[Time: One week behind Tedix storyline.]
The first thing Juiwa noticed was the smell. Heavy and cloying, it was the rich, sickly sweet smell of rot. The second thing he noticed was that he was alive. He opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling of the ship. It looked strange, for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He blinked and it came into focus. Ah.
There was blood and other bodily material splattered across the surface, dried and peeling. Where had that come from? How much had he missed while unconscious? With a groan, Juiwa forced himself into a sitting position, using his arms to steady himself. He glanced around and found that he was in the transport area of the ship and not the cockpit, where he had been when the ship had gone into warp.
And where was everyone else? Juiwa could not see any trace of them. Was that them on the ceiling? No, there didn’t seem to be enough for more than one being. He rolled over to his hands and knees. His head started to spin and Juiwa paused, waiting for it to stop. When it did, he pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward the door. He paused at the threshold, considered for a moment, and grabbed a spare rifle from the rack. It was always best to be armed in an unknown environment.
Both his IPDM suit and chameleon suit were intact and in working condition, so he was ready to both fight and hide, whichever became necessary. Juiwa stood in the airlock and took a deep breath, readying himself. Reaching out, he pressed the button that controlled the locking mechanism and stepped out into the blazing sun light.
He blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes used to the blinding light. After a few seconds, his eyes were greeted with the sight of a broad plain. It was covered in sparse vegetation under a pale blue sky devoid of clouds. The first step he took onto the surface of this mysterious planet almost sent him to his knees, as the ground gave way beneath him like sand, not the dirt he had been expecting. Stupid. Juiwa shouldn’t expect anything. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and expectations got you killed.
Regaining his balance, Juiwa glanced around and saw a trail of footsteps leading to the back of the ship. As they were the only markings he could see, it stood to reason that they were the footsteps of his team. Why they had left him behind was an interesting question. Had they just abandoned him, thinking him dead? Were they forced to flee quickly from some threat and left him behind because he would slow them down?
The only way Juiwa was going to get answers was if he followed the tracks. The sun beat down on his head, warming his hard skin. One thing was clear, this was not where they should have ended up. They had been aiming for Illoria, a barren moon. Instead, the ship had brought them here to this grassy plain. Juiwa was not even sure where in existence they were. With a miscalculated warp jump, they could have ended up on the other side of the universe from where they were trying to go.
Juiwa supposed it was lucky that he survived at all. After the ship had been hit and the warp drive went crazy, the very fact that the ship was still in one piece was nothing short of a miracle. Usually accidents involving warp jumps ended up with the atoms of the ship scattered across known space. But luck could only get you so far. The ship had crashed on an unknown world, his team was missing, and Juiwa needed to find shelter from the damned heat. His species was not evolved for deserts and unrelenting suns.
Rounding the back of the ship, he found his answers much sooner than he had expected. Resting in the cool shadow of the ship was his team, all four of them. He sighed with relief as he crossed into the shadow and the sun no longer beat down on his head. Vyena looked up from her prone position on the ground, her head cushioned by a bundle of cloth.
Smiling, she pushed herself up. “Juiwa! You’re awake!” she said, hurrying over to Juiwa. Pooi, Wees, and Kryl all glanced up at the mention of his name. Juiwa nodded in their direction, the only greeting he was going to give them. No sense in wasting energy talking when a nod would do.
When Vyena got close enough, she reached up and lifted Juiwa’s eyelid. The unexpected touch and the sudden closeness caused Juiwa to jerk his head back, knocking her hand to the side. He glared at her.
She tsked. “I’m just checking to see if you survived intact. You were unconscious for about a day. That can leave some permanent damage.”
Juiwa sighed and nodded his consent. There was no point arguing. Vyena was right, and she would get her way one way or the other. Vyena gently lifted his eyelid and peered into his eye. He moved it as she directed, to the left, right, up, and down. She muttered under her breath, too quiet for even him to hear.
When he looked straight ahead, Juiwa became uncomfortably aware of how close Vyena was standing. He could hear her low, smooth breathing and her hand on his head was pleasantly cool. Watching Vyena as she examined his eyes, Juiwa was slightly startled when she finished and locked gazes with him. Her eyes were a soft blue, the color of a gently winding stream, the water pouring over the rocks. That blue seemed to beckon to him, drawing him ever closer. What was this?
