by F. T. Lukens
The original soldier huffed. “Well, I hate this place.” His voice rang out clear over the buzz of insects. He slapped his palm against his neck and grimaced. “Cogging bugs. They’re everywhere.” He shook out his hand.
“And the heat,” another one said. She tugged at her high collar. “It’s nighttime. Isn’t it supposed to let off? I feel like I’m going to suffocate. Where are the environmental controls?”
“This is a planet, cog. There aren’t environmental controls.” The second one wiped his brow. “Besides, if you didn’t whine so much then you wouldn’t waste the air.”
The fourth member, who lugged boxes between the shuttle and the hovercraft, let out a snort. The leader, a thick tall man, whipped out a baton and smacked it against the box he carried.
“Have something to say, Private?”
“No, sir.”
Ren stiffened. It couldn’t be. But Ren knew that voice. He’d heard it every night lying in a cell in a stone citadel. He’d heard it calling him back when he was immersed in the ship. He’d heard it whisper his name as he lay dying on a table.
Asher.
“You better not. And keep moving. Those supplies aren’t going to unload themselves. Cogging supply transport busted like it is. I don’t know how they expect us to get a job done with cheap equipment.” He kicked the ship. The solid thunk of sound echoed loud in the night, followed by a curse and laughter from the others.
Asher sidestepped him and grunted as he hefted the box higher, then trudged between the two vehicles. The leader glared at him.
Ollie clamped his hand over Ren’s shoulder, and that’s when Ren realized he’d pulled his body into a crouch and had inched closer.
A break in the cloud cover allowed the three moons and stars to light the whole clearing. And Ren could distinctly make out the small group. Yes, four of them, including Asher, who was unmistakable in the moonlight—his light hair and his muscular frame and the way he moved and the sound of his voice were all achingly familiar. His uniform was torn and disheveled, and his boots were caked with mud.
Asher carried another box and slid it into the bed of the hovercraft.
“I’m done.”
“Took you long enough, grunt. Stars, my grandmother could’ve done it faster. Is that why you were busted? For being a lazy cog?”
Asher remained silent.
“I heard it was because he went AWOL. Ran away from his post and hid,” the woman said. She sneered at him. “Job get too hard for the pampered little drifter prince?”
The third scoffed and joined the others in a semicircle around Asher. Rain fell heavier. Thunder rumbled.
“I heard he’s a traitor. Consorted with the enemy.”
“Oh yeah?” the leader asked. He prowled around Asher, moving closer. “Explains why leadership has been close-lipped about you. That true, grunt? Are you a traitor?”
Asher turned his head.
“I asked you a question. Are you a traitor?”
Asher tipped his head, looking to the sky.
“I think he’s refusing a direct order.”
“Sure looks that way.”
The leader laughed, low and menacing. “You know what happens to traitors, right?” The punch to Asher’s gut doubled him over. The shove had him on his hands and knees.
Asher coughed once, but otherwise didn’t make a sound. He shifted to stand in the mud, but slipped while the other Corps members around him laughed. Rivulets of rain ran down his face, and he wiped them away with his sleeve, smearing mud across the sharp jut of his cheekbones. He attempted to stand again, but was pushed back to the ground with a weapon that reminded Ren of the prods the soldiers’ used during his own captivity.
“How’s the dirt down there, Private? Does it taste good?”
The biggest of the three kicked Asher’s leg from under him and Asher fell all the way to the ground, landing on his bad shoulder. He grunted, features twisting in pain.
Ren burned. He moved to stand, but Ollie grabbed his arm, pulled him down, and shook his head.
Don’t do anything stupid. Stick to the plan. Ren needed to stick to the plan. But for that to happen, he needed to look away, and he couldn’t do that either.
“I asked you a question, Private!”
Asher laid in the mud, breathing hard. He stayed silent, expression hard, jaw clenched as he watched the three standing above him.
His silence seemed to anger them.
“Well, come on. On your feet.”
