Nyehehe... I'm back! A lot faster this time, too. I managed to finish this chapter in about one night, so that's why you guys aren't waiting a month for this next update. Agghhh! We're finally at a part I have been waiting to write for agesss. I honestly didn't think I'd make it this far, but hey, I surprise even myself sometimes.
RECAP:
- The Bounty hunters and pirate briefly got captured by a mountain tribe. Luckily, a pair of rebel fighters came across them and freed them. They are now on their way to the rebel base in earnest. Arthur and Matthias are both still suffering from poor health.
- Matthew spoke with Feliks, Tori, Gilbert and Roderich about his brother. He is uneasy about the odd change of pace around the resistance recently. He also asked Vlad to protect Lukas and Emilia if need be, which has spiked the other's curiosity.
- Octavia is planning something (which will FINALLY be revealed in this chapter).
NAMES:
Ines Jakolin: Slovenia
Mei: Taiwan
Leon: Hong Kong (in case anyone forgot)
Ehsan Karimi: Iran
Kabeeta Tripathi: Nepal
Ayshe Kartal: Ottoman Empire (I'm aware that Turkey is the Ottoman Empire in the anime, but here she's a separate person)
Please review! It inspires me to write more! \('-')/
Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma
22nd Maarch
Octavia reclined against the wall, drawing in a breath. It was just after dawn, and light was just starting to spread across the roofs of their tents. She could almost feel the silence around her. Normally, the resistance buzzed with activity. But in these dark, fledgling hours of the day, hardly a soul stirred. The only ones awake were those with night duties, and even they would be retiring to bed by this time, as their day-worker counterparts awoke and began the day. The only real sound came from the whittler-birds which had started to roost in the trees above them, and the soft scraping of scorpions burrowing into the dark sand.
She had sent out the call to her closest allies not long ago. Most of them wouldn't see it for another few hours, until they woke up, but she wanted it to be out there as soon as possible. She knew that the word could spread through the day, delivered by and to her most trusted friends, those who she knew would support her in this endeavour.
Distantly, Octavia wondered what her sister would say to this. Helena had been older, smarter, sharper and wiser. Every word she spoke had held weight in this rebellion. From the first day of the expansion, she had been a devoted soldier. The death of her husband on Daerna wasn't enough to break her spirit. Rather than run and hide in fear, she had taken her son and lived. She had continued to fight, and taught everyone else around her to do the same.
It hadn't been anything resembling a surprise when her sister had started to gain promotions. She held the rank of Lieutenant General in just three years. Octavia had wanted, more than anything, to be like her elder sister. Helena had been respected by everyone she came across. She was one of Arshad Teymouri's closest confidantes, and had been a vital part of his council for years. And, without fail, her sister was always right.
She had advised Arshad against sending soldiers to the Ventak stretch in Daerna. A week later, the entire area was demolished with the strongest bombs the Union had to offer. Helena had told Arshad to travel to Misor to answer the call of a supposed sympathiser. Rather than be exposed, the resistance had gained over a hundred new members, all ostracised by the new pro-Union regime. Helena had stood firm against a council of 14 others who declared her wrong, and stood by her statement that Blackbird, the rebel accused of allowing the Arden Massacre, was innocent until proven guilty. Months later, when the truth came tumbling out, Helena had held her head proudly, revelling in her intuition while 13 others hung their own in shame and reconsidered their own perceptions.
Always right…without fail. But what would she say to this? Octavia could imagine her sister's viewpoint going either way. On the one hand, Helena had always told her to stand up for what she believed, to be brave and strong and do what it took to protect the ones she loved. But on the other hand...Helena didn't believe on judging people based on petty factors. Octavia had brought herself to admit that her suspicions were not based on innocent perception. Despite her best efforts, there was a part of her which fuelled her observations with a tirade of vicious commentary. She tried her best to silence that part of her. After all, he had treated her with immense kindness in the past. She didn't forget that.
But this went beyond that. The rebellion was at risk once more from a spy in their ranks. She couldn't live with herself if she was responsible for another massacre through her own disinterest. She could be wrong; more horribly wrong than she had ever been. The chance that her perception was without error was small. But the feeling of wrongness which had sat in her gut for weeks could not be ignored. It just couldn't. She had to do something, or risk facing the wrath of her own besieged conscience.
