Authors: Gun Brooke
“Perhaps it’s this method, this almost
pacifist
approach, that’s caused our conflict to last for almost three decades!” another voice, male and raspy through the scrambler, exclaimed.
Andreia saw the contours of the resistance member’s profiles as they turned to look at the man who had just spoken.
“You’re out of order, Jubinor,” Vespes admonished.
“The Onotharians are a callous, uncaring people, with greedy, calculating minds. They don’t do anything unless it benefits them. We should use their tactics. Speak to them in a language they understand!” Jubinor objected.
Paladin rose, and Andreia watched her put her hands on her hips. “At what cost? Do these people, the callous, greedy, and calculating Onotharians, sound like anyone you’d like to emulate?”
“I’ve fought for the resistance for more than twenty years!” Jubinor spat.
“So have I!” The two figures, outlined by the indirect light, approached each other. The woman placed both hands on Jubinor’s arms. “We will
not
compromise our values.”
Andreia’s throat constricted and she had to swallow repeatedly. So much hatred for her race, for her, if they knew who she was. In fact, many Gantharian-born Onotharians loved this world and its people. They were as much victims as the indigenous people.
“Take your seats,” Andreia said, and fought to keep her voice under control. “We don’t have time for an internal squabble.
“Both Jubinor and Paladin have valid points. We need to change our tactics without compromising our values, and it’s time to move things up a notch. We’re low on manpower, and our window to carry out any type of rescue operation is extremely small. Review the data that will arrive in code on your console, Vespes, and decide which one best meets our needs. At that point we will begin deliberate planning and operations. Decide quickly. The window of opportunity will commence in sixteen lunar cycles.”
“Understood. When can we meet again and confer about details?”
“Once you have made your decision, contact me through our regular channel. Because we are operating on such a tight schedule I’ll need a liaison, someone I can call on a secure channel. An experienced senior officer who can expedite the necessary plans and preparations that will be needed.”
“I agree. Paladin is our most seasoned member, apart from myself.”
Something about this suggestion disturbed Andreia, either the woman’s posture or her strong, unbending tone of voice. “Very well. Paladin, outfit yourself with a Class 1 transmitter and use encryption mega-five. I’ll contact you tomorrow evening, and we’ll change channel encryption according to protocol.”
“Yes, Boyoda.” Paladin obviously had herself under control again. “Will I rendezvous with you at some point?”
Andreia forced herself not to flinch. She knew the group of resistance leaders could see her much more clearly than she could see them. “I doubt if we’ll need to meet in person, at least not at first. We’re in a vulnerable situation, much more so now, with the latest raids.” Andreia refused to let the rush of guilt flood her when she thought about how she’d failed to deter the covert Onotharian operation. “However, when the Supreme Constellations becomes involved, we may have to.”
Paladin seemed to be lean and muscular. As tall as the man next to her, she resolutely folded her arms in front of her. “Very well, ma’am. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“Good. Now, we have another issue. For the first time since the occupation, an Onotharian chairman is visiting Gantharat.” Andreia paused, examining the cell members’ posture for signs of surprise. The men and women in the first row of seats didn’t move, but the ones sitting in the back turned toward each other, as if astonished.
“I heard Chairman M’Ocresta is here,” Paladin replied. “A rare opportunity.”
Andreia nodded, her voice solemn. “It is. We’ll talk more about this later.”
“What can’t you talk about in front of the capital’s senior officers?” Jubinor interrupted. “I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”
“Jubinor!” Paladin growled. “You surprise me. The reasons should be obvious.”
Andreia agreed. Jubinor’s shortsighted outburst could signal that he was cracking under pressure.
“Jubinor,” Andreia now said as she rose to her feet. “Surely you appreciate why we have to be so careful. If my identity becomes known, you’ll fumble in the dark, and
then
you’ll have to fight the same dirty way as the Onotharians do, harming innocent and defenseless people.”
