Authors: Gun Brooke
“Naturally. He was the enemy. She had to protect her wife.”
The words didn’t ring true. Something in the way Andreia spoke triggered an alarm inside Roshan. “He knew the dangers when he entered the OECS,” she tried. Roshan hated to criticize a member of Andreia’s family, but the thought of Trax M’Aldovar made her skin crawl with disgust.
He’d been tremendously handsome and charismatic when they were young, and before the occupation, Roshan hadn’t known what to think of him. Brilliance paired with an evil wit made him a dangerous, devilish man. He’d once offered to bed her, merely as a bodily indulgence, and Roshan had politely declined, since she wasn’t interested in casual physical affairs. The truth was that her heart had pounded hard enough to break its restraints every time she looked at Andreia. Wisely, for Andreia’s sake, Roshan had never made it clear that he didn’t have anything to offer compared to his sister, who possessed something beyond physical beauty.
“My mother accepts me because of my popularity and whatever political power comes from that. She adored Trax and admired his unscrupulous aggressiveness. I don’t think it actually mattered to her that it surpassed his political ambitions. The fact that Mother praised him and regarded his deeds as signs of great patriotism didn’t exactly motivate him any less.” Andreia tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrow slits. “And now you want to know if I can conceal my grief over my brother’s destiny so I don’t tip the Protector and her wife off to who I am.” It wasn’t a question. Andreia’s eyes, unfamiliarly pale blue from her lenses, still revealed nothing.
“Yes, pretty much,” Roshan confessed. “We can’t risk a confrontation, as you yourself said. I need to know that you’ll put the circumstances of Trax’s death aside, for now.”
“I can’t believe you think you have to ask me that.”
“I have to. I’m sorry if you can’t see why, but you just have to get used to it. Keeping Boyoda safe is a duty I agreed on when Vespes asked me to become the liaison. I’ll take every precaution to fulfill that duty.”
“Very well. Consider the topic of Trax closed. One day when we’re old and this is merely a memory, I’ll bring it up and…settle it.”
Roshan didn’t like the way Andreia spoke regarding Trax, but was grateful that they had a consensus for now. She knew they needed to join the others and not waste any more time, but it was equally important that Andreia, as a major player in the plans they were about to forge, be prepared. “You ready to get back inside?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Andreia pulled back, freeing herself from Roshan’s hold.
“But I do.” The words were out before Roshan realized how they could be interpreted. “I do worry about you. All the time we’re apart.”
Andreia stood motionless, her back pressed against the rough wall. “I should…I mean I need to ask you why, but there’s no time. We have to go inside.”
“Yes. We do.” Roshan couldn’t move at first, and when she did, she stepped closer again, capturing Andreia between her arms, pressing her palms against the wall. “To make sure you don’t forget what I just said.” She bent down and took Andreia’s lips with her mouth, demanded them without deepening the kiss, but also without any doubt. She spread her fingers wide apart, to cover as much of Andreia’s back as possible. Roshan needed to feel Andreia close to her, chest to chest, heart to heart. She slid one hand up over Andreia’s shoulder, up to her neck, and felt her rapid, tell-tale pulse. Roshan shivered at how fast Andreia’s heart beat.
With a low whimper, Andreia relaxed against Roshan and parted her lips. Roshan was tempted to accept the silent invitation, but knew this wasn’t the time or place to increase the intimacy. She wasn’t ready for it, and the kiss wasn’t meant as that kind of caress, merely a reminder that she would be here for Andreia, but was also watching closely every word and gesture. The kiss ended their discussion—for now.
Kellen stood rigid and proud by the far wall in the mountain base mission room. Observing the sixty or so that remained of the rebels she’d once belonged to, she noticed the new faces, young individuals. They were all regarding her with reverence and something resembling adoration. Aware of the extraordinary historical moment, Kellen was grateful to feel Rae’s calm presence to her left. She wondered if any of the rebels realized her wife’s true position.
“You’ve got quite a devoted following,” Rae whispered, and raised a teasing eyebrow. “But where’s Paladin?”
