Home of Mickey Minner

It is sometime in the future or, perhaps, the past. The planet Organi is under attack by the mercenary forces of the Alliance, a conglomerate of mining interests that want to exploit the natural resources of Organi just as they’ve done on countless other planets throughout the universe.

Organi’s defenders are the Mainlanders who inhabit the planet’s west hemisphere, an area dominated by a solid mass of land stretching from one pole to the other. And the Islanders who inhabit the east hemisphere, a large oceanic area dotted with thousands of islands none bigger than a hundred clicks long. The Mainlanders are a people recently transplanted from their traditional home planet of Retha after eons of abuse and exploitation made it uninhabitable. Yet the Islanders are a people that have called Organi home for hundreds of generations. The two groups are separated not only by their choices to live on opposite sides of the planet but also by their cultures and histories.

Though their differences are strong, the Mainlanders and Islanders have joined forces to form the Confederacy and fight to prevent Organi from being stripped of everything of value and beauty only to be left a barren uninhabitable wasteland.

Thus, as is always true when greed becomes paramount in the hearts of some, a war is fought to protect a way of life.

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Once covered by a thick forest of tall pine trees, the Xantrop valley had been home to a multitude of animals living on the valley’s rich foliage or within the pristine waters of the river flowing through it. But the Xantrop River no longer flowed in the channel it had followed since before Organi was populated by the Islanders. Its waters were being diverted into a holding canal where the precious liquid could be suctioned up by Alliance water transports then transported to other planets in the galaxy that had poisoned or otherwise destroyed their own water sources.

The once tranquil valley itself was now an unnatural abyss, stripped of its beautiful forest by the mammoth and highly efficient tree processing machines the Alliance created to ravage forests leaving nothing of value behind. More than five men tall and twenty men long the mobile lumber mills were capable of chopping down more than ten trees at a time, then immediately stripping the trunks of any unwanted limbs and bark which was burned in the machine’s furnace. The trunks and usable branches were run through a labyrinth of laser beams that efficiently cut the wood into boards which were then stacked into cargo transports that trailed behind the machines. Operated by robots and powered by the debris-fed furnaces, the processors work non-stop quickly decimating a forest to leave nothing behind but a thick pale of black smoke hanging in the air and deep ruts gouged into the ground by the heavy traction wheels.

Occupying the once lush but now barren valley was Beta II, an Alliance prisoner-of-war camp and home to both Mainlanders and Islanders that had been taken prisoner in battle. Roughly thirty paces long and half as many wide the camp sat in the middle of the deforested valley, surrounded by high mountainous ridges of snow-covered peaks and rocky crags.

Sitting on the steps of her hut, Sergeant Teragleli Arhina reached up to roughly run long fingers through unruly sandy blond hair and gave her scalp a good scratching. She stretched her arms over her head, twisting her back to limber up unused muscles. Life in a prisoner-of-war camp was full of too many long days with little to do and her usually supple body was showing signs of the forced inactivity.

Far in the distance the sergeant could hear a low, unmistakable rumbling. Turning her head to look in the direction of the clearly recognizable sound, she spotted bright flashes of explosions that could only mean one thing – another battle was raging. How much longer she wondered could the Confederacy hold out against the seemingly overwhelming Alliance forces. Each battle meant more prisoners for the camp and it was already over-crowded.

Unable to do any more than wonder, Sergeant Arhina stood, turning away from the sights and sounds of the battle to enter her hut, knowing she was in for another long day.

The afternoon calm was shattered by the scream of powerful engines thrusting dozens of Confederacy tasars through the sky. Flying in a tight formation, the airships burst from the low hanging clouds that had been hiding them and roared toward their target. In answer to the tasar attack, missile launchers were pointed skyward and fired as rapidly as the awkward guns allowed.

Captain G. Tarphan Midd, piloting one of the tasars, broke from the rest of the formation in an attempt to knock some of the missiles from the air before they could reach their targets. An expert pilot, she quickly positioned her tasar into a perfect spot to take out the first missiles but when she pressed the button to fire her weapons nothing happened.

