by Chris Fox
senses. It smelled like strawberries, mixed with something pungent and native, deep in scent like cardamom. Najima had only been around dhang smoke a couple times, and she never got used to the strange sensation it brought upon her, as if she were miles away from her own senses.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make time for you today," he said slowly, savouring his smoke. "This is definitely the biggest mission we've organized since we came to Nanda. There's no room for error."
A colourful flag hung above the cot: two bands of red on the top and bottom, with a green band in the center, punctuated in the middle of the flag with a golden star encompassed on either side by two golden half moons facing inward. Najima had never seen one of these in real life before - only in history books. It was the flag for The Republic of Rangpur, Otto's home.
"Like it?" Otto asked, and Najima realized she was staring at the flag, mouth open, practically drooling. How long had she been looking at the flag? It must have been the dhang.
"Sorry. Not used to all that," motioning at his pipe.
Otto laughed that laugh. "But you didn't answer the question." He tipped his pipe to the flag. "Like it?"
"I can't say I know a whole lot about it, honestly." For some reason these words came out bitter to Najima. Of course she knew about it, at least what she was taught, mostly in the form of facts and figures. An upstart nation, a sudden rebellion against the empire, a war that lasted only hours. The Quell, billions dead, refugees streaming to all corners of the galaxy. All saddening to read, but all abstract. Nothing Najima could say about Rangpur could compare to Otto's experience. "Sorry," she said obligingly.
Another laugh. "It's fine. It's always interesting watching people look at it. That flag, there," he said with a point of his finger, "is part of why I love flags so much. They're like art - no, they're better than art. Because they tell a story by an image. You have history, culture... life, really, condensed into a little rectangle." He stopped talking while he took a drag from his pipe, and turned away from Najima to look at the flag like a former lover he hadn't seen in years. Najima stared with him, lost between the dhang and memories of history readings in her home, on her bed. Memories of the touch of warm skin while reading textbooks.
"You look sad," Otto said, facing her. Najima had drifted again. She only just realized she had brought her leg onto the bed, and was holding it close to her chest, her finger twiddling her anklet.
"Sorry, again... Just thinking."
"Is that your flag?" he asked, pointing to her anklet. She put her foot back to the ground.
"In a way."
"You shouldn't be ashamed of it."
"I'm not. Just don't like thinking about it so often..." Najima mumbled.
Otto replied fast, "Even though it's all you want to think about?" She nodded her head solemnly. He took another long drag before he spoke again. "We didn't realize what we were doing, you know. I've read some of those history books they give kids. People say we wanted to change the world. But honestly, we just wanted to be be free."
"Free from what?" Najima asked, looking at the flag again. "The Empire?"
"No, more basic than that. I was an Imperial before all that. I loved the Empire. Years of service in the military and everything. I was proud to be an Imperial. But... nobody had ever done what Rangpur tried to do. We were the first republic in all history, at least the history we know about. We were the first people who said, 'You know, we don't need your government to tell us what to do. We're perfectly capable of doing that ourselves.' And for wanting to be free, we are massacred. What does that say about the Empire?" Otto grew solemn again, and looked at the smoke that rose from his pipe.
"Is that why you fight? Because you loved what the country was trying to be."
Otto shook his head. "It's more cheesy, really." He fiddled with the terminal on the desk, until he brought up a picture of a beautiful woman, his wife. Her ethnicity was instantly recognizable as Eelami. No brown or olive skin; instead, unblemished white, blue eyes, and blonde hair, with naturally bright red lips. She looked happy in her picture. "I fight for her."
"I'm sorry. What happened to her?"
Otto took a moment and smoked some more dhang. "She was caught in the Quell. The Empire was burning every planet in the system with that big ship of theirs, the Caustos. We were in the capital, the last planet to be hit.
“It was all chaos. All of the soldiers under my command were out of contact, so we were just trying to get out as fast as we could. Before take-off, the ship we boarded took some damage. It was bad, but not bad enough to ground the ship. We got past the atmosphere, and past the Imperial Navy. But the ship was scarred. And the hull breached. A huge gash ripped open in the cargohold where all the evacuees were. We wouldn’t have been able to see her body out of the windows... she must have fell back down to the planet."