Kellen gazed around the room. “There,” she replied as Paladin and O’Daybo entered. “And as for my ‘fan club,’ they’re young and impressionable. They require leadership and, I suppose, a sign that things are finally about to improve.”
“You represent that sign to them. Just remember, you’re a myth come alive for them.”
Kellen knew this was probably true. She’d grown up with the knowledge of who her father was and who she’d become. To her friends in school, a Protector of the Realm was like something out of a fairy tale. They spoke of protectors, of their heroic deeds and the eradication of one line of protectors after another during the occupation, and not once could Kellen breathe a word about her family.
“You forget something,” Kellen said to Rae, reciprocating with a raised eyebrow of her own. “You are also, by marriage, a Protector. My duties are also yours.”
Rae put her arm around Kellen’s shoulder and squeezed her quickly. “Why do you think I’m here?” she murmured. “Armeo is the son of our hearts. This is his world, his heritage. And yours.” She glanced at the barred window overlooking the plains. “It’s breathtakingly beautiful, and for me it’s an honor to help rip it out of the Onotharians’ greedy claws.”
Impressed with how bloodthirsty Rae sounded, Kellen again blessed the day she’d fled into SC space and into the arms, literally, of this woman. Never once had Rae backed away from the duties and hardship it meant to love Kellen, who’d turned out to be politically volatile. Kellen’s heart overflowed, and the emotions still seemed so new, even after more than six lunar months of marriage to Rae. She would never get used to seeing a universe of emotions in Rae’s eyes, no matter how long they were together.
She would sometimes wake up in the night, gasping from nightmares in which Armeo was lost to her and she was withering away in an Onotharian asteroid prison. During the chilling aftermath of such dreams, Rae always held her close, understood without a doubt why Kellen clung to her, shivering and sobbing.
I’ve never been allowed to think it was all right to act so weakly. Or that I’d grow so much stronger from it.
Tapping into that strength, Kellen squared her shoulders even further and raised her hand to silence the murmur among the groups. “We don’t have much time and there is a lot to discuss. We have more than 6,000 resistance fighters incarcerated planet wide. Without their expertise and aid, we can’t hope for a successful intervention by the SC. This leaves us little choice.” Kellen walked over to talk to Paladin and Jubinor who stood by a golden-glass map reader that showed the asteroid belt in great detail. “I don’t see any other way. If what your intel says is true, we need to move a few people on the inside, and provide them with technology to communicate through the force field.”
“What you suggest is suicide!” Jubinor growled. “Haven’t we lost enough people?”
“Far too many,” Kellen said. She couldn’t allow herself to get upset. “And if we don’t do anything, we won’t be able to save the ones already shipped to the Kovos prison. That’s more than eight hundred of your senior men and women!”
“And you say we could afford to let more go voluntarily?” Jubinor asked, with poison in his voice.
Paladin intervened. “We can’t
afford
to lose a single member more. Jubinor, I know…I know how this has hurt us all. But the Protector is right. We need some volunteers to go in with the plans and organize our people.”
“Just like that? And with what?” Jubinor spat.
“I have a fleet of ships that will convert into war-capable vessels with very few modifications, and you brought a destroyer, correct?” Paladin asked Kellen. “How many assault craft?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Twenty-two against the entire Onotharian armada?” Jubinor asked.
“Not their entire armada. Most of them are gathered at the SC border, anticipating an attack any day now. They have only a few ships deployed here, with skeleton crews, according to our spy beacons.”
“How detailed are your plans, Protector?” O’Daybo asked, rising from her chair as if to intercede between Jubinor and Kellen.
“Very detailed. I have several backup plans, but according to my calculations—”
“Which you’ve conducted in an alien setting, knowing close to nothing about the true situation here.” Jubinor spoke slowly, with emphasis.
“I disagree,” Kellen said calmly. “I know enough to make estimates, and if you think about it, Jubinor, you’ll admit that no plans, devised on site or not, are set in stone. There must always be room for improvisation.”
