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THEY STOOD BESIDE the Brognan, an oasis of quiet in the large hangar bay. All around them echoed the sounds of repairs and maintenance, demanding shouts and the clunk of machines ricocheting past them. A sombre and subdued Tarsk stood across from Kara, Zeph and Maktin a step behind him, wary eyes trained on them. Isra and Daku were ready to board, the former still tense. Kara didn’t think she’d ease until they’d made contact with the Sword and Shield. She flicked her eyes to Tarsk again, not wanting to leave him here, but knowing this was his decision, his way of protecting them. They’d already risked exposing Isra, and every hour they stayed made it more likely.
Once Tarsk had made his offer, none of them had argued. When they’d come to the Dark Zone, boarded this mothership, they thought they’d be able to blend into an anonymous and disinterested jumble of rejects from the Empire, instead they’d encountered a well-organised group, a fledgling society. One in which they were obvious strangers. Having Isra declare that their leader was also a Dralden had not reassured Kara one iota. It had reaffirmed the growing certainty that they had to leave, and soon.
If only they didn’t have to leave Tarsk behind in order to obtain safe, unhindered passage out of here. For all that Arlen was her brother, his loyalty lay with these people, not her. She understood his thinking, understood how valuable Tarsk’s skills were to them. She didn’t like it, but she understood.
Arlen strode towards them across the hangar, his face tight as he contained his emotions. With a small nod he acknowledged Zeph and Maktin. One hand tapped against his thigh before he abruptly turned to her.
With a jerk of his head, he ordered her to follow him to a workroom. He stood aside as she entered, shaking his head at the other guards with him, before stepping inside and closing the door. Long benches took up most of the space in the room, ship parts scattered over the surfaces in various stages of repair. Kara leant back against one bench, crossing her arms as she waited for Arlen to speak.
He absently toyed with an arc wrench, his body taut. “You can stay here. You don’t have to go.” His words were low. He flicked a look at her before he went back to turning the wrench over in his hand.
“The decision’s made. Tarsk is remaining on the condition we get unobstructed passage out of here.” She raised one shoulder and let it drop, her body at ease.
“You’re accepting this extremely calmly,” Arlen bit out dropping the wrench and crossing his arms as he glared at her.
“What do you want me to say, Arlen? That I don’t want to leave my friend behind? Am I supposed to argue and fight you?” She tipped her head back and took a deep breath. “Of course I don’t want him trading his freedom for my release. But this is the position we’re in. We’ve sided with different people, different nations, different ideals. Despite everything, I am still loyal to the Empire, I’m still an aide.” She held up her hand, forestalling his reaction. “You think they’ve cast me out, and that I should have no reason to return, to fight for them, but I’ve always known that one day I may be vilified. And it’s happened. But now is the very time they need me the most, when the threat to the Empire is the greatest. How can I leave people unprotected and unaware of the real threat to them? I have to go back and help in any way I can. If I don’t, then what was the point of everything I’ve endured, everything I’ve lost?” She blinked, the feel of tears in her eyes still strange, but the emotions true. “Can’t you understand that?”
“They’ll use you and leave you for dead. How can you go back to the very people that’ll do that to you?” Arlen clenched his jaw, and she could tell he still couldn’t understand why she had to do this.
Suddenly her frustration at him boiled over and she narrowed her eyes. “Stop being so blindly hateful of the people we both grew up with.” She poked him in the chest, and despite her anger, she controlled the pressure—she’d not leave a bruise. He blinked down at her and dropped his arms in surprise. “Do you really think that everyone is going to just follow the law and space me without a thought of their own? Look around you, half of this mothership is filled with people that left the Empire because they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, follow its laws. I came here with three other Imperials who all knew about my bio-cybernetics, and who are very much loyal to the Empire, and do you see any of them threatening to cast me out?” She sucked in a harsh breath. “No, you don’t. Because life’s not that clear cut, not that easy. But these people will fight for me, and protect me, even at great expense to themselves. You can’t even guarantee my safety or acceptance here, and you know it.” Arlen paled, the skin pulling taught across his cheeks. His eyes flicked away from hers before slowly returning, defeated. Kara softened her voice. “I have the chance to make a real difference and to finally put an end to the atrocities that have been committed. You’ve been giving back, helping here. Can’t you see I need to do the same? And if I fail, so be it.” A sad smile pulled at the lips. She’d never really thought she’d live this long, but she had, and now, when she finally had so much to live for, she would most likely die. But at least she’d had this chance, and she wouldn’t waste it on regrets. If only her brother could understand that.
