshold of new times, with new hope on the horizon.”
Horizon? Roshan wanted to elbow the superior officer, make him sound more positive, more optimistic. They didn’t need to hear that it was as far away as the horizon. We need to hear that it’s just around the corner, damn it!
“We have to plan. We need to proceed meticulously and carefully. This window of opportunity, the promise of help from the Supreme Constellations, brings hope, but we must be realistic,” Vespes continued.
Roshan was sure every man or woman present had had realism shoved down their throats every bloody day since the occupation began. She found it increasingly difficult to keep quiet, but bit down hard on the tip of her tongue. A glance in Temmer’s direction also helped her remain quiet. Temmer shook her head almost imperceptibly and pulled her eyebrows together. Roshan couldn’t tell if Temmer was as impatient with Vespes’s choice of words as she was or was suggesting Roshan keep her cool.
“This is a rare moment. Some of you have been present during these special occasions, but most of you haven’t. Our leader, Boyoda, will join us via vision broadcast, thanks to some of our resistance technicians who risked their lives in space to repair the malfunctioning satellite.”
Roshan knew he was talking about her special space team, of whom she was very proud. Without them, none of this could take place. I hope Boyoda appreciates this fact—and that he has more guts and initiative than Vespes. Part of her refused to be impressed that she’d see the elusive Boyoda, as mythical as the majestic bird that had given its name, boyoda, to their resistance leader and its image to the O’Saral Royales’ crest. Many times, Roshan, Jubinor, and Doc had half joked that perhaps Boyoda wasn’t a real person at all. And now he was going to appear. Roshan squinted against the flickering blue light on the screen. Come on, boss. We can sure use some of your magical sense of what’s going to happen.
The screen crackled with static and the image went black. Roshan held her breath until a lean figure appeared. Simultaneously, the inner mission room darkened and the audience was lit up from behind, to ensure everyone’s confidentiality by obscuring their faces.
After five seconds of more static noise, the still form on the screen spoke. A voice, slightly distorted by a two-way scrambler, which made it sound faintly metallic, addressed them. “Fellow Gantharians, members of the resistance. I am Boyoda.”
*
Andreia counted the blurred outlines of twenty-eight senior members of the Ganath local resistance present at HQ. Visual and audio signals were deliberately distorted to conceal identities. All data was encrypted, and two of the young officers had developed a program that allowed for constant frequency hopping. So far, much to the Onotharians’ frustration, the rebels’ communications had never been compromised. This was a point of pride among the resistance since communications of any type not regulated by the occupiers were strictly prohibited.
As Boyoda, she knew no individual names or faces, other than those of the five men and women operating the small, underground facility she broadcast from. Her engineering officer, whom she only knew as Ily, was her best-kept secret. Andreia relied on Ily’s ability to create technical solutions designed to keep her true identity hidden. It had taken her more than five years to find, and trust, the people she now worked with, and she knew they would give their lives to protect her. In fact, one of their predecessors already had.
She swallowed quickly, eager to sound certain and in charge, even if her jaw muscles tightened at the thought of what had happened to the other twenty-four, not to mention the more than six thousand rebels rounded up planetwide.
She knew that her actions as a double agent had helped so many missions be successful over the years, but she also took every failed mission personally.
“Vespes here, Boyoda. What are the total numbers? Do you know yet?”
Andreia didn’t have to ask what he meant. “The last I heard, we’re missing more than six thousand members. Entire cells have been destroyed. We haven’t found out how many have been killed or incarcerated, but I’m sure I’ll have more intel in the next few days.”
“Where do we go from here?” Vespes continued.
“We can’t sit around and wait for numbers. They’re expecting us to go into hiding. I say we attack.” A low hum distorted the voice of the person who sat next to Vespes, but it was clearly female.
“And your call sign?” Andreia asked, leaning forward toward the screen. She knew her own voice was scrambled to a higher degree. It was imperative nobody even knew her gender.
“Paladin.”
Andreia nodded slowly. She had heard this call sign before, countless times, in fact. Paladin was one of the senior officers who had been part of the resistance as long as Andreia herself. The woman was a legend, whose fearless raids had generated her quite a fan club within the resistance, and Andreia had to concede that Paladin deserved it. “I heard you were injured and treated in one of the Merealian camps.”
“I was. I’ve recovered. What’s our next operation?”
Andreia pulled out a small computer console and attached it to a secure station beside her chair. After docking it and logging on, she pulled up a bulleted list. “You know the Supreme Constellations is arming for a confrontation with the Onotharians. In fact, my intel shows it’s already begun at the SC border. Onotharians took a squadron of ships, allegedly to try and free Ambassador M’Ekar, but to no avail. When SC rattles their weapons, even our occupiers notice.”
“They’ll get here, but we may lose a lot of good people while we wait. Time’s running out if we want to intercept any prison transports.” Paladin spoke urgently.
