Ch. 10

Cpl. Galiena, now Chairman Luna, paced in her personal chamber suite, restless and full of dread. How she wished she could have stayed longer at the hospital. Hell, she wanted to stay all night, but knew it wouldn't be appropriate. Besides, he needed to heal.

Bastard, she thought, recalling the persuasive words of Lord Taylor, you knew, didn't you? You knew when I agreed to kill him it was Randel, didn't you? Oh God…what can I do?

She thought hard, running her fingers through her hair, gripping her head in frustration.

His spies are everywhere. If he knows about this place, he knows what happened. One false move and Claymore I will be all over us. It would be the end of everything we've done. The dream will die. I can't let that happen. I mustn't!

She sighed aloud, angry tears escaping from her good eye, and even a few from the eye she lost.

Oh, Tovarich…my beloved, my heart…you were dead to me, and so I was dead, until I came here, to this place of solitude and beauty. The fierce, raw nature, untouched by man, untouched by the horror of war…it spoke to me so clearly then. I can't be wrong, can I? The law must be upheld, no exceptions!

…but…

…but I love you…

…even after everything, I still love you.

Why did you leave me? Were you told I was dead? Did you just assume it, after the explosion?

She thought some more. Surely Lord Taylor was a reasonable man. Perhaps there was no harm in asking for leniency. It would be a relatively simple task to get the young Lieutenant Malvin to relieve Randel of his duties. All Luna had to do was list his crimes…crimes worthy of the death penalty, but she would then show mercy and grant him a life sentence here in Cavern City, like many of the others. She smiled. Such a tiny, young girl, but with a powerful presence…it didn't surprise Luna at all that Randel gravitated toward her. It was how he was trained to respond, after all.

One chance, that's all she'd need. It was an unspoken rule amongst the elders and the Rule of Three, that is, Ulric, herself and Ruby, the head nurse and head of Administration of the hospital. Many of the Shadowers, as they were originally called, were guilty of war crimes, but they were all given life sentences, so long as they vowed to live a better life, fending for themselves in WinterShadow. Later, when the Rule of Three and the council of elders were established, they set the law so that no one would ever leave the city, or set foot past the treeline, which they considered to be the border back to the "old regime." Some left after that. Most of them stayed. One place was as good as another back then. At least here is peace and quiet in the mountain. That, and a lot of hard work.

Not that they were entirely self-sufficient by any means, despite taking the name Independence. Although they could grow food and forage well in the wilderness, the rocky soil just wasn't nourished enough. If it wasn't for the supply line by the secret underground waterway, they never would have made it through their first year. The deals they made with the Empire and now Rodelia saved them.

Another growing problem was space, or rather the lack of it. The collapsed cave was just a warning of things to come. The mountain's integrity would soon be compromised if they tunneled much further. Yet, so many were still coming, here and there, to make a new life where people wouldn't stare or judge by appearance alone. To have a home and a job was more precious than gold, after all.

Could she lose it all for the Corporal? She could. Could she return to the Empire with him? No, that was impossible. Even if she wasn't the presiding chairman, she couldn't go. To be stared at, shunned, called a freak by the very people you vow to save…no. There was safety in the mountain…safety and peace. It wasn't perfect, but she was also their leader, who they looked to. She had to take care of her people.

Still…it couldn't hurt to ask for the life sentence. And why wouldn't Randel stay?

In the dark, Oland clutched his side, bothered by the phantom feeling of his lantern. It should be there with him, but it was not. Nurse Ruby had strict orders, she'd said. They knew his lantern was dangerous, or rather, made him dangerous. Of course, now he knew how they found out.

Galiena…my Gal, he used to call her. The 901st and the 902nd were developed and trained separately, then blended together. Every ATT soldier had a QST-Quicksilver Trooper paired with them to watch their backs as they advanced. While the ATTs were attacking the primary targets-the tanks, the QSTs supported them by either sniping or they cleared away any other advancing ground infantry that happened to be present. Fast, efficient, and deadly…and as for how they cleared the way…well, they weren't called Quicksilver for nothing.

