by L. E. Thomas
His stomach turned. "Why did she risk all that to get to me?"
Viper shrugged. "She said you were worth it, said you were the key to the next step in the fight and the exodus she kept talking about. Never told us the details. I don't even think she told Kad because he was against risking her life for a hunch she could find you. She grew more and more secretive as time passed, saying she needed you and this crap. But people believed in her. Her reputation grew among the resistance across the planet, people looking to her for guidance. She was always plotting, losing sleep, trying to find out how to save her people. Guess I'll never know now what she had planned."
Nat bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to ask the next question. "Viper," he whispered, "where is my Da? Is he alive?"
Viper looked at him, twirling a bottle cap between his fingers. "Yeah, he's alive."
Nat closed his eyes. "I want to see him. I need to see him."
"Impossible."
"Why?"
"I shouldn't tell you."
Nat grabbed Viper's shoulder. "You have to tell me!"
Viper gripped Nat's hand, hard, and slapped it to the bar. "I don't have to tell you a damn thing. You know how many people we've lost trying to get to you? How many people ran for the hills after that attack at the river?" He clicked his tongue. "I think the Tarrafa resistance may have died that night."
Nat shook his head. "Why? Why would Tress and Da convince so many others to die trying to save me?"
To Nat's surprise, Viper leaned his head back and laughed.
"You think that's the only reason?" He wiped at his face. "No, it wasn't just love for one's son or brother. They knew getting to an Academy cadet would be valuable to the cause. They were certain the fair-haired Natty-nat would never swallow the poison of the Zahl Empire. Man, if they could see you now."
Nat's stomach twisted with guilt. He remembered Jet's disappointment when he turned down the offer to help the resistance, his slumping shoulders and deflated face so clear it was like it was right in front of him.
"Too bad Jet had to find out the truth right before he died," Viper said, his voice laced with venom.
"I never—"
"Don't even try it," Viper said, staring back at the mirror. "I heard him calling for you on the riverbank, Nat. I heard it all. He cried for you to make the right choice. It was at that moment I knew you had betrayed him. I was glad Tressa didn't have to hear it. Or your Da."
Rubbing his palms down his cheeks, Nat stared back at his reflection, ashamed. "Where is Da?"
Viper cleared his throat. "I'll tell you this," he said, glancing over his shoulder, "but it could get me killed."
Nat looked at him. "Okay."
"Dedrick Rowe nearly died the day you were taken," Viper said, his voice so low Nat had trouble making it out over the music. "The entire organization had lost its leaders in the invasion, leaving a vacuum at the top. But Kad took it over, fueled by the rage of losing you and your Ma. When she was killed during the rescue, he thought all he had was Tressa and me and the resistance—nothing else. For a long time, Tressa was the only person who thought you were alive. Kad and I didn't believe it, but we wouldn't crush her resolve. And then it turned out she was right."
Nat thought back on the blur of the past years at the Academy. All that time he’d spent looking out at the transformation of his home city, believing his family was gone, and they were out there all along, fighting against the invaders. So much time lost ...
"When he lost Tressa to Atheron," Viper said, rubbing the stubble on his chin, "I guess he'd had enough. He turned over control of the cells to Jet and planned on getting Tressa out no matter what the cost. It was what he was working on the night Jet took you—he was trying to break out Tressa before the shuttle launch. When he failed to find a way, he got himself assigned to a Zahl labor detail and was shipped off to Atheron to get her out. That was the last we heard of him. I don't think he even knew Jet had found you. News traveled too slow. Didn't matter, anyway."
"Why?"
"Kad was possessed about saving your sister. It was all he could think about. He knew what they had done to your ma. He wasn't going to let that happen to his little girl. If he had known about Jet nabbing you, maybe he would've stayed. Maybe he would have used you to help plot her escape. I don't know. Shame, too, cause our little resistance had just gotten a powerful shot in the arm."
"What's that mean?"
Viper looked at him, his eyes sparkling. "We had made some new friends. That's all I'm going to say about it."
"New friends?" Nat frowned. "Like Ceroqans?"
"Think bigger. I—I’ve said too much." Viper abruptly stood and clinked his glass against Nat's bottle. "I'm glad you haven't turned completely."
"Where are you going?"
He shrugged. "Home."
"But—"
"But what?" Viper stared down at him. "Seriously, what do you want? You're on leave. You wander out here to the docks. Why?"
Nat sat in stunned silence.
"See?" Viper shook his head. "You don't even know what you want, man. There's nothing left for you to do. We had a good run, even thought we might take back what we've lost, but the resistance is over. Your Da and sister are as good as dead on Atheron. Those few native Tarrafa sons and daughters still free are sulking low in the wilderness. The Zahl will find us all ... sooner or later. Without your sister, the rebellion is done."
He flipped a Zahlian credit onto the bar and walked out, leaving Nat sitting with his half-empty beer.
Chapter Fifteen
Nat sat on the edge of his seat in the Grand Auditorium, tension so heavy in the air as if he could smell it. Soola shifted in her chair, rubbing her sweaty palms together as Superintendent Colfax cycled through the endless list of names followed by primary assignments.
Today was the day.