“I’m aware of this.” Andreia knew the woman bordered on insolence, but recent events made her reaction excusable. “However, to execute an operation without adequate planning and preparation is risky, with a high probability for failure. At this point in the war, failure is not an option. I’ve developed two courses of action. Whichever one we choose will require surgical precision. Collateral damage must be kept to a minimum. I want as little bloodshed as possible.”
“Perhaps it’s this method, this almost pacifist approach, that’s caused our conflict to last for almost three decades!” another voice, male and raspy through the scrambler, exclaimed.
Andreia saw the contours of the resistance member’s profiles as they turned to look at the man who had just spoken.
“You’re out of order, Jubinor,” Vespes admonished.
“The Onotharians are a callous, uncaring people, with greedy, calculating minds. They don’t do anything unless it benefits them. We should use their tactics. Speak to them in a language they understand!” Jubinor objected.
Paladin rose, and Andreia watched her put her hands on her hips. “At what cost? Do these people, the callous, greedy, and calculating Onotharians, sound like anyone you’d like to emulate?”
“I’ve fought for the resistance for more than twenty years!” Jubinor spat.
“So have I!” The two figures, outlined by the indirect light, approached each other. The woman placed both hands on Jubinor’s arms. “We will not compromise our values.”
Andreia’s throat constricted and she had to swallow repeatedly. So much hatred for her race, for her, if they knew who she was. In
fact, many Gantharian-born Onotharians loved this world and its people. They were as much victims as the indigenous people.
“Take your seats,” Andreia said, and fought to keep her voice under control. “We don’t have time for an internal squabble.
“Both Jubinor and Paladin have valid points. We need to change our tactics without compromising our values, and it’s time to move things up a notch. We’re low on manpower, and our window to carry out any type of rescue operation is extremely small. Review the data that will arrive in code on your console, Vespes, and decide which one best meets our needs. At that point we will begin deliberate planning and operations. Decide quickly. The window of opportunity will commence in sixteen lunar cycles.”
“Understood. When can we meet again and confer about details?”
“Once you have made your decision, contact me through our regular channel. Because we are operating on such a tight schedule I’ll need a liaison, someone I can call on a secure channel. An experienced senior officer who can expedite the necessary plans and preparations that will be needed.”
“I agree. Paladin is our most seasoned member, apart from myself.”
Something about this suggestion disturbed Andreia, either the woman’s posture or her strong, unbending tone of voice. “Very well. Paladin, outfit yourself with a Class 1 transmitter and use encryption mega-five. I’ll contact you tomorrow evening, and we’ll change channel encryption according to protocol.”
“Yes, Boyoda.” Paladin obviously had herself under control again. “Will I rendezvous with you at some point?”
Andreia forced herself not to flinch. She knew the group of resistance leaders could see her much more clearly than she could see them. “I doubt if we’ll need to meet in person, at least not at first. We’re in a vulnerable situation, much more so now, with the latest raids.” Andreia refused to let the rush of guilt flood her when she thought about how she’d failed to deter the covert Onotharian operation. “However, when the Supreme Constellations becomes involved, we may have to.”
Paladin seemed to be lean and muscular. As tall as the man next to her, she resolutely folded her arms in front of her. “Very well, ma’am. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“Good. Now, we have another issue. For the first time since the occupation, an Onotharian chairman is visiting Gantharat.” Andreia paused, examining the cell members’ posture for signs of surprise. The men and women in the first row of seats didn’t move, but the ones sitting in the back turned toward each other, as if astonished.
“I heard Chairman M’Ocresta is here,” Paladin replied. “A rare opportunity.”
Andreia nodded, her voice solemn. “It is. We’ll talk more about this later.”
“What can’t you talk about in front of the capital’s senior officers?” Jubinor interrupted. “I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”
“Jubinor!” Paladin growled. “You surprise me. The reasons should be obvious.”
Andreia agreed. Jubinor’s shortsighted outburst could signal that he was cracking under pressure.
“Jubinor,” Andreia now said as she rose to her feet. “Surely you appreciate why we have to be so careful. If my identity becomes known, you’ll fumble in the dark, and then you’ll have to fight the same dirty way as the Onotharians do, harming innocent and defenseless people.”
The man sat down, seeming less disgruntled. Paladin also took her seat, crossing her legs.
“Fine, you’ll receive my transmission to the main computer before morning. I’ll be here for a few more hours, working. In the meantime, we need to come up with contingency plans, covering every possible eventuality, if we hope to save our captured comrades.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll get right to it,” Vespes said, and rose. Bowing deeply, he spoke the traditional words. “Boyoda, well met again.”
“Well met, Vespes,” Andreia replied. She turned her attention to the tall Gantharian woman next to him. “Paladin, until later, then.”
“I’ll be available throughout the night, ma’am.”
“Boyoda out.”
Sweat poured down Andreia’s neck under the black hood as she punched in the command to shut off the view screen. She knew she had to wear the hood until she got home, but she’d love to tear it off and unbraid her hair that itched so badly. The tight-fitting head covering was all that kept her from risking complete exposure, which would lead to utter failure. She was far too well known and, she surmised, hated, to let anyone see her face. Still, this new working relationship with Paladin might change that. Soon she’d have to trust her, a respected member of the resistance, with her secret, and Andreia shuddered at the thought. This cloak-and-dagger routine had become second nature over the years, and the mere thought of revealing herself to anyone made her skin prickle.