“We know that, Protector,” O’Daybo began. “We’re grateful that you’re here and—”
“You suddenly speak for all of us? You’ve never been here before. All we have is your word that your cell’s been wiped out—it’s interesting that
you’re
still here, O’Daybo. The only survivor.” Jubinor’s face was now darkening to a blue-red tint.
Kellen was about to say something when Paladin spoke up.
“Enough! Jubinor, I know it’s been horrible lately, and I think most people here will be more sympathetic to your frame of mind if they realize that your partner is among the missing.”
“Paladin, no…” Jubinor’s face distorted. “Please.”
“I know, my friend.” Paladin walked up to her teammate. “We’ll get Berentar and the others back. Just give the Protector’s plan a chance. Can you concede that she may envision the opportunities more clearly since she hasn’t been tormented with day-to-day struggles the same way we have lately?”
“I suppose.”
“And as for O’Daybo, I want to repeat what I said this morning. I know O’Daybo personally, including her true name and who she is. She’s beyond reproach. I won’t tolerate any more whispers or speculations.”
Kellen watched with keen interest how O’Daybo’s expression softened as Paladin placed an arm around her shoulders.
Yes, they know each other. Well.
Rae also glared at Jubinor. “Fine. Seems we’ve reached an agreement.” Kellen knew that Rae was not uncaring, but rather that she believed everyone should leave their personal problems at the door in order to get the job done. “Now we have to figure out who the lucky four will be.”
“Do we vote or volunteer?” O’Daybo asked.
“We consider who has the necessary skills to make this mission successful,” Kellen said. “We need people from both the SC and Gantharat. One from each to infiltrate Kovos, and the same for the smaller, but higher-security facility on Vaksses. Paladin, which ones from your team would you recommend for this assignment? Remember, they have to be seasoned rebels, and I understand that this requirement limits your choices.”
I hope you won’t choose Jubinor. He’s far too unstable right now.
Paladin regarded the assembled rebels in her team for a moment.
Kellen, who stood next to her, would have liked to know what went on inside Paladin’s head. After so many years she was still an enigma. With her sharply chiseled face and piercing eyes, she seemed relentless and dangerous. She moved with a slow grace, yet could change pace with lightning speed when required. Her voice could boom as well as growl in a frightening, low register.
Kellen wondered if Paladin ever found the time and opportunity to be the woman she was when she’d single-handedly lifted Bondar O’Dal’s lifeless body from the back of a hovercraft and carried him into the farmhouse. She had spoken about Bondar’s courage with pride and tried to console the sixteen-year-old Kellen. At the time, Kellen had hidden Tereya, ever concerned for her foster sister’s safety. Kellen remembered staring at Paladin with eyes burning from restrained tears and trying to emulate the woman’s strength and poise.
“Bury him privately, here on the farm, child,” Paladin had suggested. “Make no fuss and people won’t suspect anything. You breed maeshas, right? Tell people he was thrown and killed instantly. Here.” Paladin had handed over a small digital document. “This is a death certificate, forged by our doctor, in case anyone suspects anything.”
Kellen had thanked Paladin, kneeling by her father’s battered body lying on the bed. Staring at Bondar’s wounds, visible through the black coveralls, all she could think of at that time was how she’d be able to care for, and protect, Tereya. It was daunting to realize that at sixteen years of age, she was the only living Protector, destined to guard the only remaining O’Saral Royale.
“Commander? You all right?”
Kellen snapped back into the present and blinked at Commander Grey’s tone. “Yes. Can you repeat what you just said?”
Owena—tall, dark, and almost as lethal as Kellen—frowned slightly. “I should be one of the volunteers from the SC. I resemble the Gantharians and could quite easily fool the Onotharians for the time being. My physical strength isn’t like theirs, but I’m skilled in hand-to-hand combat.”
“You are. I agree. I’ll be the other one.” Kellen glanced at Rae and wasn’t surprised at the fine lines around her narrow lips. Rae wasn’t happy, but would never argue in front of anyone else.