Octavia glanced around. Zev was making sure that all of their preparations were properly in place. He had been so eager that she had agreed to let this happen, but unlike normal, his excitement had failed to rub off on her. She ran her hands up her forearms anxiously. Despite Zev's, and her own assurances that this was the right thing, guilt was hollowing out a canyon in her stomach. She shook her head slightly. She needed to get her head on straight, if she was going to do this and do it right. Nonetheless…
"Forgive me." She murmured as she straightened up and brushed invisible specks of dirt from her plain uniform. Octavia turned on her heel, marching toward her tent, toward a revolution.
South-East Border of Coysashi Territory,
Nyma,
22nd Maarch
It was to the eternal chagrin of the group of them when they were roused by dawn breaking. They had slept on a small stone plateau, quite low compared to the rest of the ragged mountains, but there had been nothing to shield their eyes from the burning brightness of the sun on their cheeks.
Mei's mood plunged even further into the depths of irritation when she saw that their guides, the two rebels, were already awake, with all of their possessions packed away, looking impatient. She shuddered slightly as the Colonel's eyes fell upon her, frowning as the woman watched her quickly pack her meagre supplies into a ratty bag, which she quickly slung over her shoulder.
Despite the pain which he must have been in, Matthias raised an eyebrow, looking disgruntled. As he opened his mouth to speak, most likely to complain about something, the young man – whom they still knew only as 'Lieutenant' tossed him an apple. Catching it with surprising deftness, though the movement was accompanied by a wince, the vivacious blond stared at it for a moment, before shrugging and starting to eat. Mei rolled her eyes. Clearly, breakfast had been what was on his mind. She patted herself down to ensure she had everything, before darting after the group, which had already begun to move.
Mei glared at the back of the rebels' heads. Honestly, though walking with them at the crack of dawn was vastly preferable over imprisonment at the hands of the mountain tribe, the whole situation still unnerved her. The woman, who had told them her name was Ines Jakolin, had explained that the tribe which had captured them was known as the Dolyagor. As Jakolin had said, they were mostly harmless, but that they had never been completely content with certain agreements they'd made. As such, foreigners travelling through their territory made them antsy. The way Jakolin had said it, it sounded like nothing really bad would have happened to them. Nonetheless, Mei was grateful that they were now free of them. Even if their 'guides' might be little more than a new set of captors.
Speaking truthfully, Colonel Jakolin herself seemed friendly so far, and had never tried to pry about their situation, or even how they had been captured, for which most of them were grateful. No, it was her companion who unnerved them all. Though Jakolin might not be someone who Mei might want to be intimately acquainted with, she at least acted like a normal human being. The Lieutenant was like some sort of robot. His stamina never seemed to flag, he woke up seemingly before everyone else, and never spoke to any of them. As if to add to his mysterious and detached air, his face was concealed from them. He wore a black mask resembling those worn by bikers over his mouth, and a set of reflective goggles which hid his eyes. The only part of his appearance that Mei had been able to glean was that he had fair skin and slightly messy blond hair. He clutched his gleaming sniper rifle like a child would a beloved doll. He unnerved her, and everyone else, too. According to Ines, it would take them about another two or three days to reach their base. She honestly wasn't sure that she wanted to spend so much time in the Lieutenant's company.
Mei glanced around at their odd band of travellers. Though Matthias seemed okay, being helped along by Berwald as he was, their own boss was lagging behind. She shifted her gaze, and her eyes met Leon's. He nodded at her slightly, and she began to slow her steps a little, until she had fallen into step beside Arthur. She nudged him slightly with her shoulder. He looked at her, and she sucked in an alarmed breath.
His skin was as pale and wan as it had been when they'd arrived on Nyma, and his eyes, normally a bright and vivid green, were dull as moss on a riverbed and framed by dark circles which cut sharply into his cheekbones. Mei's eyes widened, and Arthur tilted his head away, smiling bitterly. As she opened her mouth to speak, Leon stepped into place on Arthur's other side, raising an eyebrow at their boss.
"So, are you actually going to tell us what is going on with you this time, or will it be more stoic silence?" Leon asked coolly. Arthur's jaw clenched, and Leon sighed. "Got it. You know, it wouldn't kill you to tell us how we can help."