He blinked and stepped rapidly backwards, pulling himself out of the depths. That had never happened to him before. Vyena chuckled. “What, never seen a girl’s eyes?” she teased with a strange lilt to her voice.
Juiwa’s mouth opened almost of its own accord, before he shut it with a click. Instead, he glanced around the makeshift camp and not seeing what he was looking for, turned to Vyena and asked, “Water?”
Vyena sighed. “No water, I’m afraid. Whatever we had on board spilled or evaporated in the crash and, well,” she gestured around, “this place doesn’t have any we could find.”
“We don’t know that,” said Kryl, who had come up behind Vyena and was listening in on the conversation. “Mor-oik just said it wasn’t likely.”
Mor-oik? Who was that? That name sounded Swrun. But it couldn’t be, because no Swrun would help another species, let alone a group flying a stolen Swrun vessel. Juiwa looked at Vyena and raised his brow, silently asking a question.
“Mor-oik is -” She was interrupted by another voice, one unfamiliar to Juiwa.
“I managed to find a few Riaus and I-Whoa!” Juiwa had leveled his rifle at the Swrun who had appeared behind the ship. He did not look like Juiwa had expected. He was short and skinny, perhaps five feet tall. This Swrun was a far cry from the hulking warriors Juiwa had fought before. He did not have the bearing of a soldier, either. He had shied away from the gun, half turning his body, hands held above his head.
“It’s fine, Mor-oik,” Vyena said, reaching out and pushing Juiwa’s barrel toward the ground. “Juiwa was just surprised, that’s all.” She gave Juiwa a sharp glare before turning back to the Swrun. Juiwa felt his face curl in confusion. She was defending a Swrun?
The Swrun slowly lowered his hands and faced Juiwa. “I do apologize for startling you…Juiwa, is it?”
Juiwa fixed the Swrun with a hard stare, finally giving him a curt nod.. Vyena seemed to trust him, and she was usually a good judge of character so Juiwa would tolerate the Swrun. But he would not trust him. He had trusted Swrun before.
Rubbing his wrists absently, Juiwa turned back to Vyena and jerked his head towards the Swrun, eyebrow raised, asking his question silently. Vyena rolled her eyes and said, “Mor-oik was making his way through this desert when our ship crashed in front of him. He managed to get the door open and he-”
“To be fair, your ship didn’t crash so much as appear out of thin air and land in the ground,” the Swrun interrupted. Juiwa focused his gaze on the Swrun and saw him slump the slightest bit, wilting under Juiwa’s gaze. Juiwa also noticed the Swrun’s left tusk had been sawn off, leaving a rough stump an inch above his lip. Tusk removal was a rare punishment among the Swrun, denoting cowardice or dishonor. Juiwa wondered which it was.
For some reason, Vyena glared back at Juiwa, shaking her head the slightest amount. “He found us unconscious in the wreck and he pulled us out,” she continued. “As it happens, Mor-oik is from a Swrun training camp some hundred miles to the south, sent out here as a punishment. He’s like Kra-ort, Juiwa. He hates the Empire just as much as we do, and he wants to join the Rebellion.”
Juiwa gave her a flat stare, signaling his disbelief. Wees called out from the back, “You said you brought back some food, Mor-oik?”
“That’s right,” the Swrun replied, “some Riaus.”
“What are those?” asked Kryl. “And more importantly, do they taste good?”
The Swrun swung his pack off his shoulder and walked into the center of the shade cast by the ship, surrounded by the Bandits. Reaching inside, he pulled out a long, slim animal covered in fur. “This is a Riau. Small mammals that spend their lives burrowing underground. They’re pretty much the only food source in the Wastes. And yes, they taste good, cooked right.”
This was met with happy exclamations from the three new Bandits. Juiwa caught Vyena’s eyes and motioned to the side. She nodded and followed him around the side of the ship.
“I don’t trust him,” Juiwa said immediately, once they were out of earshot. “What do we know about him?” Wasting words be damned, this was important. There was a Swrun in their midst.
Vyena held up a calming hand. “You haven’t properly met him yet. You were out for a day longer than the rest of us. I believe him. He truly does want to help fight the Empire.”