“Damn it, Gunney,” Captain Midd shouted over her right shoulder. “You have to lock and load the weapons BEFORE I can fire them.”

“I’m trying, Captain,” a young soldier nervously cried. “But it’s my first time doing this.”

“I know, Gunney,” the captain softened her tone. Combat was not the best place to have to get on the job training but the shortage of qualified gunners made it necessary to place the recruit in the tasar’s rear seat on this mission. “Just concentrate on locking in the weapons and let me take care of everything else. Okay?”

“Yes, Captain,” the soldier tried to relax by blowing out a long breath.

“Good. Now lock in all the ground rockets we have and DUUCKKK.” Captain Midd punched a button on the control panel in front of her causing the tasar to veer sharply to the left. “Damn,” she muttered when the radar screen showed she had not avoided the missile locked on her tail. “Gunney, belay that last order. Lock in a blast star and make it quick.”

Touching the weapons display in front of him, the gunner shakily performed the necessary actions to fulfill the Captain’s command. “Locked,” he triumphantly cried out.

“Good,” Captain Midd looked out the windshield of the tasar, computer displays were okay but she liked a good old fashion visual of a target. “Hang on to your lunch, Gunney,” she chuckled, pressing the button to release the blast star and at the same instant punching in the command for the tasar to start an immediate vertical climb.

“Ugh,” was all the gunner could manage to force out of his throat as the tasar heads straight up into the sky leaving his stomach several thousand feet below the rest of him.

“Gotcha,” Captain Midd yelled when the radar screen displayed a blank spot where the pursuing missile had just been. “All right, Gunney,” she called to the young soldier, “lock in the ground rockets and let’s get this mission over with so we can go home.” She reversed the direction of her tasar, flying it directly downward towards the planet’s surface.

The gunner, his skin tone slightly green, struggled to keep his stomach from emptying as he fingers the weapons display. “Locked,” he said weakly, wishing he could be any place else at this particular moment.

A quick look at her map display showed Captain Midd that her present location was approximately fifty clicks from her intended target. Her eyes flicked over to the radar screen that, thankfully, remained empty of enemy rockets. Next she looked at the screen displaying the positions of the other tasars accompanying her on this mission. ‘Damn,’ she thought silently, ‘only half as many as we left base with but we still should have enough to destroy the target.’ “Here we go,” she set the tasar on a flight plan that took it parallel to the terrain below them.

Looking out the tasar’s windshield, the captain saw the target coming up fast, a small cluster of buildings in a treeless clearing uncluttered by any living organism for hundreds of clicks in any direction. Confederacy command received intelligence naming this location as the main Alliance transfer center. If it could be destroyed the Alliance forces would be unable to prepare any more harvested resources for transport off the planet and, thus, preventing ability of the Alliance to fulfill its trade contracts. No trade meant no profits. No profits meant no capital. No capital meant no funds to continue hiring mercenaries to fight against the Confederacy. Which meant no more war.

As her orders instructed, Captain Midd focused her attention on one building set off a little from the others. Locked in on the target, she was bothered by the seeming lack of any visible protection for such an important site. Not to mention that no cargo ships or transport carriers could be seen anywhere in the clearing. She saw the other tasars releasing their weapon loads and as she followed suit the knot growing in the pit of her stomach continued to tell her something was wrong. She flew directly for her target, the cannons situated on the bottom of the tasar firing rapidly. Her eyes followed the rockets until they struck the target, literally cutting the building in half as they exploded on impact.

Captain Midd sensed more than saw the danger, a ball of flame seeming to burst out of the ground and head directly for her tasar. The speed of the object was too great to outrun and Captain Midd knew she had no choice but to hope for the best. “Prepare for incoming, Gunney,” she yelled, punching in every avoidance maneuver she could think of to escape.

All fail.

“Eject, Gunney, EJECT.”

An instant after Captain Midd pulled the ejection release her tasar disintegrated into a billion pieces.