"I'm aware." Arthur said sharply. Leon rolled his eyes.
"Right, of course." He muttered, sounding almost resentful. Mei couldn't help but echo a little of his emotions. She had always thought that Arthur trusted Leon and her. She knew that she would trust him with just about anything. Whatever was ailing him, though, he was being stubbornly silent on. Her train of thought was interrupted when Arthur stumbled. Without even thinking, she lurched forward and grabbed his arm to steady him. Leon, she saw, had done the same. Arthur blinked, looking from her to him, before drawing himself up a little.
"Thank you." He murmured. Mei sighed. Despite everything, despite how angry Leon could get about things, she knew that the two of them would always try to help Arthur. Even if the blond tried to shove them away or dismiss them, they would always try to be of use to him, until the end. After what he had done for them, it felt only right. Mei felt like she could never repay him properly. She had tried to get him to accept money, favours, anything really. He had rejected it all.
She still remembered the last time she had attempted to give him money, barely six months ago.
Mei shifted from foot to foot, trying to gather up the courage to knock. Even after over two and a half years in his service, seeing Arthur was still a daunting action. The recent expungement of multiple crew members didn't help her nerves. She and Leon had held fast, saying that they wanted to stay. The look he'd given her then had been almost frightening. She had only just turned fifteen, and she knew that a part of the Captain wanted to tell her to take some money and get a proper education and job. But he was too proud to show what he was feeling. Even though she and Leon were far from the most skilled, or even the most valuable on his crew, he hadn't argued with them, and hadn't pushed them to leave, either. His answer to their declaration had been a simple shrug of the shoulders and a dismissive, "Whatever you wish".
Finally growing tired of her own anxiety, Mei leaned forward and knocked, sharp and loud, on the door. She withdrew her hand immediately, as if the cool metal would scald her, and rubbed her hands together as a low voice called "Come in!" from beyond. The door slid open, and she stepped inside.
They had only had this new ship, lovingly christened the 'SS Mutiny', for a few months, but Arthur's room already felt as lived in as his previous one onboard their old ship, the SS Renegade. His bed was unmade, it's many blankets strewn around haphazardly. The walls were covered in photographs, newspaper clippings and blueprints – the layout of everything ranging from a telescope to a high-security vault was visible on his walls. He had opted out of using the overhead light, and she could see the Captain himself sitting by his beloved antique desk, scrawling away by the light of a small gas lamp. He didn't bother to look up as she came in. He never really did.
"Yes, Mei?" he inquired as he pulled another sheaf of paper from his desk and began to skim his eyes over something. She hesitated. He had reacted badly to her offer last time.
"Uh, I just wanted to talk to you." This actually made him pause, and he glanced up, bright green eyes making her chest constrict.
"About what?" he asked slowly, placing his pen down on the table's surface. She averted her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
"I just, I mean…" she trailed off, seizing hold of her courage as she continued. "I've been earning a lot recently, as I'm sure you know. I've done some calculations, and I think I could start to pay it off. I have nearly fifty thousand marks saved right now, I could start from that–"
She broke off as Arthur's hands landed on her shoulders. She cast her eyes downward. She'd done this several times before. He had never reacted well to it. To her surprise, however, he didn't sound angry when he spoke.
"Mei…." He trailed off, seeming to be lost for words. Gathering the remnants of her courage, she looked up and met his eyes. He looked as lost as he sounded. Arthur loosed a great sigh, and his hands dropped from her shoulders, and he rubbed at his forehead. "How many times do we have to do this before you understand?" her stomach dropped, and she expected an angry rebuke for her actions. Hanging her head, she waited for him to get angry.
Suddenly, Arthur's hands were back on her shoulders. She met his gaze again.
"How many times do I have to explain that I will never make you pay me back for that?" he shook his head. "Honestly, Mei, we've been through this before. I don't care if you become the richest woman in the galaxy, I will never accept a cent from you." She blinked.
"Arthur…" she trailed off, feeling her eyes prickle as she looked down. Mei tugged at her loose shirt. "I just…it was a lot of money, that's all." Arthur shrugged.