Juiwa grunted. “Look,” Vyena said, “Mor-oik found us unconscious in the ship, he could have killed us, captured us, or any number of other things. But he didn’t. He stayed to help us. Now, he’s brought back food and he knows the lay of the land. We need him, even if you don’t trust him.”
“Does the ship work?” Juiwa asked. If the ship was able to fly, they could just lift of this planet and get back to the Bandits as soon as possible.
“No, unfortunately,” Vyena said, shaking her head. “The warp jump inside the gravity well and the damage we took from the plasma shot fried the engines and ruptured most of the other systems. We’re stuck here.”
“Communications?”
“Gone. The circuits were ruptured by the plasma shot and what was left was ruined by Koruk’s body splattering into it.” Ah. That was where the blood and body fragments had come from. An untethered, rotting corpse did not fare well in a crash landing. “The only way to contact the Rebellion would be if we snuck into the training camp Mor-oik mentioned. Seems it is the only civilization on this planet. And they have the only ships.”
“Hmm.” Juiwa thought for a moment. Clearly the only way to get back to the Rebellion was through the training camp. The simplest way would be to attack the camp, steal a ship, and fly out of there. But there were only five Bandits against a large number of Swrun. Were Clint or Tedix here, they could have pulled it off. But with only Juiwa, Vyena, and three new Bandits, none of whom had fought long as Bandits, it would be nearly impossible.
“We’ll have to sneak in, using Mor-oik to gain access from the inside. Only way it’ll work. He’ll get us in and ensure we get through without running into anyone,” Vyena said, finishing off Juiwa’s train of thought.
Juiwa looked at Vyena in shock. Had she been reading his mind? She chuckled. “No, I haven’t been reading your mind, Juiwa. It’s the only logical way to do it.”
He sighed. It really was their best chance of success. He nodded reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. Where is this camp?”
“Mor-oik said it was about a hundred miles south of here, but he can’t return until he retrieves something from that mountain,” she said, pointing to the only landmark in sight, a mountain low on the northern horizon.
“What does the mountain have to do with it?” Juiwa wondered out loud. He blinked when he realized what he had said. He never wondered out loud. His tattoo itched and he scratched it absently.
“I’m sure Mor-oik can explain that,” Vyena said, nodding her head in the direction of the Swrun, who, with the other Bandits, was in the middle of constructing a fire out of wreckage pieces, presumably to cook the Riaus. Juiwa looked at her and she looked right back. “You are going to have to work with him, like it or not, and you might as well get used to talking with him.”
Juiwa snorted. “I don’t talk to most people.”
“True,” Vyena agreed, raising her eyebrows, “but you’ve been far more talkative these last few weeks than I’ve ever seen you.”
Juiwa shrugged as he turned his back and walked over to the fire. Pooi had managed to get a pile of cloth and padding alight and was now in the process of maintaining the flame. Kryl, Wees, and the Swrun each had a Riau in hand, having varying degrees of success skinning it. Wees was having the most trouble. Juiwa didn’t think he had ever held a knife for carving before in his life. After watching another awkward slice, he gave up and stuck out his hand.
“Give it here,” Juiwa said. Wees looked up in surprise, knife still embedded in the Riau. “You’re going to ruin the meat,” Juiwa explained. “Just give it here.” No need to save words here, preparing dinner was a serious business and deserved all the attention he could give it. Fire burned, meat tasted good, but only if it was prepared right.
Wees looked down at his attempt and sighed, holding out the carcass wordlessly. Juiwa sat, legs crossed, and took the Riau from Wees. Pulling out his knife–kept sharp as always–Juiwa examined the Riau, looking for the best point to begin. Thankfully, Wees had not damaged it too badly and most of the meat was still intact.
Picking his point of entry, Juiwa slipped his knife in the hind leg and made a smooth, clean cut through the skin. Slipping his knife inside, Juiwa separated the skin from the meat, then made a similar cut on the other leg. Finishing with that, he set his knife to the side and used his hands to pull the leg out of the skin, then shucked the skin down the leg to the haunches.
