“Understood.” Jia sighed. “Remember, we did do ATW training.”
“In a simulation. I know you’re a prodigy and all, but still…” Erik shrugged.
Jia gave him an annoyed look. “You’re the one who wanted to skip training. We can spend a few weeks working up to it.”
“You’re right.” Erik gave her a sheepish grin.
Jia stood on the edge, taking slow, even breaths. “This is one way to make sure we’re not afraid of heights, and it’s nice to do something that pushes us to the edge but doesn’t involve someone or something trying to kill us.”
She spread out her arms and dropped off. Erik rushed forward. He’d expected a countdown. That was what he got for not agreeing on a protocol.
With a quick leap, he left the platform and plummeted, his stomach complaining. It didn’t matter how hard a man trained; at the end of the day, gravity took its toll.
His heart rate kicked up, and a huge grin took his face over. There was something about freefalling on Earth that couldn’t be matched anywhere, not in space, not on the colonies.
It didn’t matter how many grav towers they put up. The human body knew where it was from and responded in kind.
Jia’s wings deployed between her arms, legs, and body. Her torso was angled up. With a quick thrust, her fall stopped, and she glided upward like a dark, majestic bird challenging the skies. Erik passed her before his wings deployed.
He allowed the glorious sensation of falling to continue before finally angling and activating his thrusters with a press of his thumb in his palm. A controlled burst had him climbing with ease. The lack of heavy winds made for easy flying—due to research on his part, or more precisely, asking Emma, depending on one’s perspective.
“It shouldn’t make a difference,” Jia murmured as she circled, her voice quieter than Erik would expect over the comm.
“What shouldn’t?” Erik asked.
“Seeing Neo SoCal like this,” Jia replied, continuing her gentle circular flight path. Her use of the thrusters was sparing and expert. “I was just looking at all this from the platform, but now it looks more beautiful. The only difference is that I’m in the air.”
Erik kept her in the corner of his eye but didn’t attempt any clever formation tricks. They hadn’t practiced much, and there was no reason to get close to her and risk an accident.
Emma could save them.
But it would sure ruin the moment.
“It’s like my brain appreciates the inherent danger of what we’re doing,” Jia continued. “And that in turn helps me realize that everything beneath me is fleeting and beautiful in its own way, especially here in Neo SoCal.”
“Why is that?” Erik asked, looking around. They were nowhere near the edge of the acceptable flight zone marked with red lines in his AR goggles, and Jia’s path was keeping her close to the building.
That worked.
“Because this place was destroyed and then rebuilt,” Jia explained reverently. “It was reborn like a phoenix after humanity’s ultimate weapon was used on it.”
Erik could not have cared less about the city beneath him, but he hadn’t been born there. Even if he’d lived there for a few years, it wasn’t his home, not like it was Jia’s. He was just enjoying the sensation of being one with the sky with minimal separation.
He angled down and increased his dive speed, then another well-timed thrust helped him gain altitude. The parabolic pattern continued, challenging Erik’s stomach but satisfying his brain.
“I think it’d be hard to fight in something like this,” Jia commented.
“We didn’t fight in any of the training scenarios, did we?” Erik asked.
Jia laughed. “No, all entry, but at least there’s no ridiculously tiny cave we have to fly into this time.”
“If this past month’s taught us anything, it’s that not everything has to be about training.”
“Hmm,” Emma sent. “There is a message you need to see. It’s nothing urgent, but I wouldn’t schedule another excursion for a while.”
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Erik asked with a snort. “I swear, it’s like she’s spies on us and waits for the most inconvenient time to mess with us.”
“Yes, it is her,” Emma replied. “But as I said, she discusses a meeting tomorrow, not today.”
“Then let’s enjoy what we are doing right now,” Jia suggested. “Tomorrow can be for terrorists. Today’s for flying.”
“And if any terrorists show up in the sky?” Erik asked.
There was no hesitation or concern in Jia’s voice when she replied, “Then I’ll knock them out of it.”
Chapter Thirteen
September 24, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
Damir Sokov was sitting in a dusty chair in the middle of a bombed-out store on the edge of the city, flexing his hands. Nervous energy suffused his body, making him want to jump out of his seat despite the rebel soldiers surrounding him.
He was having trouble focusing on the squad briefing even with the major operation coming up. The rebellion was going well, far better than he’d expected at the start of the month, but there were different metrics for success. If what he’d been told had been true, they wouldn’t still be fighting.
His commander gestured to three holographic maps displaying different parts of the city. The Free Samarkand Army’s surprise offensive had pushed the Army and the militia out of the major domes making up Sogdia. There’d been talk about the government attempting to seal the domes and cut the oxygen supply. Damir didn’t trust the government not to commit a major war crime, but there were system restrictions that made it complicated. The FSA still had a chance at victory, despite their missteps.
That should have made him happy, but doubt gnawed at the back of his mind, whispering and polluting his courage. The only way to overcome it was to face the truth, and that would require having words with his superior.
