by L. E. Thomas
"You didn't have to kill them," he said in a low voice. "They didn't deserve it."
"People die in war." She shrugged, tucking her tablet into her satchel. "Just ask Ma."
"The war's over."
"You're wrong," she said with a smile, waltzing down the ramp to her forklift. "It's just beginning."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nat adjusted course as the shuttle dropped out of Lutimite Space between Atheron and Yesro Vraun. Tressa, who had been dozing in the copilot chair, blinked away sleep as she sat forward and stared through the viewport. She cast him a sly smile, and for the briefest of moments, she looked like his sister from years ago. The one who let him sleep in her room during the storms or when they had watched a scary movie when Ma and Da went to dinner.
Nat looked away. He couldn't shake the image of the creatures in black led by the hooded man as they attacked Sapphire’s depot. "Is there another faction working with your resistance?"
"Our resistance, little brother. Ours."
He shuddered. "I've never seen anything like them."
"Me, neither."
Recalling his history classes, Nat cycled through the most exotic chapters detailing Zahlian Imperial history. Nothing could account for what he had just seen. No faction he had read about had weapons or armor like that.
"Forget about it for now," Tressa said as she leaned back in the seat."We have more pressing matters to attend to, and those attackers—whoever they were—gave us a chance for the perfect escape." She cleared her throat. “So, your transponder will allow us to pass through the security forces in orbit?"
Nat nodded, a cold sweat covering the back of his scalp. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep." He cleared his throat, his stomach churning. "The Zahl spend a lot of time encrypting their tablets and transponders. It's inconceivable to them to think someone would be able to hack it. We won't be bothered when we enter orbit and land at your base."
"Our base, little brother." She squeezed his knee. “You’re one of us now. Always have been. You just got a little lost for a while, but I knew you'd come back."
Nat winced as the Justice came into view around the curvature of the planet. Alpha Station loomed behind it, rotating slowly. Interceptor patrols glistened in the sunlight as they approached.
"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning closer to him. "Are you still bothered about what happened at the depot?"
"No," he lied, remembering the maintenance crew Tressa dispatched without hesitation. "I'm just nervous about the return journey."
She released a soft laugh. "You don't have to worry about anything. You're our secret weapon. They think you're one of them."
Nat felt like he could vomit all over the cockpit. A frigid sweat tingled down his body. If Tox found them …
And that was when he saw them—Interceptors bearing down on his position. He pushed the stick down at a dangerous angle toward Tarrafa. Sensor beams washed over the shuttle craft, penetrating their hull and probably providing a readout of everything they had on board. Why were they so interested in their craft?
"Everything okay?" Tressa asked, peeking into the cockpit. "What's wrong?"
He swallowed. "Had to alter course."
"What? Why?"
He blinked, unable to look back at her. "Curious Interceptor patrol. Didn't want to lead them back to the base if we didn't have to. Thought this would be better."
"Whatever you say, Natty-nat," she said, sitting in the copilot seat and strapping her harness. She stared out the forward viewport. "Where are we going?"
"Giving the patrol a wide berth," he said, his voice cracking.
She glanced at him. "Hey, it'll be all right. We've thought of everything. The Zahl believe the resistance has been defeated. There's nothing to worry about."
His throat constricting, he could only nod.
They continued their descent, Tressa marveling at the ocean and then the Oshua farms they passed over. She pointed to a vineyard near the Fallstrip River, saying how it appeared there had been no war out here at all.
Nat said nothing, continuing on his course to Molah. His palms sweated as they passed through heavy clouds for several minutes.
When the cloud cover broke, the Zahlian spires linked with tubes sprouted from Molah's urban landscape in the setting sun. They flew for the port on the far side of the bay once used by the Oshuan military. Two Interceptors passed overhead, close enough to see the missiles under the curved wings.
Tressa inhaled, her fingers moving to her lips as she stared forward. She shook her head, the blood draining from her face. A moment later, the Interceptors formed on their wings.