Asher rolled to his stomach and pushed up on his elbows. He was rewarded with a kick to his ribs which sent him sprawling. His chest heaved. His head splashed in a puddle. The three above him guffawed.
“He gave you an order. Get up.”
Asher grimaced. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry, what was that, nub?”
Ren didn’t know what the word meant. It wasn’t a term he’d heard, but it meant something to Asher, because his entire demeanor changed. Asher staggered to his feet. He wiped his thumb over his bottom lip; blood smeared his chin. He looked at his thumb, then looked at the three that surrounded him.
“Don’t touch me again.”
“I don’t think I like your tone, nub.” The leader grabbed the weapon from his friend; the end of it sparked in the rain. He raised it, the energy hummed, the tip glowed blue and hovered close to Asher’s face.
Ren reached out, submerged himself in the power source and the mechanisms, and yanked. The weapon sputtered out, but he didn’t relinquish his hold, daring them to touch Asher again. He’d light it up, burn the safeties out of it, until it fizzed and popped, until it turned on the person wielding it. He’d done it before, at the citadel on Erden to Corporal Zag’s unit. He’d scorched them for daring to threaten his friends. He’d do more than that to these cogs, to these men who dared touch Asher, who dared to make Asher grovel in the wet earth.
The big man narrowed his eyes and cursed. He jimmied the handle, checked the power source, and cursed again when the tip wouldn’t light.
“Must be your lucky day,” he snarled at Asher.
Asher tossed a glance over his shoulder, scanning the tree line. “Must be,” he said, voice flat.
Ren shuddered as Asher’s hot gaze passed over his hiding place. Could he see Ren? Could he feel his presence?
“Shut up!” The big man gave Asher a shove. “Back to the cell with you.”
“Traitors get their own special private rooms.” The group laughed.
Asher turned away, but not without one last, longing look at the tree line. He hopped in the back with the cargo while the others piled in the front. They sped off in a puff of smoke and a spray of dirt.
Ren and Ollie emerged from their hiding place.
“We’re rescuing him. Tonight.”
Ollie nodded. “Agreed.”
“Let’s go.”
Ren turned, stride determined, expression grim, star throbbing in his middle, and stalked back the way they’d come. He burned with anger and with strength. He’d save Asher as Asher had saved him. No one would stop him. Then they’d scorch a brilliant contrail through the planet’s dense sky and leave the Phoenix Corps behind in a pile of ash.
5
Ren sank into the captain’s chair despite the look he received from Rowan. He had to. His atrophied legs and torso, exhausted from the trek to and from the Phoenix Corps encampment, couldn’t hold him up much longer.
On the screen in front of them flashed the information he’d secured from the scouting mission. Asher could be housed anywhere in the camp, but he was there. Ren had seen him, muddied and bleeding, but beautiful all the same. Based on the camp layout and the strong forcefield signature emanating from a small building toward the center, they’d guessed that was Asher’s probable whereabouts.
Darby sauntered onto the bridge as she bit i
nto a piece of fruit she’d snagged from the bowl in the common area. She chewed loudly as she peered over Lucas’s shoulder at the map of the encampment on the vid screen. Her knee bumped Ren’s leg. He grimaced from the flash of pain and inched away.
“We need a diversion,” Rowan said, pointing to the map. “To draw everyone away from the cell.”
“I’m good at diversions,” Darby said, taking another bite.
Ren tilted his head. “This isn’t the kind of diversion we used to get the data pad.”
“Nah, that won’t work.” She pointed to the power generator. “You need to take that out.”
Rowan arched an eyebrow. “Take it out?”
Crunching, Darby nodded. “Yeah. Blow it up. Boom!” She made a motion with her hands that Ren guessed was supposed to be an explosion.
“Can you do that?”
She glanced at Ren. “Yes, and so can you. You can do it with your science-magic.”
“Ren will have other concerns than blowing things up. He’ll need his strength to disable the perimeter alarms and lower the forcefields and then to transport us since we won’t be able to fly out.” Rowan leveled a stare at Darby. “So, are you willing?”