He scraped his hands back through his hair, his fingers interlocking at the base of his skull as he bowed his head. They remained like that—Arlen head bowed, Kara quiet—for several long minutes. Outside the room, the sounds of ship life were both muted and distant, but also sharp and close. The clang of tools dropped on the hangar bay, discordant, yells and curses, both angry and amused splitting the air, all against the background of low rumbling engines. There was a part of Kara that wanted to remain here, to let go of the worry, the planning, the fear of what the future held, and simply give in and stay with her brother. She’d adapt, start working on those ships out there, on the security systems; make a place for herself here.
But she’d already made her choice.
Isra and Daku were waiting outside, ready to leave, anxious even. Tarsk was stoic, for once his lively body still, voice sombre. She didn’t know when she’d see him again, or if she ever would. As much as she hated leaving him behind, she knew it had to be done. There was no other viable option, for she no more wanted to fight these people than her brother wanted to keep her locked up.
Arlen raised his head, dropping his arms. “Tarsk” He paused, swallowed and started again. “He’s the one that looked after you—your implants?”
She briefly tipped her head forward in acknowledgment.
“So if we keep him here, and you’re...injured, who will operate on you?”
Her gaze remained steady as she said, “There isn’t anyone else.” It was the truth, there wasn’t anyone else she would trust, her implants weren’t mechanical parts, but integrated seamlessly, completely, and irrevocably into her. Any other doctor wouldn’t even know where to start working on her, let alone know how to keep her alive, and not just in a vegetative state.
“Then how can you even think of leaving without him? You could die.” His voice rose in frustration, his hands clenching. She faintly shrugged, but didn’t answer, didn’t repeat her reasons. She’d faced death so many times now that she’d accepted it as an inevitable reality, there wasn’t any point fretting over something she couldn’t change. Didn’t point out that he’d set them on this path. They’d found and lost each other again.
He closed his eyes, opened them. Stared at her in distress, clearly torn.
She straightened and touched his shoulder. “Have a little faith, and remember, I’m a bio-cyber and we’re a hard lot to kill. Trust me, I know. Take care of Tarsk for me.” She carefully squeezed his shoulder and whispered a small blessing their mother had often said. “Eternities be with you always, and may they keep you safe.”
He dragged her into a hug that would have been crushing, if not for her inhuman strength, before he straightened and pulled a mask of composed command over himself. They came back to the Brognan, with nothing more that could be said between them. Isra raised a faint eyebrow in query, but Kara minutely shook her head; they’d discuss it later. She turned to Tarsk and stared at him. Why had she spent so much time angry with him back on New Mornag? If she’d known then—but there was no point regretting, no point wishing for something that couldn’t be changed.
Tarsk stepped forward and bunted his head softly against hers. They stood there, their foreheads pressed together. For a split second, Kara again considered damning the entire Rhaslok Empire and throwing away all the years spent protecting them to remain here, with Tarsk. With her brother.
But her sense of duty was too strong, too ingrained. As she’d just told Arlen, she couldn’t abandon them, not now.
She took comfort from knowing that Tarsk’s presence on this mothership would be valued and of far more help than if it was her that had remained. He’d be able to save Calli, and for that she was grateful.
She blinked rapidly, taking a discreet breath, before pulling calmness around her like a favourite, worn-in jacket, both reassuring and comfortable. The sense of suppressing her emotions was second nature, and familiar. Isra was right, she’d numbed herself to the world, as much or more so than the Sword and Shield ever had. She’d just gotten so used to the lack of feeling that she hadn’t realised anything had changed until memories of her past had come crashing back to her on Geejo. She knew she didn’t have to be this way anymore, but right now she did. She couldn’t afford to go to pieces. Not over Tarsk being left behind. Not knowing when, of if, they’d meet again. Not over finding her brother alive, only to lose him all over again. Not over heading back into certain danger and an Empire slipping into turmoil. She needed to remain calm and focused, able to protect Isra and be the Shadow.
Duty came first.
“Investigate their leader,” Kara breathed, barely moving her lips. Isra had said he was a Dralden, but she could be wrong. Or she could be hiding something else from her, it wouldn’t be the first time. Either way, she needed to know who and what this leader was.
His ear twitched, and he blinked, acknowledging her direction. “Take care, Kara cub,” Tarsk said slightly louder, for their audience. “And worry naught for me, I’ll soon be back to badger you.” He tried a smile, but it was half-hearted with no flash behind it.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She straightened, knowing it was time to leave.