"I earned back everything I paid and more in about six months. Trust me when I said it wasn't a massive financial burden. Besides, I feel I have benefitted more from our arrangement than you have." Mei shook her head, feeling tears start to run down her cheeks.
"Impossible." She scoffed gently, turning away.
"Hey," Arthur took her face in his hands, expression shockingly gentle, "not a cent, okay? You don't need to repay me for anything."
Mei's composure lasted for about ten seconds, before she began to sob in earnest. Arthur withdrew a little, glancing toward the door, which was firmly shut, before he wrapped his arms around her and brought her into a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, shaking slightly.
After a few moments, she pulled away, laughing wetly as she dried her eyes. Arthur offered her a handkerchief, which she took with a quiet word of thanks. He was smiling slightly.
"I'll consider that cost to be fully repaid if you never tell anyone about that." He said. Giggling, she nodded, crumpling his handkerchief in her hands. He sighed, shaking his head a little. "Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, tone cool and calm again. She nodded, and he smiled at her again, just as gentle as before. "In that case," he said, "you have duties on the deck with Eduard, do you not?" straightening up, she had nodded, giving the Captain a mock salute before scurrying from his room, already feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
He had always given her what she needed. He hadn't done what he had the day of the windy, downtown auction in South-Eastern Xexei because he was looking for some sort of favour from her. He had done it, and she genuinely believed this, because he was a good person. He didn't need to spend so much money for her. He could have walked away, but he'd chosen to help someone in need. She wasn't keen on leaving his service any time soon, if ever. Though he never vocalised it, Mei knew that Leon felt the same.
She was pulled from her reverie when they stopped walking. Somehow, in the middle of her reminiscing, she'd ended up with her arms around Arthur's shoulders, supporting him. Leon had done the same. Arthur gently shook them off, shooting her a small, pained smile as he limped over to where the others were lowering themselves to the ground to rest.
Mei frowned, but didn't dare try to ask about his health again. Arthur had had fluctuating health issues for, as far as she knew, as many as five years now, but he had never let on what sort of issues they were. She'd had to, at one point, inject him with something, but he had never told her what it was, what it was for, or what it did exactly. She knew it wasn't really her place to ask, but her curiosity continued to burn and simmer nonetheless. Shaking her head to rid it of such thoughts, she seated herself next to Yael, happily accepting the food passed to her, wishing she could ignore her own deep-seated fear that, despite all that he said, this time Arthur wouldn't be okay again.
The atmosphere had shifted since this morning.
If Yao had been on edge before, he was experiencing full-blown paranoia by the time the sun began to sink in the sky. All day, he had noticed the odd behaviour of those around him. Some, like Matthew, had been unchanged in their demeanour, but he noted the pairs of eyes which followed his movements. They almost seemed to increase throughout the day.
His skin crawled with the weight of their stares. He had swivelled to face one such observer more than once, only to have them drop their gaze, and in many cases, cease their conversations as well. He knew that he had more eyes on him, but the camp had been quieter than normal today as well. He had people's ears trained on him as well, it seemed. For the life of him, he couldn't discern why. He knew that, given the whole situation with Dana, many people harboured resentful feelings toward him at the moment. But this was less an opposition to his decision than it was a silent tirade of suspicion.
He had been uneasy all day, his feelings of discomfort rising to an almost exponential level. It had peaked about an hour ago, wherein his paranoia had been bad enough so as to make him physically sick. He had calmed himself down a little since then, but still felt exposed. It was as though their stares were picking him apart, slicing through his barriers, both physical and mental, and laying him bare for the whole world to see. He felt violated and raw, like every secret he had ever held was being whispered in the ear of every rebel around him.
He drew in a breath as he observed the latest analysis reports from their sources around Syhvva. Most of the rebel groups there operated underground, unable to do much for fear of being discovered. Though no Syhvvanian would ever betray another, the entire planet crawled with guards and Union soldiers. Many others would have looked at the bare basics of the defences on the planet and dismissed it as an impossible goal. Yao looked at it and felt a thrill of excitement. A real challenge, his mind murmured, already skimming over how their many security systems and fail-safes could be overridden. He forced his attention away. They didn't have the sort of traction and stability that they needed to make a move on any of the Free Courts. Even if they did, in any case, Syhvva would not be their first target. They had strong ties with the Fynknian Rebel Front, and Daerna's defence was the weakest of the three. Either of those two would make a more fitting place to start taking the fight to the Union's front door.