Repeating the process on the other side, Juiwa made a few more strategic cuts, then shucked the skin the rest of the way off, pulling it down the body and off the head. Were he saving the skin, Juiwa would have done it more carefully, but he only concerned with the meat here. Cutting open the abdomen, Juiwa removed the organs and other non-meat items. The Riau was surprisingly similar to the Surn from Euthae, where he first learned to hunt, enabling Juiwa to clean it quickly.
Picking up one of the metal rods collected for spits, Juiwa threaded the Riau onto it and set it on the braces Pooi had set up. Leaning back with a sigh, Juiwa rested on his hands and stretched his legs out. He looked up to see that everyone had gone quiet and were all looking at him.
“What?” he asked. Glancing around, he noticed that Kryl and the Swrun were still in the process of skinning their Riaus and, while the Swrun was much farther along than Kryl, neither would be done before the sun went down. Wees’ mouth was hanging slightly open, his eyes wide.
There was a pregnant pause, then the Swrun held out his Riau to Juiwa. “Could you show me how to do that?” he asked, his tone sincere and curious.
Juiwa hesitated, thinking the Swrun was just being attentive to gain favor, then noticed the slight gleam in the Swrun’s eyes. He really did want to learn. Perhaps he was not as bad as Juiwa had thought. He would still keep an eye on him though. Fire burned, meat tasted good, and Swrun were bastards, through and through.
Reaching out his hand, Juiwa took the Riau from Mor-oik. “Watch carefully,” he said. Mor-oik leaned in close.
The boiling water hissed at me as I poured the grains from the bag to the pot. Two similar pots, already filled with grain, cooked to the side. I was making something called “Oatmeal” that Clint had made before. It was a simple way to feed a large amount of people, provided you had the materials. Since our most recent raid on Swrun supplies, we had plenty.
“I don’t see how this stuff is supposed to taste good,” Bor quipped next to me. I shrugged.
“Throw in some sugar, little bit of honey, maybe a handful of raisins, and this stuff tastes delicious.” The makeshift kitchen in the base was a ramble shod job; a natural grotto further hollowed out to fit stoves and ovens. Water came from a series of pipes attached to the ceiling, along with the lights. All in all, it wasn’t a bad place for a cave deep in a barren moon orbiting a dying star in a forgotten system.
The dry storage was in the next room, and the coolers and freezers were in the room after that. Both were filled to bursting with foodstuffs and other edibles. Which was a good thing, because the Bandits went through it at a prodigious rate. Forty five soldiers in training ate pretty much everything they could get their hands on, three times a day. Since we didn’t have a cook, there was a rotating schedule of who would prepare that meal’s food.
Today was Bor and I. Thankfully, it was breakfast, and I knew how to make oatmeal. I consider myself a fair cook, but I still liked to make it simple. Bor, on the other hand, was considered a great cook by the rest of the Bandits, along with Heras, and the Bandits always took seconds and thirds from their meals. When Louth cooked, people either pretended to be ill or, if they did eat, ate only a single, small helping.
“Stir that pot, will you?” I asked Bor, pointing at the one closest to him. He did so without complaining. I had found with Clint gone, I really had no one to talk to, and so I had started to conversing whoever was near. Of all the beings in the base, I found Bor was the easiest to talk with. He was one of the oldest of the Bandits, perhaps forty years old, a good decade older than me. I was his commanding officer, but he just acted like we were two friends going about our business.
“Any word from the Captain or Juiwa?” Bor asked, casually. I knew he was just as concerned about them as I was.
“Nothing,” I said.
“It’s been a week,” he said, the concern in his voice barely concealed. “I can understand the Captain taking longer, but Juiwa should have been back within a day. We need to look for them.”
I agreed with him. It shouldn’t have taken more than a day. They must have run into trouble along the way. Were Clint here, we could have mounted a search, but as it was, we did not have enough ships to spare. We had only the Black Beauty, and we couldn’t leave a fair portion of Bandits here with no way off the moon.
“I know,” I said, “but we have no way of helping them. They will just have to fend for themselves.”
“If we had more ships,” Bor started, “then we-”
I raised a hand, quieting him. “But we have no way to get more ships, and-”
I was interrupted by a loud voice over the intercoms, which we had installed recently to more easily communicate in the base.