Her eyes bulging, she turned her head slowly to face Nat.
“They know!" she hissed through her teeth. “How?”
Ice formed around his heart as he stared at the magnificent Interceptors he knew he would now never be able to fly.
“I want to protect you, Tress,” he breathed, “but this bucket can’t contend with an Interceptor.”
Tressa’s chin trembled as she touched her fingers to her lips. “How did they know?”
“Cameras on Sapphire probably. They must have been watching me, Tress.” Nat shook his head, the possibilities running through his head. “Doesn’t matter now.” He gripped the stick. “I could try to flee. It’s possible they might not—”
“No.”
He blinked. “What?”
Rubbing her forehead, Tressa faced him. “Shoot me.”
“What?”
“You have the card from Jax, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I won’t—"
Tressa lunged toward him, gripping his shoulders. “You have to do this, Nat. Tell them I’m your prisoner. Tell them this was all part of your plan.”
Nat’s heart raced as he shook his head. “I’m not going to turn you over to—"
“There’s no time for this, Nat! It’s up to you now! Find a way!” She shook his shoulders. “Hurry! You’re the only hope the resistance has—turn me in!”
“No!” he screamed through his teeth. “I can’t do that to you! They’ll kill you!”
Tressa’s eyes flared. “Better me than all of us.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “Please, Nat. Do it now.”
Nat winced, yanking the card from his pocket and smashing the button. Blue light flashed in the cockpit, sparkling off the control board and wrapping around Tressa's body. She jolted back, her muscles twitching.
His face crumpled as he stared at her, chin quivering.
Clearing his throat, Nat transmitted in the open. “This is Terrier Two for Captain Tox. Do you read me?”
"Terrier Two, this is Mohal Control," the speaker popped. "Hodges, do you copy?"
Nat swallowed, wiping his eyes. "I copy, Captain Tox," he said, his voice wavering. "Package is secure. We will be landing shortly."
A platoon of Marines, clad in glistening Zahlian crimson armor, encircled Pad Four away from the primary administration building where Nat had met with Tox before departing for Atheron. The Marines stood with MC-17s across their chests, some complete with the grenade launcher addition, their eyes on his shuttle. In the midst of them all stood Tox wearing his full reds, pistol in a shiny black holster at his belt. A small crowd of officers and maintenance crew gathered near the administration building, their curious eyes watching his shuttle hover over the pad.
Nat braced himself. The Marines tightened their circle, weapons raised, as he shut down the engines. He keyed for the cargo ramp to lower and took a deep breath. He touched his sister's shoulder and squeezed as he prepared to begin his role as a loyal Zahlian pilot.
"Out of the shuttle!" Tox ordered as the cargo ramp settled onto the pad. "Hands raised where we can see them!"
Nat frowned. "It's just me coming out! Tressa is unconscious.”
"Come on, Lieutenant Hodges."
Unbuckling his restraints, Nat did as ordered. The Marines kept their weapons trained on him as he descended to the
pad. He stared at Tox.
"I did what you wanted," Nat said. "I infiltrated the resistance. My sister is on board, and I hope you will show her—"
"I'm well aware you have completed my mission," Tox said, his tone arrogant and sure. "After all, you were carrying out my orders. And I’m really glad Thumux followed my orders as well."
Nat frowned. “Sir?”
Tox grinned. “He secretly activated numerous transponders onboard the shuttle in the event you had other ideas. We were tracking you from Sapphire.”
Nat shuddered. Thumux was receiving secret orders from Tox? "But, sir, I wanted to make sure you knew I had every intention of carrying out—"
"Sergeant!" Tox barked, interrupting him again. "Secure any prisoners on board the shuttle immediately! Have any rebels bound and shackled. Prepare them for transport to the Justice."