The commander pointed at a cluster of red pyramids on the map. “The Army’s concentrating on retaking the northwestern parts of the city. Our primary forces will continue to harass their troops, but those of us involved in the recent push into the west, including the squads in this room, will continue advancing. The more pressure we put on them, the less they will be able to concentrate their forces. If we keep pushing forward like we have, we can surround the bastards and rip them to shreds. If we destroy the bulk of the garrison, we can take out their bases, and then it’s all over. They’re not going to bombard the domes from orbit. The UTC can’t suck resources out of a destroyed colony.”
Damir surveyed the map, noting the highlighted areas under rebel control. Well, calling it “control” was an overstatement. They’d forced the government’s troops out of their areas, but there were few civilians left either. What was the point of a rebellion if the people didn’t feel safe? It also made it easier for the Army to counterattack. Less risk of collateral damage meant less propaganda and spin they had to come up with.
Different colored circles appeared on the map, and the commander pointed to each in turn as he continued the briefing. “Green, Red, and Orange squads will come in from this area and continue a general sweep and the elimination of all government forces. Blue, Yellow, and Purple squads will keep poking them. Hit and run, just enough to draw their attention. You know how dogs are when they get the scent of prey? They don’t know when to give up, and we can take advantage of that.”
More mission instructions followed, tied to marked paths on the map. Damir soaked it in, but as he sat there, he might as well have been watching a movie. It didn’t seem real. He’d been fighting for weeks, killing and nearly dying, but it was like a dream.
“Remember,” the command concluded, “if we can finish off the forces here, we’ll have all but sealed our victory. Our allies are doing a lot to disrupt reinforcements. We just need to make sure the Army can’t counterattack in Sogdia, and we can finish cleaning up the other cities.”
Damir frowned. Slowing re
inforcements wasn’t the same thing as eliminating them, and he didn’t trust mercenaries. They weren’t there because of their love of freedom. He had been surprised when he’d first learned about the FSA using mercenaries to supplement their forces.
“Dismissed,” the commander barked. “Be ready for the operation. I don’t want anyone wandering off and getting themselves picked off like Gemmison did. Remember, the UTC dogs don’t care about you or your freedom. They only care about killing you so the UTC can continue ruling this place from twenty light-years away.”
Weary-looking men and women rose from their seats and filed out of the room. The commander remained and peered at the maps, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Damir waited until everyone else departed before approaching him. He had concerns, but he didn’t want to undermine his superior in front of the others.
The commander looked up from the maps. “What is it, Sokov? If there was anything you didn’t understand about the briefing, you should have asked before.”
“It’s not the briefing.” Damir checked the room one last time to make sure they were alone. “Can I speak freely?”
“Always.” The commander clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re brothers in this. Family in blood and freedom. We have ranks because it’s necessary for planning, but when the rebellion is over, all who have fought will be recognized for their efforts and given important jobs in the new government.”
Damir stiffened. He hadn’t joined the rebels because he wanted a fancy government job after the war. A patriot fought with no promise of reward except the freedom of his brothers and sisters.
“Nobody’s staying anywhere we liberate.” Damir pulled away from the man. “Every area the FSA controls is a ghost town. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No, it doesn’t bother me. That’s expected. The government is providing heavy resistance. Civilians don’t want to stay where it’s dangerous. That’s common sense. Self-preservation.”
“So, they flee to government-controlled parts of Sogdia? That sounds like they don’t trust the FSA, but they trust the Army.” Damir shook his head. “I hear the same thing is happening in the other cities too, from our other brothers and sisters there.”
The commander frowned. “What’s your point? What are you getting at, Sokov?”
“This is supposed to be about freeing our people from oppression.” Damir narrowed his eyes. “But there are a lot of dead civilians out there. With all due respect, that might be one way to free a person, but I think most would prefer freedom and life.”
“Of course there are dead civilians.” The commander snorted. “Because those government dogs don’t care where and who they shoot at. As far as they’re concerned, anyone helping the rebels is a rebel, and they are free to target and kill them. That’s why we fight. The UTC pretends to be benevolent, but they’ll murder innocents to hold onto their power.”
Damir shook his head. “I’ve been trying to ignore this, but I can’t. I saw it myself. I tried to convince myself it couldn’t be what I was seeing, but my eyes don’t lie. I saw a SAM truck target civilian transports. The Army took it out, but we could have killed hundreds of civilians who were just trying to escape. That’s not right.”
The commander squared his shoulders and marched over until he was nose to nose with Damir. “You don’t know what you saw. You think you saw civilians? The government has all sorts of irregular forces in the area, including ghosts infiltrating and spying on us. Our forces don’t target innocents.”
“Bullshit.” Damir scoffed. “There aren’t hundreds of ghosts on New Samarkand!”
“Who the hell is in command here?” the other man thundered.
So much for being brothers. Damir didn’t flinch. They would decide after this rebellion what kind of world they would have once they’d pushed the UTC out. Darkness excused by pragmatism couldn’t be allowed to poison their freedom. They were rebels, not murderers.