“Lieutenant, there are two ships approaching. They bear Rebellion insignia and they say they bring more recruits.” That was Kor’keq’s voice. He was one of the few Bandits who seemed to enjoy working in the communications room, and so he was there at almost any given time. He never seemed to sleep, either.
I looked at Bor to find him already looking at me. “Watch the food,” I said as I back pedaled out of the room and half walked, half ran to the hangar. As I walked, I contacted Heras through my wrist comm. “Arm everyone who is awake and bring them down into the hangar. We have guests. Friendliness to be determined.”
I switched the comm off before I heard his reply, and contacted Louth. “Wake everyone who is not already awake, arm them, and bring them down to the hangar. Guests of unknown friendliness have arrived.”
“Will do, sir,” came his reply, but I had already shut off my comm.
I personally was heading for the first armory, conveniently placed close to the hangar for exactly this reason. The kitchens were the furthest point from the hangar, unluckily, and by the time I had arrived, there was already a group of twenty Bandits arming themselves under the direction of Heras.
“Have we got anything on them?” I asked Heras as I quickly forced myself into an IPDM suit. I had become quite good at it over the last few months, mainly due to the endless drills Clint forced us to run. My fur gave me a bit of trouble, but I quickly smoothed it out.
“Nay. The identities of the strangers remain cloaked in shadow. Nary a word hath been traded amongst the sides an-”
“A no would have been fine, Heras.”
A frown appeared on the Fnera’s scaled face. “I was merely trying to shed light upon the situation. Methinks it is best to have too many facts than not enough.”
I waved my hand in irritation. “It’s fine, Heras. Get the men into position.”
There were women among the ranks, but commanders had called their soldiers men, regardless of gender, for tens of thousands of years and they would until the end of time. I did the same. Heras called out in that strange speech of his, and the Bandits advanced into the hangar, taking positions around the perimeter of the large space. Strategically placed crates, barrels, and other barriers provided cover for the defenders and obstacles for attackers.
As I followed them out, I heard footsteps behind me. I glanced backward to see Louth at the head of the rest of the Bandits, leading them into the armory. Some of them seemed to be sleeping on their feet. I trusted Louth would get them in order.
Turning to see Heras’ men in place, I contacted Kor’keq. “Tell the ships they are free to land. No sudden moves.”
After several minutes, a hum filled the air as the ships approached. Two troop ships appeared in front of the hangar opening, each big enough to carry fifty soldiers. Maneuvering carefully through the opening, the closest ship touched down not ten feet in front of me. The second followed suit, touching down behind it.
I stood before the barriers and crates, out in the open. I imagine I looked something like Clint out there, standing alone against unknown odds. I felt someone step up beside me and saw Bor standing with a rifle held in a relaxed grip.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth.
“Backing you up,” he hissed back. “You can’t just walk in by yourself.”
I half turned to tell him off, but the ramp to the ship began to lower at that point and I was forced to cut my rebuke short. The ramp set down with a clang of metal on stone and I saw unfamiliar figures gathered at the top, silhouetted by the lights of the carrier bay. I heard hands tightening on grips around the hangar and I shifted my stance, making it easier for me to dive out of the way of any attack.
The crowd at the top of the ramp shuffled and split in the middle, allowing for a single, large figure to walk down the ramp. Massive, covered in muscles, and possessing the gait of a being who was the most dangerous one in the room and knew it. It was the walk of Clint Stone, but it was not him. It was Kra-ort.
The large Swrun marched down the ramp, his arms held wide. “Is this how you Bandits greet friends?” he boomed. “I’d hate to see how you greet enemies.”
I smiled before I knew what I was doing. I waved my hands in a downward motion. “Put your guns down, these are friends!”
Walking forward, I met Kra-ort at the bottom of the ramp. I clasped my hand to his in a gesture of greeting. “I do apologize for the rude welcome, but Command didn’t tell us they were sending you. It’s good to see you, Kra-ort.”
His smile turned to a slight grimace. “It seems they don’t tell anyone anything these days. I’ve brought a hundred new recruits to join your unit. A hundred more will follow in a few weeks.”
I stared at him. “A hundred more? We don’t have the infrastructure or supplies or space. Why are they sending them here?”
Kra-ort glanced around and said, “Perhaps it would be best if we spoke in private.”