"The Justice?" Nat asked, his chest tightening. "I thought she would be held here while—"
"You thought wrong. We have one of the top resistance leaders on board this shuttle, and she will be made an example to the rest of the galaxy as a reminder of what happens when you defy the Zahl Empire."
The Marines stomped into the shuttle, kicking over cargo containers and opening crates as if searching for more passengers.
"It's only my sister on board, I assure you," Nat said. "I—"
"Cannot be trusted completely," Tox said. "You have performed well for a native, but earning trust takes time."
Blood rushed to his face. "But I—"
"Anything, Sergeant?"
One Marine marched back down the ramp. "Most of the crates are empty, sir. The only container containing anything of value is a system disruptor."
Tox cocked one eyebrow. "Care to elaborate, Lieutenant Hodges?"
Nat's mind raced, his thoughts swimming into a blur as he remembered Tressa saying he was the final hope of the resistance. “I only know it was part of their plan." He hesitated. "She didn't elaborate."
Tox studied him for a pair of heartbeats, his narrow eyes squinting. "Very well," he said, gesturing for the Marine to continue. "Come with me, Hodges."
As Nat followed Tox, the Marines dragged Tressa’s unconscious body from the cargo shuttle. Nat winced as he watched her feet being towed across the tarmac toward the administration building.
"What is going to happen to her, sir?" Nat asked, following Tox away from the pad.
"She’s going to be brought to the Justice and will soon be transported back to the Prime Systems."
"What does that mean?"
Tox halted and stared at him. “It means I'm going to get a promotion off this dreaded rock. It means you have performed exactly as I had anticipated. My superior officers are thrilled at my ability to crush the local resistance by using local talents and saving precious resources. I will soon be transferred back to the Prime Systems away from primitive planets such as this."
Feeling as if he was sinking in quicksand, Nat bit his lip and asked, "No, sir, I meant what does this mean for my sister and me."
Tox smiled. "Your sister will be executed publicly in the Prime Systems as a deterrent to other systems contemplating a rebellion such as the one that attempted to occur here. You will continue your service as a cargo pilot in your current squadron—and be under intense scrutiny for the foreseeable future just in case you had returned without honorable intentions.”
Nat balled his hands into fists. "You said my family would be kept safe. You said the Empire would reward me by accepting me into fighter school. You—"
"I never said anything of the sort."
"Yes, you did."
Tox took a step forward. "Very well, do you have these agreements in writing? Hmm? Do you have a recording, perhaps, of my alleged agreement?"
Nat looked at his boots, unsure what to say. He wanted to strangle Tox. He wanted to beat the life out of him. Rage filled him but was soon replaced by humiliation. Tox had played him. Tressa had been right. Nat had made the right decision to help her, but it was too late.
"No?" Tox took a step back. "Then you will return to your duties. I have a debriefing to attend where I'm sure I will be hailed as the hero of Yesro Vraun, the one who brought peace and order to the Empire's newest world."
Nat watched him march away, his head tilted back and his chest swelling with pride. On the far side of the tarmac, he caught a glimpse of his sister's unconscious body being pulled onto a prisoner shuttle bound for the Justice.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"And then what happened, Lieutenant Hodges?"
As with all the questions over the past two hours, Commander Craig's tone was laced with suspicion and arrogance. The review board of three officers sitting behind tables on a raised stage had been pelting him with an inquiry since he’d left the landing pad, preventing him from showering or resting. A Zahlian Officer, Captain Thumux, had been murdered on duty, and a full investigation was required. Tox was nowhere during the inquiry, leaving Nat to fend for himself.
"Somehow, the resistance had stowed away on our shuttle," Nat said. "They neutralized the captain and used a counterfeit tablet to reroute our official flight plan to the prison."
"Stop right there, Lieutenant." Commander Craig studied him. "You say Thumux was neutralized? How?"
"A stun weapon."
"And then he was killed."
"Yes."
Craig leaned forward on his elbows. "Then why were you left alive?"
Nat swallowed. "Because they needed a pilot."