“Last time I checked, this was the Free Samarkand Army, sir,” Damir replied, his voice a near-growl. “With an emphasis on free. I deserve to know what happened. All of our brothers and sisters do.”
The commander’s jaw clenched, and his face reddened. “You need to know what we tell you for missions. If we didn’t keep some secrets, the spies would be able to give all our plans directly to the garrison commanders.”
Damir looked down. It was a valid point. He couldn’t personally vouch for everyone in the FSA, and while there might not be hundreds of Intelligence Directorate spies on New Samarkand, that didn’t mean there were none. He decided to go in a different direction.
“There was only supposed to be guns and ammo supplied,” Damir replied. “And now we have those mercs running around. Why are we using mercs?”
The commander laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Because we’re outnumbered and outgunned and have been from the beginning. Most people talk about wanting freedom, but they’re not willing to fight for it. They’re not willing to die for it. Without those mercs, this rebellion would have been crushed by government forces in a week, and all our brave brothers and sisters would have thrown their lives away for nothing.” He shook his head. “I don’t see the problem using whatever tools are available if they’ll help you win. If the mercs win a fight, there are fewer soldiers we have to fight. If they lose, then we didn’t lose a brother or sister. Don’t be a fool. You have to think like a soldier, not like a man with a dream.”
“But they’re mercenaries.” Damir rubbed his thumb against his index finger. “All they care about is money. What’s to stop the government from offering them more money and making them turn on us?”
“The government will send them all to prison for insurrection if they stop helping us,” the commander countered. “They won’t dare negotiate with officials. Besides, they’re receiving payment from powerful and influential people who support our cause.”
“They could be offered amnesty. You can’t depend on soldiers who care solely about their bank account. You can only depend on someone fighting for something they believe in.” Damir clenched his hands into fists. “It’s not a surprise that those merc bastards were involved in the attack on civilian transports. Is that what this is? We let the mercs kill whoever and then we cover it up and ignore it because it wasn’t the FSA?”
Damir wasn’t sure mercs were involved in every incident he’d heard about, but their presence went a long way to explaining certain things. He wanted it to be true because it was a simple, direct explanation, one the FSA might be able to do something about.
The mercenaries might have been helpful at the start of the rebellion, but the government’s forces were weaker now. They could tell the mercenaries to hold. If they were still paid, they wouldn’t care about not risking their lives.
The commander glared at him. “All you need to know is that we’d lose this rebellion without their help. Ideals don’t win wars. Guns and missiles do.”
“I need to know we’re not helping to kill the people we’re trying to save. I can’t be the only one.”
“What?” The commander scoffed and stepped back. “You’ve lost your stomach for the fight because we didn’t win right away? Is that what this is? Don’t blame me for your idiocy.”
“It’s not that.” Damir shook his head, his heart pounding. “But it was people like you who said that once we started fighting, it’d be over quickly. We were told that most people on the colony wanted freedom, and after a couple days of fighting, the rest would fall in line, inspired. Now we have everyone fleeing any area we control, and we have civilians dying. Maybe even targeted on purpose, if not by us, then by the troops we’ve employed.”
The commander stared at Damir, his eyes accusing. He didn’t speak for a long while, leaving Damir to stare defiantly at him. This wasn’t the UTC Army. This was the FSA, a small collection of dedicated men and women who had volunteered to free their world. They might have to copy Army structures for efficiency, but that didn’t mean everyone in comm
and had experience equivalent to an Army officer’s. Some were there because of their political and financial contributions to the cause. Damir didn’t care. No one wanted freedom for New Samarkand more than he did, and he would do everything he could to maintain the purity of that freedom.
“What did you think liberation meant, Sokov?” the commander asked quietly. His volume increased with each word in his next sentence. “What do you think it takes to be free from tyranny? It takes blood, Sokov. Lots of it. Buckets and pools of it!”
“Fighting is one thing.” Damir cut through the air with his hand. “Killing soldiers is one thing, but what are we fighting for if we’re also killing civilians? We might as well be UTC dogs.”
“Innocent people die in war. That’s part of the sacrifice.” The commander kicked over a nearby chair. “You think we have any other choice?” he shouted. “The government didn’t give us one. Yes, there might be the occasional innocent person killed by mistake, but most of the so-called atrocities you are hearing about are either government propaganda or them doing it and blaming us. We’re only targeting the military and the government dogs. I don’t care what you think you saw. You’re mistaken, and you better not spread this around. It’ll damage morale.”
“I waited until everyone was gone so that wouldn’t happen.”
Damir ground his teeth. He knew what he had seen, not only with the missile launcher but also dead families in an area where there weren’t any government troops. Either the rebels were killing innocent people, or the mercs were doing it and the rebels were allowing it. It didn’t matter. Both were wrong.
“Good,” the commander continued. “I admire your passion, my brother, but we haven’t won yet, and we need every single one of our brothers and sisters until that victory. I need you not to worry about things you’re mistaking, and for you to get ready for your mission.” He sighed. “What would your father have said if he could see you now? Are you honoring him by questioning our cause? Remember what you’re fighting for, Sokov.”
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