After leaving orders to find quarters for the new recruits and to unload the supplies, Kra-ort and I found ourselves in the Captain’s quarters, seated around a table looted from a Swrun outpost. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, seamless and solid, yet still possessing a utilitarian beauty. We sat opposite each other, he leaning back in his chair, leg resting on the other, and I seated more rigidly, feet on the floor and hands on the table.
“So,” I ventured, “why are there a hundred more soldiers arriving in a week?”
Kra-ort leaned forward and looked me in the eye. “It’s starting.”
I raised my eyebrows in confusion. “What’s starting?”
“The war. Within six months we will declare war on the Empire and attack outright.”
I whistled and leaned back in my chair. War. What we had been doing here for the last few months was aggressive for sure, with mounds of corpses and smoking ruins left in our wake, but war was something different. Something different entirely.
Battles over planets, systems, quadrants. Vast armies clashing on the ground, in the sky, in the great black void. Fleets moving among the black void, seeking their counterparts’ destruction, armed with terrible power. Soldiers, met in blood and death, writhing, clawing, killing. Cities besieged, conquered, destroyed. Planets aflame, worlds wrought sterile and ruined before the might of Empires. That was what Kra-ort told of.
“We have the strength?” I asked. The reason no one had ever won against the Swrun Empire was because the Swrun outnumbered, outgunned, and outfought any opponent. “The independent systems joined?”
Kra-ort inclined his head. “A good portion of them did. All told, we have upwards of a hundred million soldiers, with more promised. We have several fleets, and we have the Free Fleet with us. That amounts to ten regular fleets. I won’t get into logistics, but our supplies are well stocked.”
He sounded very pleased. I was not. “But the Swrun armies number in the tens of hundreds of millions. Fifty some fleets, and near limitless resources. We are more outnumbered than Kantimar was! How do you expect us to win this war?”
Kra-ort sighed. “With strategy, guts, and ferocity. The fact of the matter is this is the last chance the galaxy has. The Swrun gobble up more systems every day, millions of free beings are captured and enslaved, rebellions extinguished with extreme prejudice. We are the last bastion against the darkness, the last light of freedom in a sea of slavery and terror. We’ve gathered all we could, trained and prepared them, and now we are going to go to war. That is what the Council of Six has decided and that is what we are going to do.”
I put my head in my hands. This did not look good. But what could you do in the face of overwhelming odds other than stand against them and fight to the end. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re bringing two hundred new fighters here.”
“We need you to train them. The Bandits are, quite honestly, the best unit we’ve got. You started with next to nothing and now you’ve built this base,” he motioned with his hands, “and you’ve performed dozens of missions without losing a single member. I’ve brought them here to be trained by you and the Bandits. The ones who make it through the training will be scattered among the various armies and they will train more.
“Plus,” he said, leaning forward, “We’ll leave a good portion of them here with you. We need to have a unit that can take any challenge thrown at them. We need an army of Clint Stones and Tedix Jakus if we are going to win this war. The Swrun have the Breakers and the Guard. We’ll have the Bandits.”
“Uh…” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. The Breakers and the Guard were considered the best fighters in the galaxy, responsible for quelling rebellions and defending the Emperor, respectively. Kra-ort himself had come from the Guard, and he was one of the best fighters I’d ever seen. That was a lot of pressure on the Bandits. What if we couldn’t live up to their expectations.
“You’ll have Clint to help you, of course. He should be arriving in the next week or so. His trial is underway as we speak.”
My head snapped up at the mention of Clint. “He’s in trial already? I thought that would take much longer than a week.”
Kra-ort shrugged. “I guess they want him out of there and back into the field as soon as possible.”
I shook my head. Clint always did manage to get out of situations that would have spelled disaster for any other being.
“Are you staying here then? If we’re making this the best unit in the Rebellion, you would be a great asset.”
“No,” Kra-ort said. “They need me back at Base to make sure the new ones know which end of the gun is which.”
“Hmm.”
Kra-ort held up a thick finger. “You are going to need more ships. Susan and that monstrosity in the hangar are not going to enough for all of you.”