"Not because of your sister's involvement?"
He paused. "I am sure that had something to do with it, Commander. They needed a pilot and assumed I would be able to help."
Commander Tarson, who sat to Craig's left, cleared his throat. "There is some evidence to corroborate Hodges' claim a stun weapon was discharged in the cabin more than once."
Craig eased back, interlocking his fingers in front of him. "So, your sister, the primary resistance leader and the one claiming to deliver the natives to their freedom, escaped prison and forced you at gunpoint to the depot on Sapphire to steal a system disruptor? This is what you're claiming?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you turned your sister in upon returning to Yesro Vraun."
"Yes, sir."
To Nat's surprise, Craig smiled. "I'm impressed, Hodges. That must have been tough."
Nat fought the urge to wince. “All in service to the Empire, sir."
"Indeed." Craig made a swiping motion on his tablet. "You are to be restored to trainee status immediately under a new captain. You’ll be required to await your new CO, but it shouldn't take long. You did well, Hodges. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir."
Nat turned to leave.
"A word, Lieutenant Hodges?" Craig asked as the other members of the panel gathered their things and stepped out of the room.
Feeling uncomfortable for an instant at the thought of being in the room alone with the leader of his interrogators, Nat played the part and stood at rigid attention.
"Of course, sir."
Craig descended from the stage, his tablet tucked under his arm. Adjusting the black beret on his head, he appeared to size up Nat for a long, awkward moment. He then took his time putting on his leather gloves before he finally spoke.
"What are your plans, Hodges?"
Nat blinked. It was perhaps the last thing he expected the Commander to say. "I beg your pardon, sir?"
"With your life," he said, pulling the second glove tight over his hand and squaring off with Nat. "Your term of enlistment still has six years remaining. Do you plan on staying with the Navy at that time?"
Nat frowned. "I hadn't given it much thought, sir."
"Sure, you have," Craig said, turning the corner of his mouth into a smirk, "or you're not the man I thought you were. Deciding to support the Empire over your family must have been difficult. Being from a Prime System myself, I wouldn't know anything about that. However, loyalty must be rewarded. I'd like to know of your a
mbitions for this life."
Nat hesitated. "I will serve where the Empire needs me," he said, choking on the words as Tressa's face flashed in his mind.
"Rubbish." Craig shook his head. "I can see it on your face. The raw ambition. The desire for something more. A man doesn't forsake blood unless there is something more he desires. Why did you do it?"
Nat locked his eyes with Craig's and pursed his lips. "First, I wanted her to be safe. I knew she would die leading the resistance against the Empire and there is no point. We are a Zahlian world now. The quicker my—these people accept that the better off we all will be."
"I understand," Craig said, touching his chin. "A very well-rehearsed textbook answer worthy of an Academy oral comprehensive exam. But you are no longer in the Academy. Tell me what you want, Hodges."
Nat looked at the floor. "Once I've finished my training and logged the required number of hours in the cockpit, I want to transfer to fighter school to fly an Interceptor."
Craig nodded with each word but shook his head when Nat finished. "Even with the pilot shortage, a native pilot from a rebelling world will never be placed in an Interceptor. Not ever. It will take a generation or two before the planet is truly considered part of the Empire. Your children or perhaps your children's children will be able to fly Interceptors, but not you, Hodges. I was thinking more about your life in the Empire following your term as a cargo shuttle pilot. What is it you'd like to do?"
Nat swallowed. "All I've wanted to do is fly Interceptors. I haven't thought of what I'd do afterward."
"The Merchant Marines are always on the lookout for talented and trustworthy tug pilots. Of course, there are other private sector options." Craig held his tablet in front of him. "Do you have your flight tablet?"
"No, sir. I lost it during the ... incident."
"Very well. I will send information to you on training courses you could take in your off time. I could put a good word in for you in whatever direction you decide to go. Sessions that could prepare you for a productive civilian life and ..."