The QSTs also helped the ATTs retain their humanity, and for that matter, their sanity. Left alone without orders, after their mission was complete, many became lost, uncontrollable, or just plain useless. The QSTs could prompt them if necessary, and take them out if they became unmanageable. Randel was unusual in that regard. The fact that he could remember to shut off the lantern, that he wanted to turn it off as soon as possible, was a rarity.

The QST unit was entirely made up of women. For some reason the ATTs responded better when under the direction of a woman, especially if that woman had an assertive, powerful voice, and a commanding presence. It was almost the instinctive response of mother and child, at least at first. Of course, the Caplan Institute didn't foresee the consequences of the pairings, or when death or debilitating injuries separated them. They did, however, make sure the ATTs were trained to respond immediately to their partners' voices, much like a K9 unit would. It was quite strange, truth be told…

Randel frowned, lost in half-remembered memories of training. Much of it was too painful and scary to recall. Gal would inform him of Colonel's decided strategy, and then it was up to him and his comrades to carry it out…and it proved to be successful, to a devastating degree.

Until that day, when he lost everything.

He could still see the bodies flying apart in his mind, the pieces of broken men and women landing on him and around him. They'd been set up somehow. It was a normal line of infantry, with tanks in the rear. The QSTs advanced to clear the way, only to be destroyed when it was discovered they had walked right into an enormous minefield. The mines were everywhere, and it was quickly understood that the Republic had been ready to sacrifice their own in order to stop the QSTs, and thus stopping the advance of the ATTs. They'd all been set up and were trapped. The valley was soaked with blood, so much blood it looked like a river…a river of dead and dying men…

God no, not again…

He realized he had drifted off to sleep and was dreaming. This time Gal was standing with him. He reached out to hold her, and she smiled, looking the way she did then, with two eyes like blue stars and her body a mix of alabaster and silver.

He pulled her close, and they were suddenly on land and it seemed safe. It was the first time either of them was in love, and it was awkward and funny, and she just couldn't stop giggling. Of course it was forbidden, but neither cared. It didn't matter that he was sterile, or that she couldn't… accommodate him in the usual way… He remembered how he had memorized her amazing amalgamated body when on top of her…and shuddered when the tide came in and was so very red…the stench alone was enough to make him gag.

He opened his eyes but realized he was still dreaming. Gal was no longer under him. Instead, he was back in the cave with the little Lieutenant. He didn't think about it before, since he certainly had more important issues to worry about like not being crushed by boulders, but the sensation of her tiny body wriggling under him wasn't entirely unpleasant.

But oh, the look of fear in her eyes as she stared at him, as she scrambled to get away… That was the one thing he'd hoped he'd never have to see on her. Rushing into fear and danger on a daily basis hadn't fazed her, even though she knew her skills weren't as great as others. She could point her sword at a tank and be utterly fearless…but now she was starting to learn the real danger might be closer than she thought.

And now, he knew her face by touch. The softness of her lips was seared into his brain. He cursed himself. He never should have done that, but he couldn't help it. It was instinctive to find his partner by touch in the dark. Was it a part of his training? He couldn't remember.

He looked down at her again, but was now surrounded by the dead, who were quickly pulling him back into the mire. He tried to scream, but the blood was in his mouth and he was choking on it. He panicked and began to struggle, when he felt a warm hand on his head, reassuring him. It stroked his scruffy hair, trailing down the side of his face. He also heard someone shushing him in his ear.

"It's all right, Corporal," she said. At first he thought it was Galiena, but the hand wasn't hers. It was too small, and was warm besides. It was so soothing he calmed down immediately.

"Why?" he whispered in the dream, the question he always asked her when she hit him.

If you know…if you're afraid of me…why? Why did you let me help? Why did you let me stay?

But the answers were not coming, and exhaustion finally overtook him. He dreamt no more that night.