“I know,” I said. The thought had been floating around in my head for a while. Ever since Juiwa and Vyena hadn’t come back, and we didn’t have enough ships to find them. “I’ve been thinking about that. The question is, where’re we going to get them? I assume the Rebellion needs all of the ships it has right now?”
“That and more,” Kra-ort growled. “Transportation is the key to a successful war effort. Supplies, troops, support all need to get where they are needed and quickly. We barely have enough ships to do it.”
I shook my head in acceptance. “I assumed as much. We’ll just have to get our ships wherever we can.”
Shrugging, Kra-ort said, “You could always steal one.” He chuckled. I sat up straighter. He looked at me, head tilted slightly.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, voice disbelieving.
I nodded. “Hell yes, I’m serious. It solves most of my problems. We need ships, so we steal them. I need to train these new Bandits, it gives me a mission. We need to hurt the Swrun, taking their ships solves that.” I smiled. “Thank you, Kra-ort. That was most helpful.”
He sighed. “You’re crazy. Where are you going to get the ships anyway? Swrun shipyards are heavily guarded and the rest are in massive fleets. Plus, you’ve only got one ship right now. There isn’t much you can do with that.”
Hmm. I thought for a moment. “We’ll take them from the bases and training camps. They’ll have a few. Then, when we have enough, we’ll start in on the larger targets.” I nodded, feeling better and better about this plan the more I thought about it. It solved a good deal of problems and gave me something to do. “How long are you here for?”
“They need me back day after next, to continue training the new recruits.”
“Perfect. We’ll attack tomorrow.”
I stood, pushing back my chair. Kra-ort looked up at me, a vaguely shocked look on his face. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“To find us a camp!” I said, emphatically.
[Time: One week ahead of Tedix’s storyline.]
Jaein waited by Susan. The crate underneath her provided good support for her tired legs and she rested gratefully. She had stood for six hours in the Judgment Chamber, defending Clint Stone from the accusations of murder. It had been a grueling affair. She had never had to act as a lawyer before and the event had been quite taxing.
But she had gotten him out. She had not only managed to get Clint declared innocent, but this incident would never go on record. Jaein suspected that the Judge had not been nearly as harsh as she could have been, but it was still a huge feat to get everything dismissed. There had not been time to celebrate afterwards, as the General had requested Clint’s presence the moment the trial concluded.
And so Jaein sat on a crate, waiting for Clint to return to Susan. She wiped her sweaty palms on her legs and noticed that they were not actually sweating, they just felt that way. Strange. She rarely sweated. But it was to be expected, she supposed.
The upcoming conversation was not going to be pleasant. Her stomach fluttered again and she hammered it down, drawing herself deeply into Hard Face. A lack of emotion was going to be needed here.
She turned her thoughts over and over in her head, crafting her speech for Clint. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s not the right time. There are outside circumstances. She considered each thought before tossing it aside. None could properly summarize what she wanted to say.
It was not like she wanted to be separated from Clint, but she knew it was necessary. She had seen it, during the trial. Clint spoke so passionately about the war, his war, against the Swrun. He could not afford distractions from that. He needed to focus all of his attention on defeating the Swrun, on winning the war.
And Jaein could not afford distractions herself. She needed to be at her sharpest, at her most ruthless. Diplomacy during war was harsh. She needed every edge she could get. She inhaled. This was necessary, it had to be done for the greater good.
“I was worried I would have to go search for you in the base.”
She looked up to see the bright face of Clint Stone, hard face split by a broad grin. At the sight of that face, so full of love for her, Jaein nearly decided that the greater good was not nearly important as her, as their, good. But her mind prevailed over her heart. Sometimes she hated that.
Clint reached her crate and lifted a hand to touch her face. The living metal was warm against her skin, pushing firmly but gently on her cheek. Clint was always careful with his strength. Raising her own hand, she grasped his, feeling the taunt metal muscles shifting under her fingers.
Swallowing hard, Jaein drew in a breath. Clint’s eyes, sharp as always, narrowed slightly at her demeanor. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his words.
The words were hard to form, but Jaein forced them out. “We have to stop seeing each other.”
The emotions that flickered across Clint’s face were too numerous to count, but among them was anger, confusion, and sorrow. Confusion won out. “But why?”