He smiled ruefully. They knew slightly more about Syhvva's current predicament than those of the other two, but the information was essentially useless, given how incredibly weak their position there was. His gaze drifted to the vast console to his right. Raneem was manning the controls today, and was helping funnel communications around the room. No matter what time of day or night, their comm tent was always alive with noise. It was the place from which they received and transmitted signals and other messages. Many years ago, he had been on the other side, desperately broadcasting a message containing vital information into open space, praying that the equipment in this room would register it. Raneem had briefly been his contact – the person to which he passed his information – during that time. He nodded at her as he passed, and she shot him a kind smile back. Though not dispelled, his nerves were soothed, and he stepped outside the tent.
Despite the lateness of the day, heat still lingered in the air, as was customary on Nyma. A gentle wind somewhat alleviated the effects of the temperature, though, and he sighed as he felt himself cool down slightly. He wished that he could discard the full-length clothing he always wore, but until he saw someone more severely scarred than himself, it just wasn't a viable option. He had never wanted to be pitied.
Even in his first days off the Arbiter, after the daring, seemingly-impossible mission undertaken by some of the rebellion's best which had helped him regain his freedom, he had hated to be looked at with pity. He had been reluctant to see Kabeeta again. She was their head medic, and a miracle at surgery, but he had known her. He'd helped her in the infirmary during the one period of time he'd stayed at the actual resistance before his capture. At that time, given the mental and physical state he was in, he didn't think he could have stood another person's sympathy and horror.
But Kabeeta had greeted him with kindness, even managing to do so without a trace of pity in her face. She had fixed him up as much as possible, and kept him strictly to his bed for weeks, but she had never said anything resembling 'sorry'. That was part of what had managed to pull him back from the distant, detached state he had been in before. For weeks after he was freed, he been unreachable. He spoke to no-one, hadn't responded to anything or anyone. Not even the appearance of a silent, regretful Arshad could draw him from his stupor. Kabeeta's careful ministrations, Kari and Romeo's almost daily visits, and his growing familiarity with Ayshe – the fighter who had personally saved him – had brought him back to himself.
Slipping his gloved hands into his pockets, he wove between the tents, deigning to occasionally call out or raise a hand in greeting when he spotted someone with whom he was more closely acquainted. The eyes were still following him, but rather than anxious, he now felt weary, down to his bones. This entire week – no, this entire month – had been hectic and exhausting. He felt prepared to lay down on the ground and sleep for the rest of his life. As someone who hadn't slept a proper eight hours a night since he was about 25, that said a lot.
The atmosphere shifted again, some of the watchers on his side withdrawing and turning the other way, as he felt new gazes pierce the back of his neck.
Yao went rigid, and spun on his heel, heart nearly stuttering to a stop.
Octavia stood a few metres from him, hands clasped professionally behind her back.
"Good afternoon, Yao," she said coolly, "can we talk for a moment?"
The message had spread throughout her loyal masses during the day, just as she'd wanted. It had been less subtle than she had hoped for – Yao had looked pale and drawn since late morning – but the message was out. Ismeta had been lingering by the communications tent for close to an hour when she had come to Octavia, to tell her that Yao was finally moving again. Octavia drew in a deep breath, turned to Zev, and nodded once. It was about time that they settled this.
Some of her underlings had circled around him, like they'd discussed. Standing in front of him now, she very nearly lost her nerve. Shaking herself slightly, she drew herself up a little, reminding herself with a glance that she had Zev on her left and Ehsan on her right. Yao looked confused, even a little scared.
"Good afternoon, Yao," she began, internally celebrating when she managed to sound calm and controlled, "can we talk for a moment?"
The man was silent and still, staring at them all for a moment. She could understand his shock. He was completely surrounded by rebels, most of which, if not all, had weapons drawn. None of them were pointed at him, but their visibility was enough. Whatever colour remained in Yao's face fled.
"What about, exactly?" he asked, voice croaking a little. Octavia shifted a little.
"I had hoped to have the conversation in private, truth by told." It was what she had intended – for the whole affair to be quiet and subtle. Yao's eyes narrowed, and he cast his gaze around them.