"But I fight for her. During the escape, I was being called up to the bridge - I had to help them plot the safest route out of the system. I was with her before that. And when I had to leave, I didn’t kiss her. I didn't tell her I loved her. I wanted nothing more to be there for her, right then. To let her know that it was going to be okay. You know what she did? She told me that she needed to help others with their wounds. The last time I saw her, she ran to help someone else. She didn’t even take a second to tell me she loved me, because she knew I knew. And she knew that somebody else needed her love so they wouldn’t die.”
He coughed a bit on the smoke in the air before continuing. “She lived every second of her life for others, just like that. And all I did was live my life for her. Now it's my turn to do as she did."
Najima looked at the flag once again and quietly laughed. "That was just a little cheesy."
"I'm a cheeseball," he said with a grin, shaking off the last hint of sadness with a laugh. "Her word, too."
"I can tell you loved her a lot."
"I can tell you love someone, too. The question is," Otto said, standing straight, approaching her, and placing his hands on Najima's shoulders, "are you willing to make the galaxy a better place for them, with me? Are you willing to fight for the freedom that everyone deserves? Are you willing to do anything to help these people? Will you help us, Najima?"
Her instincts were right. She looked at this man, and saw a man who wanted to help. It must have been like the others said - she was just misinterpreting. And he needed her help, to help the people of Nanda. She pushed against Otto's powerfully muscular arms and stood up as well. She was still only to the height of his shoulders, and had to look up to match his gaze. "I'll help you."
"That's the spirit I like to hear," Otto said as the door opened and Brat entered the room. Otto approached Brat and asked, "Are we ready?"
"And waiting," Brat replied. "Whenever you're ready to move, everything should work flawlessly."
"Wait there, Brat. Najima just agreed to helping us out."
Najima's head was still foggy from the dhang when she spoke, "You never told me the plan, though. What exactly did we steal the other night?"
"We're on the cusp of something big, Najima. Brat have I been talking a lot, and he’s made some good points. We need some real, big action to show the Empire we mean business. No more thieving and destroying property. But with big need comes big action. Have you heard about the parade that’s going to be in town?”
“I did, the other day, before I met you all. Some politician making his victory rounds, or something?”
“That’s right,” Otto said with a nod. “The governor, the CP commissioner, the mayor, and other officials, all in one place. A perfect time to give the Empire a little chaos. So we're going to hide out there, and detonate a bomb hidden in that Doyel Brat stole. Take off the head of the local government with the click of a button."
Najima's heart dropped like glass. The words were so harsh she almost felt like she was physically punched.
Otto began walking back to his terminal from the door where Brat still stood. "With the explosives from those crates we
stole, Bri was able to construct a bomb powerful enough to wipe out those stupid Imperial fat cats. When all the players have arrived on the scene, we'll detonate the bomb remotely from nearby. All we need to do is be around to watch the fun, and make sure nothing goes wrong."
"I trusted you."
Otto al-Kara's excitement turned to curiosity. "What was that?"
Najima drew her gun, and the ksshk sound of her holster and gun separating tensed her muscles. She aimed the pistol his chest. "I trusted you!" she yelled.
"Know how to use that toy?"
"Shut up, Otto! How dare you!"
Otto walked forward, until the barrel of the gun was pressed against his chest. He looked down at her with that magnetic grin, now twisted out of shape.
"I thought you agreed to do anything."
"You've had this planned since the beginning! You wrapped me up in this since I came here. And you knew I would never agree to this. You knew, Otto! It's bad enough with a bomb. But at a parade?! There will be innocent people there, Otto. Not just government officials, but civilians! What is wrong with you?!"
It felt like Najima's ribs had caved in. The hurt of Otto's deceit was almost unbearable. Najima grit her teeth, trying to think of words to reason with al-Kara, until he responded again.
"You know it's the only way, Najima. The only way to help fight the Empire is by hitting them where it hurts."
Whatever sadness Najima felt