Darby took another bite. “Oh, yeah. I love blowing things up.”
“Now,” Rowan tapped her lips, “how to get in.”
“Capture,” Ren said.
Rowan’s eyes widened. The group shifted their attention to him. Rowan caught on first.
“No.”
“Yes. They’ll take me to the cell, and I can power down the forcefields while Darby creates a diversion.”
“No, Ren. No. You can’t guarantee they’ll take you to the right building. They may kill you on the spot.”
“They can’t.”
“They have. Stars, Ren, are you addled?”
“I can do it.” In defiance, Ren straightened from his sprawl. His joints protested, and he bit his lip to keep from grimacing. “I need to do it. It’s the best way to guarantee Asher’s location. And I’d rather risk myself than any of you.”
“You’re still recovering,” Penelope said gently. “Maybe you should stay on the outskirts and do what you need to from afar.”
“I can’t,” Ren said. “I need to be close to—”
“That’s a coggin’ lie.” Rowan crossed her arms. “We all know you don’t have to be in the vicinity to do what you need to.”
Ren gritted his teeth. “I do this time.”
Ollie and Lucas exchanged a glance and backed away.
Rowan huffed, her green eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned. “Don’t think you have a monopoly on wanting to free Ash. He’s my brother. He’s been a friend to this crew for years. You aren’t the only one who cares about what happens here. You aren’t the only one who loves him.”
Ren shot to his feet. “But I’m the one who put him there!” His legs quivered; his muscles strained to keep him upright. “It was my stupid decisions. My altered perceptions. My mistakes that forced Asher to give himself up to save me.” Ren’s eyes watered, and he scrubbed the tears away with the heel of his palm. Exhaustion pulled at him, and pain throbbed from his side to combine with the swirling emotions he struggled to keep in check. His chest heaved; his breathing hitched. “I need to save him.”
“Ren,” Rowan said softly, “after everything that’s happened, I can’t ask you to be taken captive.”
“I’m volunteering.” Ren’s voice wavered.
“What if it triggers a panic attack? What if they beat you? You couldn’t take that right now. What if they use iron shackles instead of a forcefield?”
All color drained from Ren’s face, and he fell back into the chair. He opened his mouth, but he had no response, much less any air.
“Then we’ll intervene,” Ollie said. “We’ll have a solid plan B in our pocket. But Ren is right. He can disable weapons and tech and has a better chance than any of us. This is the best way.”
Rowan slammed her fist on the console. The image of the camp wavered. “I know it’s probably the best way, but I will not give up one crew member for another, no matter who they are. I’m not losing anyone else. I can’t lose anyone else!” Her composure fractured. Her expression crumpled; her bottom lip trembled. Strands of hair escaped from her braid. Silence descended on the deck, and the only sound was Rowan’s harsh breathing. She turned away from them and bowed her head.
“Rowan,” Penelope said softly, but Rowan held up her hand and stopped her.
She shuddered, then turned, eyes red, but seeming collected, to address them. “I apologize for my outburst.” She rested her hands on her hips. “And if you are bent on following this course of action, I advise that we at least rest for a day. And then we’ll go. Ren can barely stand.”
Ren shook his head. “No,” he said cautiously, twisting his fingers, “we go tonight. We can’t let Asher stay there any longer. Not after what Ollie and I saw.”
Ollie sighed, then clenched his fists. “Captain, I agree with Ren.”
Lucas shrugged. “Well, you won’t have me complaining about getting off this humid, frightening rock.”
Rowan frowned and threw up her hands. “I guess it was my mistake to think I had any control over this crew anymore.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Darby said, crunching a mouthful of fruit, “I don’t think you had control to begin with.”
Rowan turned a murderous glare on Darby, and Darby shrank back to hide behind Ren.
“Anyway,” Lucas said, bringing the conversation back to topic, “the sooner we leave the better. The populace here aren’t keen on the Corps, and there are grumblings.”
Ren perked up. “What do you mean?”