The man sat down, seeming less disgruntled. Paladin also took her seat, crossing her legs.
“Fine, you’ll receive my transmission to the main computer before morning. I’ll be here for a few more hours, working. In the meantime, we need to come up with contingency plans, covering every possible eventuality, if we hope to save our captured comrades.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll get right to it,” Vespes said, and rose. Bowing deeply, he spoke the traditional words. “Boyoda, well met again.”
“Well met, Vespes,” Andreia replied. She turned her attention to the tall Gantharian woman next to him. “Paladin, until later, then.”
“I’ll be available throughout the night, ma’am.”
“Boyoda out.”
Sweat poured down Andreia’s neck under the black hood as she punched in the command to shut off the view screen. She knew she had to wear the hood until she got home, but she’d love to tear it off and unbraid her hair that itched so badly. The tight-fitting head covering was all that kept her from risking complete exposure, which would lead to utter failure. She was far too well known and, she surmised, hated, to let anyone see her face. Still, this new working relationship with Paladin might change that. Soon she’d have to trust her, a respected member of the resistance, with her secret, and Andreia shuddered at the thought. This cloak-and-dagger routine had become second nature over the years, and the mere thought of revealing herself to anyone made her skin prickle.
She swung her chair around to face her desk. “Desk light on, point-nine illumination.” She began to pull up reports and other documents on her computer, proud of how she, with Ily’s help, had managed to outfit her Onotharian state-of-the-art piece of technology with enough Gantharian seals to ensure that the resistance could decode the messages. The resistance worked with far less advanced equipment, having progressed almost not at all during the twenty-five years of occupation
.
Andreia loathed how the people she considered her countrymen suffered under the oppression of the people whose blood ran through her veins.
If she could only figure out how to mobilize the Gantharians, to ready them for the war the Supreme Constellations was about to engage in for their sake. Andreia scrutinized several documents before she saw a possibility. Energized, she straightened her back and leaned closer to her computer screen. Daring? That was putting it mildly. Doable? Perhaps. Worth a try? Definitely.
Roshan attached the Class 1 transmitter to her belt and pulled her jacket down to cover it. Boyoda hadn’t called yet, and Roshan had to return home before dawn. Traveling these roads during the day was too risky.
“So you’re the chosen one,” a voice said behind Roshan as she put her gloves on.
Roshan glanced over her shoulder at Temmer. “Seems like it.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that Vespes skipped my presence when he volunteered you. I’ve been a member of the senior staff longer than you, after all.”
Roshan didn’t know how to tell Temmer that Vespes probably considered her too old, and perhaps too indecisive. Her skill as a medical planner was indisputable, but her tactical skill in combat wasn’t as astute. Perhaps Temmer’s brilliance only soared when she thought about saving lives.
“True, but only by a few lunar cycles,” Roshan agreed. “Vespes nominated the person he felt was best for the job. And you know my allegiance is rock solid.”
Temmer frowned. “You seem tired and a bit…off, after the last turn of events, though. Sure you’re up for this? Boyoda’s bound to ask you to do magic.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Roshan injected dead certainty into her voice. She knew when to sound self-assured, and this was one of those times.
“Fine, then.” Temmer turned her palms up.
A muted beep from the transmitter at Roshan’s belt interrupted them. “Excuse me.” As Roshan walked away, she peeled her right glove off and pressed a button on the transmitter, engaging the inserted earpiece. Made of 95% human membranes, it wouldn’t show up on scanners when she entered secure buildings. “Paladin.”
“Boyoda. I need your input. Vespes just contacted with me with his decision on which course of action we’re going to proceed with.” Boyoda’s voice sounded scrambled and low-pitched over the audio link. “I’ve come up with some initial planning factors and estimates that need to be fleshed out. This mission will take some ingenuity and, of course, will be dangerous.”
“What’s new,” Roshan said. “Everything I’ve done in the resistance has been dangerous, more or less.”