"And will they all be part of that 'private discussion' as well?" he asked, gesturing to them with a broad sweep of his arm.
She remained silent, tilting her chin stubbornly. He fidgeted. "What is this about, Octavia?" Yao's voice was quiet, borderline deadly. Despite the courage of her supporters, she could see some of them flinching away nonetheless. Octavia had never personally witnessed Yao's temper at full force, but many here had. It must be fearsome, she thought. Let's hope it does not show itself here.
"The past few weeks, the entire resistance has been absorbed in the hunt for a spy. We know several things about them. We know they supposedly wear long clothing a great deal of the time, to hide advanced audio recording technology. We know that they possess technological skill. We know that they have been with the resistance for anywhere between four and twelve years. We know that they have high clearance." She levelled a look at him, pouring every ounce of fury which she felt into it. "Do you want me to continue?" Yao stared at her.
"You…you think I'm the spy?" He said. His tone was quiet, shocked, on the verge of completely disbelieving. Octavia glared at him.
"I believe what is in front of me." She snapped. "Who here knows what you look like without those long sleeves on, or those gloves? You have the highest clearance possible. You are awake at all hours, which would make it only too easy for you to pass information undetected. You have been working for the resistance for over ten years."
"Octavia–" Yao started. She cut him off.
"No-one here could give your age, or your birthplace, or any personal details about you beyond your name!" She was shouting now, but didn't particularly care. If it was him…if he was responsible for endangering everyone within this rebellion…
"I am not a traitor!" he yelled in response. "Do you really think that rebels are so stupid as to elect someone they don't trust?"
"I am not a judge on what everyone was thinking six years ago. And, in any case, everyone can be manipulated, and results can be tampered with." Yao was staring at her, despondent. She raised her chin again.
"I am not a spy." He said quietly, sounding shell-shocked. Octavia hardened her gaze.
"That's what you say." She stared at him disdainfully. "You've been considered a traitor, before, Blackbird. What's the difference now?" She saw the shift in his eyes. The sound of his old codename brought a flash of emotion into his eyes. With a small shock, Octavia realised she had actually hurt him.
She turned to two rebels standing by. "Take him."
The two unslung their flint rifles from their backs and approached him. He took a step back, but was unable to move away as they seized his arms. He struggled, attempting to pull away. Octavia frowned, starting forward a little. She was wise enough to know that Yao was much stronger than he looked. He looked stunned, even as he struggled against their grips.
"I am not a traitor!" he spat at her, still trying to pull away from his captors. She bit her lip briefly, before she turned back to the two guards, who were looking at her inquisitively.
"Hinder." She stated simply, feeling slightly sick even as the command left her mouth. The guard gripping Yao's left didn't hesitate. He seized the blunt bat hooked on his belt, slamming it into Yao's left knee. His leg bent inwards sickeningly, though Yao didn't make so much as a sound. He drew in a sharp breath, but didn't cry out, even as the awful popping noise of a joint dislocating met Octavia's ears. She locked her jaw, forcing down her nausea as Yao staggered, before being dragged back upright by the two rebels. Again, they looked to her for her decision. She nodded.
"Octavia," Yao groaned, voice slick with pain as the two began to drag him away, toward the separate cell which they had decided to keep him in, "I'm not a traitor, please, you know that." Octavia shook her head, trying to drown out his pleas.
"I don't know that." She said stubbornly. He stared at her, and she saw the last spark of hope die in his eyes. Knowing that he would stop fighting, she turned away.
"I brought your sister home for you." He whispered.
Her entire body seized up, and she clenched her hands into fists as tears gathered in her eyes.
"I know." She said, voice thick. "And I thank you for that, Yao, I do. But this needs to be done." He was silent for a moment. "Have doubt in everything, and you will be able to predict anything." She recited quietly.
"Even me?" he asked quietly. Octavia twisted slightly, finally meeting his eyes.
"Yes, Yao, even you." She responded. He closed his eyes briefly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Fair enough." He murmured. Octavia jerked her head to the two rebels again, and they continued, pulling a now complacent Yao away from the small crowd of rebels. Zev placed a hand on her shoulder as the Yanish man disappeared from view, but she jerked away from it, whirling around and marching off as she dried her tears.
This didn't feel right at all.