“Cruiser coming,” Sergeant Arhina heard the shout from where she sat inside her hut. Stepping out of the dark hut, the sergeant paused to allow her eyes time to adjust to the harsh sunlight before looking towards the front of the prison yard where an Alliance prisoner transport was pulling to an abrupt stop on the other side of the security barrier.

Several soldiers, interested in the transport’s arrival only because nothing else of interest ever occurred in the camp, hurried past the hut on their way to claim a better viewing spot. Some passed without acknowledging the sergeant but those wearing identical uniforms as hers took the time to salute, their right arms sharply bent at the elbow with a fist thrust against their breastbone. Sergeant Arhina returned each salute just as precisely.

“Hope there isn’t too many of them,” a soldier said as he walked by, “don’t have many empty bunks left.”

Sergeant Arhina silently agreed with the man, her eyes scanning the prison camp’s crowded yard. At the sound of the transport’s heavy door being slammed shut, she turned her attention back to the new arrivals and was surprised when only one prisoner could be seen being helped out of the transport.

“Damn, is that who I think it is?” Recognizing the new prisoner, a Mainlander soldier quickened his steps.

“Sure as hell looks like her,” another soldier laughed.

“Oh, hell,” the first soldier groaned, “wonder where they picked her up. And why the hell they had to bring her here.”

Intrigued by the exchange, Sergeant Arhina bounced down the steps in front of her hut, ambling along behind the others. Normally, she didn’t go to meet the transports, as she didn’t feel the need to scrutinize the prisoners entering the camp. Though she was the highest ranking Islander in the camp, she held no official position within the camp’s command structure and left any indoctrination to the camp’s Mainlander officers. Besides she knew that any Islanders would seek her out and had found it more comfortable meeting them in a more personal setting without the commotion usually surrounding their arrival at the camp.

As the sergeant reached the soldiers crowding near the barrier where the transport was parked, some of them offered to let the sergeant pass through to the front. But she smiled in acknowledgment of the gesture while shaking her head to refuse, content to stay where she was at the rear of the assembly.

“Get back,” a burly Alliance prison guard growled at the swarm of prisoners. “Clear a path or I’ll shoot her where she stands and leave her carcass for the tigers to finish off.

Knowing the guard meant what he said, the prisoners quickly shuffled back clearing a path for the soldier to enter the prison yard.

“That’s more like it,’ the guard sneered as the prisoners retreated.

The prison camp was surrounded by a fence consisting of a single strand of specially designed conductive wire strung on posts spread ten strides apart. When power was fed through the wire, a highly charged vaporizing field was created for several strides in all directions around the thin cable. Any thing or person to be careless enough to come into contact with the invisible barrier would be vaporized within the blink of an eye. It hadn’t taken the prisoners long to figure out that any attempts to penetrate the invisible barrier meant an instantaneous death.

Where the prisoners gathered, a crude portal had been fashioned by two posts placed on either side of a gate which was just wide enough for a single person to pass through. Approximately, four strides in front of the gateway, a metal box was mounted on top of a short post pounded into the ground. Reaching up, for a small chain hanging around his neck, the guard pulled it free of his shirt. Firmly grasping the key at the end of the chain, he inserted it into the lock in the box cover and swung it open. Punching a code into the keypad secured inside, he waited for the bell tones signaling the power to the deadly security barrier had been shut off. The guard pushed his prisoner forward to the gate.

“I know you’re curious,” the Alliance guard addressed the prisoners as he pulled the gate open. “So I’ll give you the good news. The captain here is the only survivor after thirty of your tasars tried to destroy a worthless group of empty buildings. Go on,” the guard violently shoved the soldier through the breach as a murmur of frustration rippled through the prisoners at the information. “Your pals are waiting to welcome you to your new home.”

“Why looky there,” a soldier standing near Sergeant Arhina snickered as the new prisoner stumbled trying to regain her balance, “if it isn’t Captain Midget.”