He kept repeating the statement in his mind like a mantra. Years of training in near isolation would culminate in their first assignments in the next few minutes, all their efforts leading up to one moment. Out of the 288 cadets in the first class of Yesro Vraun, Nat had ended up at the head of his comrades—the best of the best in the assimilated world. He knew he would be assigned to fighter school and be one step closer to flying an Interceptor for the Zahl Empire.
Most cadets were assigned to bases on faraway planets and stations Nat had only read about in his sessions, exotic-sounding worlds with hard-to-pronounce names. The orders had few details other than names and departure dates, with most of the logistics being sent digitally to their files. Tox had said the announcement of assignments following the end of classes was a long-held tradition in the Zahl Navy.
Right now, however, Nat hated it and wanted it done.
"Soola Jenyvia," Colfax announced, his voice echoing. "Second Lieutenant assigned to the ARC Valiant. Departing the day after tomorrow. Congratulations."
Soola tensed, then hunched over. She buried her face in her hands, tears dampening her face. Without thinking, Nat draped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She rested her head on his chest. He couldn't tell if her reaction was one of excitement.
In the recent months, rumors swirled of the possible final destination for the cadets. Nat had heard every possibility from being assigned to OSC for ground combat to being a liaison for the Merchant Marines, to being shipped to the Legion—to the Zahl border, in reaction to the apparent tensions building up light years from Yesro Vraun.
But so far none had been assigned to an ARC—the first strike cruiser revered by their instructors.
"I'm happy for you," he whispered. "This is quite an honor."
"I guess," she said, sitting up straight and wiping her face. "I don't know what that means."
"It means you get to see the galaxy on the best vessel in the known universe," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "You'll spread law and order throughout the stars." He paused, wondering if she would believe his sales pitch. He added, "Better than staying here."
She cocked her hea
d toward him. "That much is certain."
They sat in stoic silence as the names continued, lost in thought. Nat considered the local developments in recent months.
The final collections of native workers had been transported out of the city in the middle of the night, freeing the capital city of the local "scourge." Now that Greeva had completely morphed into Mohal and the transition was complete, Zahlian officials wanted the native-borns out. The city itself now bore little resemblance to the one he grew up visiting. The remaining skyscrapers had been remodeled to the pointed spires connected by a network of transport tubes suspended hundreds of feet from the ground. The tubes had appeared during the first months of occupation in sparse intervals, but now crossed the skies like ligaments holding up the buildings.
Some tubes extended across the sea, others moving out over the wilderness to other cities like Mohal. As more tubes were added to the network, less shuttle traffic appeared over the buildings. Some said it was to limit the chances of a bombing by the resistance, but there seemed to be little evidence the rebel cells were still active.
Nat winced, remembering his encounter with Viper from months back. Even though the man had indicated the resistance had new friends, his sister's former flame said the resistance was gone, crushed under the power of the Zahl Empire. If Viper was to be believed, Tressa had been a critical leader in the local resistance, providing hope when she spoke to others of the next step in the fight or an exodus. And she had given it all up to save Nat for some reason, crumbling the resistance with her capture.
But there had been recent whispers of entire families vanishing from the relocation centers and re-education camps, barracks full of people at bed-check emptying by morning. Had the families decided to disappear into the wilderness, hoping they could live off the land and spend their final days on the run until the Zahl spread across the whole planet? Or was it something different? Had the resistance found a new leader?
He shook his head. Vanishing locals didn't concern him anymore. Graduation was here, and he was about to fly an Interceptor. The countless hours in the sims followed by endless exams were about to pay off. Some days, he even managed to not think of his family at all, focusing on the path before him. There was nothing he could do about the past. His future was with the Zahl Empire, and he wanted to excel.
"Nat Hodges," Colfax said, his voice booming. "Second Lieutenant. Assigned to the First Squadron, Yesro Vraun Logistics. Reporting tomorrow. Congratulations."
Nat felt like someone stomped on his chest. A logistics squadron?
Other cadets gasped, whispering to one another. Soola tensed next to him, her face flashing toward him.
He stared at his hands. A logistics squadron? They flew basic shuttlecraft, ferrying anything from munitions for the Marines to officers to ... transferring Interceptor pilots.
"That's a good assignment," Soola said in the same tone adults utilized for kids chosen last for the team at recess. "At least you don't have to leave home?"
"I wanted to leave home," he lashed through his teeth. He leaned back, regaining his composure. "I have to talk with Captain Tox. There must be some kind of mistake."
He stopped listening to the other assignments, the names droning on like white noise. But in the back of his mind, he realized not one cadet from the first Yesro Vraun class had been assigned to Interceptor school.
Not a single one.
The corridor filled with graduated cadets, all buzzing about their new assignments. They embraced as officers, all remnants of their old status as children of the planet they could not speak of—Tarrafa—vanishing in the excitement of the moment. One day, the planet would be completely forgotten.
After hugging Soola, Nat rushed through the crowd toward Tox. They had pinned one Zahlian wing wreathed in fire on his chest, denoting his newly-anointed status as a pilot in training, at the conclusion of the ceremony. Tox said it was an honor before Nat had to sit back down.
