“Freedom fighters of Baki, comrades and allies, your enthusiasm and steadfast courage gives me great joy. Though my own planet Melinar fares ill under Mong’s occupation, I see you have held out and survived. For that I commend you. Loyalty and unity are the greatest assurances for a brighter future that a leader of the people can ask for.”
Her noble presence inspired loyalty. I could see that. First time I’d seen her all cleaned up, her hair shining brilliant hues, bleached pure gold this time under a silver tiara, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink and eyes bright sparkles of fervor, of a nationalism that was, truthfully, one of my least favorite qualities in her. But if it gave these beleaguered people hope…hope against an impossible enemy who I, as much as any, wished to see vanquished and trampled in the dirt, then so be it.
“If not for these brave men and women, I would not be here. Let me introduce my friends—Jet Rusco, Wren Zalan, Noss Brekia, Blest Surok, Zan Vulder and Grild Malsi.”
We stepped forward on the low stage in turn and presented ourselves.
Sure enough, we were heroes, even as the deluded Vendecki continued to hold out against Mong’s tyranny and the frightfully large number of his attack forces posted at nearby Melinar. Perhaps Mong’s crew were thinking twice about advanced Vendecki tech poking up out of nowhere and launching an attack on their doorstep, the same insurgents who had nearly brought them to their knees at Othwan. All the same, I kept glancing out the diamond-shaped panes, waiting for the dive bombers to strike—Warhawks and missiles to come blitzing and dropping on our asses. Maybe even Mong’s agents were spying on this little congregation right now. Part of me, did not want to think about that, or even be here. Too close to enemy soil. But I’d promised Volia I’d come and I did not want to live in fear all my waking days…
A standing ovation erupted amongst the gathered rebels for our part in the rescue and daring escape. I had to grin, shaking my head in surprise. Never would have imagined an accolade like this, nor had I ever been hailed a hero before. The opposite, by many. It felt good, to tell the truth. The others, taken by surprise, laughed and looked around, trading gratifying looks at one another. Though Blest sported his perpetual frown and just shrugged it off in his usual way.
More speeches followed and Phel, the master of ceremonies, the top-ranking war officer of the Melinarians, stepped forward. An olive-skinned man of mixed Melinarian-Vendecki descent, he was all white teeth, a stiff ruff of grey-peppered hair. He launched into a spiel of how Vendecki forces were working with the defeated Melinarians to liberate their sister planet from tyranny. A valiant saga of how the forces were rebuilding themselves, new ships being deployed and manpower raised; they would conquer and turf out the imperial dictators of Jezuan before the next moon.
Yeah, right, dream on, Phel. Pure rhetoric, but it seemed to be what the audience wanted to hear.
Later at a more informal gathering at one of the VIP tables in the bustling war hall, Phel topped off my glass with fine wine and asked me point blank what I thought of the whole Vendecki program.
I shrugged, not knowing how to answer in front of the others.
“Come on, Jet. Aren’t you sold yet? Won’t you and your crew fly for us? Volia here has spoken highly of you and of your interest in helping us, offering cargo transport of arms for fair market value.”
I looked over to the Countess who wore a devil’s grin on her flushed face. “They seem to love you,” I said.
“Unlike many aristocracies, I believe that leaders are accountable to the people.”
Phel added, eager to promote his cause, “We’re mounting an assault on occupied Melinar, Jet,” he said in a conspiratorial tone. “Our hope is that Mong’s forces will take the bait. We’ll be more than ready for them this time.”
I blinked as would an owl. These people surely had a death wish, or they loved to flirt with disaster.
“We’ll retake our home world. This time with a better plan in mind and more allies.”
“Are the Vendecki in line with this?” I asked.
“Yes, they’re fierce allies.”
“To take on Mong will require a lot more than a few allies and some tough talk about general deployment and rah-rah.”
“True, Rusco, but we have friends throughout the Larga system. We underestimated Mong’s power. We’re asking for help from all quarters. Like yourself. Are you on board?”
I hesitated.
“How do you single out his ships with your jammer?” Noss asked, breaking the silence.
“It’s complicated,” said Phel. “Do you want the long answer or the short? Harg here, our com expert, can explain—” he snapped his fingers, called over a grey-haired man with a tall drink in his hand.
“Never mind,” said Noss, “I’ll assume you’ve worked out the deployment issues.”
“Our engineers, like Harg here, and other Melinarian experts, are working on a foolproof version of the jammer. A retractable antenna cached to a depth of 500M. Even if Mong or enemy patriots nuke the area, our automated defense system can raise and lower the antenna to changing war conditions.”
“Sounds good, but—”
“Where, on Twidor?” I barked, “and that other wasteland moon? How do you manage that? Mong and his rats’ll be watching those moons like cheese at a rathole after that last bout on Melinar.”
“That’s the beauty of it. They’d never guess that we’d employ the same defense tactic twice. We’ve run cloaked ships in and out and dropped men and equipment down on Twidor to work in the Dusk Caves, digging, burrowing, shielded under the rock from his onboard ship probes and scanners. The antenna’ll be the last thing to go up—and only