“More, rather than less, Paladin, I’m sure.” Boyoda was quiet for a while. “I need to transmit these documents, and they’re for your eyes only. I’ll encode them, but after you’ve read them thoroughly, destroy them.”
“Affirmative, Boyoda.”
“Excellent. Class 1 transmitters have a memory chip, if I’m not mistaken.”
“No, you’re correct, Boyoda.” Roshan thought she detected a trace of fatigue, or was it resignation, in Boyoda’s voice. Pressing a command into the transmitter, she continued. “Ready to accept the document.”
“Transmission in progress.”
A blue beam that glowed around the device on Roshan’s belt confirmed that data was downloading. She’d have the computer read it back to her on the way home, then delete it completely. “Is that all for tonight, Boyoda? I need to get home before sunrise.”
“So do I. Contact me tomorrow evening with your response.”
“Understood. Paladin out.” Roshan tucked her jacket down around the transmitter and made sure her small computer was safely stored in her inner breast pocket. The computer automatically connected to the mesh-wiring in her garments, which interfaced with her transmitter and earpiece. She then headed toward her hoverbike.
Mounting the bike, she powered the engines and sped through empty back alleys and deserted country roads, the early morning air was crisp around her. She was tired, but eager to examine Boyoda’s documents. It was extraordinary to work directly with the mythical leader of the resistance. Over the years, the Gantharians had progressed from simply admiring her to worshipping her as a major hero. Roshan knew Boyoda had to have extraordinary insight into the Onotharians’ business and tactics, as well as an extraordinary tactical sense that helped the Gantharians mastermind their assaults against military installations.
Roshan turned a corner, tired and lost in thought, and was relieved to see that the small dark road was empty. It led to one of the well-hidden entrances to her labyrinth of tunnels, but she was debating if she should take the hoverbike across the fields to save time, when a sudden movement to her right caught her attention. Roshan slowed down and stopped as three sleek hovercraft pulled out from the trees farther down the alley. They faced her and seemed to wait for her to approach them. Roshan scanned the area and saw two hoverbikes similar to her own pull up on her left.
“Damn,” she muttered. She’d taken this dark road many times, and this was the first time she’d met this many vehicles. They had to be Onotharians, since the Gantharian population usually couldn’t afford bikes like these. She didn’t hesitate any longer. Pulling the handlebars to the left, she forced her bike to turn quickly in a narrow circle. It almost stalled, but she knew exactly how to handle the auxiliary thrusters that the technicians at the mountain camp had equipped it with.
Roshan turned the right handle farther and sped just above the field where the resistance against the uneven surface turned the ride slightly jerky, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. A glance in the rearview monitor showed the five vehicles careening after her at a maddening speed. Roshan knew she had to lure her pursuers far away from the tunnel’s entrance. If they found it, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the truth.
She thought fast and knew she had only one way out of this, the small path through the dense forest at the outskirts of the village. Riding a hoverbike through the dense growth in daylight was hazardous enough, and at night it was close to impossible. Still, it was her only chance to shake the Onotharians and leave them guessing as to whom they’d tried to intercept.
Twigs and branches reached for her, tangled with her arms, and almost yanked her off the track. At this speed, any careless maneuver could make her hit a tree trunk head-on. A dark shadow appeared only a short distance ahead, and Roshan ducked just in time to feel the large branch smack the top of her helmet. The hoverbike wobbled precariously underneath her for a few seconds before she managed to straighten it up.
Beams of piercing light cut the darkness like laser-scalpels, followed by a loud noise of falling trees and an unmistakable smell of burning wood.
“
H’rea deasav’h
!” Roshan cursed through stiff lips.
They’re using laser-pulse weapons to clear a path.
It was unsettling how much they wanted to catch her. An eerie thought struck Roshan as she took yet another hairpin turn. What if they knew who she was? Was there a traitor among the ones who were captured during the massive Onotharian raid?