He glanced at the pin. It didn't seem like anything other than a badge of his failure to achieve what he had set out to do. Tox owed him an answer.
The Captain lingered at the end of the hall, speaking with other officers and laughing in his boisterous way.
"Captain!" he shouted, increasing his pace to a jog. "Captain Tox!"
Tox searched the corridor and found him, his face beaming to a wide grin. "Lieutenant Hodges," he said, extending his hand. "A well-deserved congratulations is in order." He nodded to the other men. "Do you know Superintendent Colfax and Admiral Bastek?"
Nat paused, conjuring up the last bit of control to stem his fury. "Ah, hello. Honor to meet you both."
Colfax stepped forward and shook his hand. "Hodges? Top of the class, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah," he glanced at Bastek. "And you thought these natives wouldn't amount to anything?"
Bastek scowled, lowering his gaze as he refused to extend a hand toward Nat. "We'll see, Colfax. We'll see." He waved his hand toward Tox. "See you at the reception, Captain."
The two men left, marching down the hall as if they tried to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Nat. The quiet—and sometimes not so quiet—prejudice had been a part of his life at the Academy whenever he ventured away from his fellow cadets. He didn't care at the moment.
"I'd like to speak with you for a moment, Captain Tox," he said, peppering his tone with respect but struggling to keep his voice down. "If you have the time."
Tox glanced at this watch. "I believe we could make that happen. The reception isn't for a couple hours." He tilted his head toward the corridor. "Let's go to my office."
"Thank you."
They walked through the corridor with the high arched ceilings, windows on either side revealing the sun setting over Mohal and bathing the skyline in a reddish-purple light. Bureaucrats and business people who had attended the ceremony hopped into tubes at varying intervals, the technology whisking them away to other parts of the world in a matter of seconds.
As they passed a tube and Nat watched the hatch hiss shut over a woman in a crimson pantsuit, Tox said, "I figured you might want to speak with me. You should know only six in your class received a chance to go to extended flight school. It's quite an honor."
"So you said."
Tox shot him a glance but kept quiet as he reached his office door. The mechanism dilated and opened to his cramped office with the circular window overlooking the Academy grounds. The network of tubes sparked to life over the skyline beyond as Tox waved him inside, gesturing to the black chair in front of the spartan desk.
"Please sit," Tox said, pouring himself a glass of water.
"I'd rather stand, sir."
He sighed. "Just sit, Lieutenant. There's no need for disappointment. This should be a day of—"
"How could you do this to me?" he demanded, blood rushing to his face. "You knew what I was striving for, what I wanted to do? It’s—"
"Not fair?" Tox laughed. "Please tell me you're not about to complain that life's not fair. I would have thought you had learned that lesson a long time ago."
Nat collapsed into the seat and glared out the window. "Why are you doing this to me? I thought you supported me. I have tried so hard, done everything you people have asked of me. For what?"
"You people? We are all on the same side now, Hodges."
"You know what I mean."
Tox set the glass of water down and pressed his hands on the desk. "Do you think everyone who wants to be an Interceptor pilot just gets that chance? Hmm? The most powerful space fighter in the galaxy?"
"But I thought the Empire had a pilot shortage? You made it sound like it was a possibility. I slaved away to earn the spot at the top of the class and—"
"You just got an education from one of the best systems in the history of the known galaxy, Lieutenant. You've learned more than you ever would have in any other possibility." He pointed out the window. "You think others like you out there at the relocation centers or camp
s can even touch the level of training and development you've received here? Or what if the Zahl had never arrived and you continued in your backward native schools? Get your head out of your rear for a moment and just think of that! You received an education, Hodges. You are now an officer in the greatest military force in the universe. Act like it."
Nat frowned but held his retort. "I wanted to fly, Captain. I appreciate the opportunities provided by the Empire."
"Then you should show it," he said, taking a drink. "If you had acted like that in front of Coflax and Bastek, we'd be having a different conversation. At least you had the wherewithal to keep your mouth shut out there. Stars."
Nat watched the glorious rays beaming into the city. The orbiting Justice came into view over the western horizon, the primary cannon visible even from this distance. He suddenly thought of Soola and her orders to board the Valiant. Within a standard Zahlian month, she could be on the other side of the sector or farther.
He took a deep breath. "I really wanted to see the universe, Captain."
Tox swished the water around his mouth. "I know, but I don't think you're grasping the entire picture here."
"I'm not?"
"No," he said, his mouth tightening into a smile. "The means are not yet available here on Yesro Vraun to facilitate advanced battle tactics or fighter pilot school. Those plans are in the works as decisions are made at the higher level. In the meantime, you log hours of actual flight time and get your wings. There's nothing saying you couldn't transfer to fighter school at a later date."
"Will they let a, um, person like me join?" He shook his head. "I'll be honest with you—I don't think I could ever rise above the taint of being a native-born son, Captain."
"I did."
His jaw dropped. "Pardon?"
Tox smiled. "I don't want to give my life story," he said, lowering his voice, "but I am not true born. I came from a world like this, and I was about your age when the Zahl came to show us the light."
"I had no idea. Where was your world?"