“When Rowan and I were in the city, we hit up a bar and listened. The citizens aren’t happy the Corps is here, and there have already been a few scuffles between soldiers and townsfolk.”
Rowan cleared her throat. “We’ll use it to our advantage. Maybe the Corps will think our diversion was caused by the locals. It doesn’t hurt that they’ll capture a duster lurking around.” She pinned Ren with an intense stare.
Ren’s throat went dry, and he squirmed. The full implication of their plan was settling in, and with it, all the things that could potentially go wrong. But what choice did they have? He wouldn’t leave Asher there any longer.
“I’ll be fine,” he said to the unasked question. He hoped he wasn’t lying.
* * *
Ren approached the camp with his cloak pulled tight around his body and the hood pulled up to cover his face. The night had darkened considerably. The moons had moved, and only a few stars were visible behind wispy clouds. The air sat heavy and humid in Ren’s lungs. As he walked the road, his boots sank in the clinging mud and panic swelled in his chest. His throat tightened, and his breath whistled as if he sucked through a straw.
“You okay, Ren?” Rowan’s voice came over the comm clipped to the hood of his cloak.
He wasn’t. Everything hurt. Every joint creaked and protested as he moved. Every thump of his heart echoed in his temple. Every second out in the open made his skin crawl. Every pulse of electricity scorched through his veins.
“I’m fine,” he rasped.
“Are you sure?”
Ren closed his eyes and sought out the nearest perimeter alarm. He found it a few feet away and set it off. Then he shut down all the others for Ollie and Darby. No turning back now. He stopped at the edge and waited.
“Yes. Alarms are down.”
“Remain calm.” Ollie’s voice was a comfort in his ear. “Darby and I are nearby.”
“I know.”
Ren stilled and waited. Soon the thump of approaching boots sounded, and the chatter of voices filled his ears. He crossed the perimeter line and ducked his head.
“Who are you?” Ren peeked from below the h
ood. The voice came from the large soldier who had kicked Asher. Ren bit his lip and fought the urge to latch on to the pulse gun in the soldier’s holster and exact revenge. Instead he held his body still. A beating like Asher had taken earlier would crush Ren in his still-healing state, and then they would need to enact their plan B. That plan was haphazard at best and put Ollie at risk—something Ren wouldn’t allow.
The soldier neared and slowed. He squinted at Ren and stopped a few feet away. Another soldier flanked him, and his comm crackled on his chest.
“What is it? Another animal? Or did it short out with the rain?”
“Some duster,” he responded. He lifted his chin. “Are you going to answer me? Who are you? What are doing around here?”
Ren unclenched his hands. “No one and nothing.”
“Yeah, right. Are you selling something? Or are you snooping? Because we’re not buying. And if you’re snooping, well…” He pulled out his weapon and hefted it in his hand. “We’ve already had some problems with you backward mud dwellers.”
When Ren didn’t respond, the guard pushed him hard in the arm with the tip of the pulse gun. Ren wobbled and took a step back. “Don’t.”
“Or what?” He huffed. “You going to fight me, little duster? You’re obviously too foolish to stay away from where you’re not wanted.”
Ren didn’t speak. His throat closed at the unwanted touch. His pulse sped beneath his skin. His chest tightened.
“Go away and don’t snoop unless you want trouble.”
Ren’s comm crackled. “You have to do something for him to take you,” Ollie’s voice was muffled, but even and sure. “Insult him.”
“What was that?” The guard stepped forward and grabbed Ren’s upper arm in his meaty grip. “Do you have a comm? What is this?” He ripped Ren’s hood back and snatched the device clipped to the fabric. “What are you up to?”
Ren swallowed. “I… I don’t….”
“Do you think we’re addled? That we don’t know about your little duster resistance?”
Ren’s focus zeroed down to where the guard’s hand grabbed him. His senses fuzzed. Static filled his head. His vision grayed at the edges. He closed his eyes and reached out for tech. He latched onto their data pads. He took comfort in the circuits and bled into them, surging through and burning out the wires.