She swung her chair around to face her desk. “Desk light on, point-nine illumination.” She began to pull up reports and other documents on her computer, proud of how she, with Ily’s help, had managed to outfit her Onotharian state-of-the-art piece of technology with enough Gantharian seals to ensure that the resistance could decode the messages. The resistance worked with far less advanced equipment, having progressed almost not at all during the twenty-five years of occupation. Andreia loathed how the people she considered her countrymen suffered under the oppression of the people whose blood ran through her veins.
If she could only figure out how to mobilize the Gantharians, to ready them for the war the Supreme Constellations was about to engage in for their sake. Andreia scrutinized several documents before she saw a possibility. Energized, she straightened her back and leaned closer to her computer screen. Daring? That was putting it mildly. Doable? Perhaps. Worth a try? Definitely.
Chapter Five
Roshan attached the Class 1 transmitter to her belt and pulled her jacket down to cover it. Boyoda hadn’t called yet, and Roshan had to return home before dawn. Traveling these roads during the day was too risky.
“So you’re the chosen one,” a voice said behind Roshan as she put her gloves on.
Roshan glanced over her shoulder at Temmer. “Seems like it.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that Vespes skipped my presence when he volunteered you. I’ve been a member of the senior staff longer than you, after all.”
Roshan didn’t know how to tell Temmer that Vespes probably considered her too old, and perhaps too indecisive. Her skill as a medical planner was indisputable, but her tactical skill in combat wasn’t as astute. Perhaps Temmer’s brilliance only soared when she thought about saving lives.
“True, but only by a few lunar cycles,” Roshan agreed. “Vespes nominated the person he felt was best for the job. And you know my allegiance is rock solid.”
Temmer frowned. “You seem tired and a bit…off, after the last turn of events, though. Sure you’re up for this? Boyoda’s bound to ask you to do magic.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Roshan injected dead certainty into her voice. She knew when to sound self-assured, and this was one of those times.
“Fine, then.” Temmer turned her palms up.
A muted beep from the transmitter at Roshan’s belt interrupted them. “Excuse me.” As Roshan walked away, she peeled her right glove off and pressed a button on the transmitter, engaging the inserted earpiece. Made of 95% human membranes, it wouldn’t show up on scanners when she entered secure buildings. “Paladin.”
“Boyoda. I need your input. Vespes just contacted with me with his decision on which course of action we’re going to proceed with.” Boyoda’s voice sounded scrambled and low-pitched over the audio link. “I’ve come up with some initial planning factors and estimates that need to be fleshed out. This mission will take some ingenuity and, of course, will be dangerous.”
“What’s new,” Roshan said. “Everything I’ve done in the resistance has been dangerous, more or less.”
“More, rather than less, Paladin, I’m sure.” Boyoda was quiet for a while. “I need to transmit these
documents, and they’re for your eyes only. I’ll encode them, but after you’ve read them thoroughly, destroy them.”
“Affirmative, Boyoda.”
“Excellent. Class 1 transmitters have a memory chip, if I’m not mistaken.”
“No, you’re correct, Boyoda.” Roshan thought she detected a trace of fatigue, or was it resignation, in Boyoda’s voice. Pressing a command into the transmitter, she continued. “Ready to accept the document.”
“Transmission in progress.”
A blue beam that glowed around the device on Roshan’s belt confirmed that data was downloading. She’d have the computer read it back to her on the way home, then delete it completely. “Is that all for tonight, Boyoda? I need to get home before sunrise.”
“So do I. Contact me tomorrow evening with your response.”
“Understood. Paladin out.” Roshan tucked her jacket down around the transmitter and made sure her small computer was safely stored in her inner breast pocket. The computer automatically connected to the mesh-wiring in her garments, which interfaced with her transmitter and earpiece. She then headed toward her hoverbike.
Mounting the bike, she powered the engines and sped through empty back alleys and deserted country roads, the early morning air was crisp around her. She was tired, but eager to examine Boyoda’s documents. It was extraordinary to work directly with the mythical leader of the resistance. Over the years, the Gantharians had progressed from simply admiring her to worshipping her as a major hero. Roshan knew Boyoda had to have extraordinary insight into the Onotharians’ business and tactics, as well as an extraordinary tactical sense that helped the Gantharians mastermind their assaults against military installations.
Roshan turned a corner, tired and lost in thought, and was relieved to see that the small dark road was empty. It led to one of the well-hidden entrances to her labyrinth of tunnels, but she was debating if she should take the hoverbike across the fields to save time, when a sudden movement to her right caught her attention. Roshan slowed down and stopped as three sleek hovercraft pulled out from the trees farther down the alley. They faced her and seemed to wait for her to approach them. Roshan scanned the area and saw two hoverbikes similar to her own pull up on her left.