The hurt in his voice was almost too much for Jaein to take. But she pushed through it. “We have to. It’s best that–”
Clint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Was it your father?” he asked harshly. “I swear I’ll–”
Laying a calming hand on Clint’s arm, Jaein shook her head. “No, it was not my father. It’s me.”
“But why?” he repeated, his face unreadable.
“I know it’s hard to realize it, but we have a duty. One that is far more important than the two of us.” Jaein shook her head, looking sadly at Clint. “You have your battles to fight and I have my treaties and diplomacies to negotiate. We cannot afford distractions.
“You and I, we…we are each other’s biggest distractions. We cannot afford to be together.”
“You…you’re saying that we can’t be together because we need to focus on the war?” With each word, Clint’s eyebrows drew closer together, until they formed a solid line. Jaein nodded.
“Yes,” she said, relieved that he understood. “That’s exactly what I am saying.”
He stood there, speechless for a long moment.
“That,” he said, drawing the words out as if speaking to someone slow in the mind, “is the stupidest reason anyone has ever broken up with me for.”
Jaein recoiled slightly at the words. “Clint. Don’t you see? We each have our parts to play and our parts do not mix. We cannot force this to be when it cannot. I still love you! Is that what you think this is about? Of course I still love you! It tears me apart to tell you this! But we cannot be together right now.”
A muffled thud came from the side and Clint’s head snapped to the right, searching for the cause of the noise. A lone crew worker grimaced at his dropped tool before catching Clint’s eye. The worker paled and hurriedly left the vicinity. He inhaled, his chest expanding until Jaein thought it would burst.
Letting out his air slowly, he said, in his deep, rocky voice, “I do not see how our relationship would affect our ‘roles’ in the coming war. We would see each other rarely, and we managed fine for these last few months.”
Jaein shook her head. This was a trouble with interspecies relationships. There were certain cultural and physical differences that could not be overcome without a good deal of time and patience and time, neither of which they had right now. Pthuni were a species of a single mind. They could not devote themselves to more than a single task and expect to perform excellently at it. Humans, she surmised, were likely multi-taskers. Or, she thought, somberly, Clint was a multi-tasker. It amounted to the same.
“I cannot do what I need to do if I am also thinking of you, Clint Stone. And what I need to do is far more important than the two of us.”
Clint shook his head bitterly. He spoke, biting his words. “There is nothing more important than us. We, and those like us, are the reason the Rebellion fights. To protect those we love. And you would throw that away?”
Jaein wanted to hit him. Was he being deliberately obtuse? “But I would not stop loving you. I just cannot be with you. After this war is over, then we can return to each other. But I cannot focus on both you and my duty.”
Clint threw his hands in the air, half roaring with frustration. “Fine! We shall separate for the duration of the War.” He leaned in close, his eyes staring intently into hers. “But when this war is over, I intend to find you and make you mine.”
She gave him a fleeting kiss, brushing her lips on his. “I expect nothing less.”
He shook his head as he left, muttering something about “crazy aliens and their crazy ideas”. It sounded like him. She watched as Clint climbed into his ship and climbed into the air, before departing the hangar. He would be alright, she thought. He was Clint Stone. He always was.
Now for diplomacy.
[Time: One week behind Tedix’s storyline.]
“…and that’s when your ship landed in front of me,” finished Mor-oik. He sat across the fire from Juiwa, the other Rebels filling the space around the circle. The sun had fallen below the horizon, leaving the Wastes shrouded in darkness, save for the faint light of the stars and the pool of light cast by the fire.
When Vyena had asked him to tell Juiwa the story of how he had ended up in the Wastes, from the moment of his forced enlistment to Kri-lul tossing him out to die, which Mor-oik had told the other Rebels before Juiwa had woken up, he had obliged, thinking it best to get Juiwa on his side as soon as possible. The rest of the Rebels had little difficulty accepting him among their ranks, for which Mor-oik was grateful, but Juiwa had seemed hostile from the start. Mor-oik did not blame him. Juiwa seemed to have much more of a history with the Swrun Empire than the rest of the Rebels.
Nudging Juiwa with her elbow, Vyena said, “You see why I trusted him? He’s just like us. The Empire tore apart his family, practically enslaved him, and tried to kill him. He’s got every reason to help bring it down.”