When several other prisoners laughed at the man’s comment, Sergeant Arhina felt the hackles on the back of her neck bristle.

“With the rate your side is losing tasars, it won’t be long before this war is over and you find yourselves working in the mineral mines. Just a little something for you to look forward to.” Laughing contemptuously, the guard closed the gate and reset the security code before locking the box and climbing back into the cruiser. Moments later, he sped away leaving a choking cloud of dust as the only evidence he was ever there.

After regaining her footing, Captain Midd glanced at the encircling sea of faces looking for any familiar ones. She wasn’t too surprised when she recognized several of the soldiers staring back at her. Nor was she surprised when none stepped forward to greet her. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Straightening up to her full five foot six inch height and seeming to sense an impended confrontation, she asked, “who is in command here?”

“Captain,” a lanky soldier stepped out from the others, his right hand raising to his forehead in more of a wave than a military salute. “I’m Lieutenant Hovart, ranking Mainlander officer and Commander of Beta II.”

“Lieutenant,” the captain’s return salute was razor sharp in contrast. “You can consider yourself relieved. I will be assuming command of this camp.”

“Captain,” the lieutenant’s voice betrayed his annoyance with the order.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“No, Captain,” the lieutenant scratched his nose. He didn’t hide his displeasure from his features as he carefully considered his response. “Just think you might want to know what you’re taking on before you make any brash decisions. Being in charge of a prisoner-of-war camp isn’t exactly something you can just show up and do.”

Captain Midd took a deep breath before answering. It wasn’t the first time her abilities had been doubted by someone who knew nothing about her. “Lieutenant,” she began calmly, “military code states that the most senior officer shall assume command of any military facility. Does it not?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“This camp qualifies as a military facility, does it not Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Captain.”

With the knowledge that the lieutenant wasn’t the only soldier in the crowd questioning her capabilities, as well as her authority, the captain kept her voice steady and free of emotion.

“And I am now the most senior officer in this camp, am I not?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Then I’m assuming command. I ask again, Lieutenant, is there any problem with that?” Captain Midd’s eyes bored into the vexed soldier.

“No, Captain.”

“Good. Now that we have that settled, I’d like to get some shut eye. I haven’t slept since before the start of my mission. So if you would be so kind as to show me to the officers’ quarters before I collapse. Once I get some sleep, I’ll want to talk with you and the Islander camp commander about the operations of the camp.”

“I’m the only commander in this camp.” Finding himself once again at the receiving end of the captain’s cold glare, the lieutenant quickly revised his comment. “I mean, I was the only commander.”

“You were ranking officer of the Mainlanders,” Captain Midd studied the faces of the soldiers surrounding her as she questioned the lieutenant’s claim. “But I see several Islanders among you. Who is their officer?” Receiving no response, the captain sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it. But her attempt to calm her rising anger wasn’t as successful as she had hoped. She was tired and frustrated and on her absolutely last nerve and when she finally spoke all of that and more boiled out of her. “Who is the commander of the Islanders, Lieutenant?”

“That would be me, Captain.” Seeing the exasperation on the captain’s face and the irritation on the lieutenant’s, the Sergeant decided to answer the question. Making her way through the soldiers to where the captain was standing, she said, “Sergeant Teragleli Arhina.” Stopping in front of the captain she smiled, executing a proper Islander salute with her fist to her chest.

“Sergeant,” Captain Midd returned the salute with a rigid right hand to her forehead. “You are the highest ranking officer of the Islanders?”

“Sergeant is as high as we go,” Arhina nodded as she answered.

“You don’t have officers?”

“Didn’t feel a need for them, Captain,” the sergeant shrugged.

“Alright,” Captain Midd accepted the response. “Shall we continue this conversation in the officers’ quarters?”

“Um, Captain,” Hovart uneasily shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other while doing his best to avoid looking directly at his new senior officer.

“I’m afraid what the Lieutenant is struggling to tell you,” the Islander interrupted the embarrassed man, “is that I don’t bunk in the officers’ hut.”

“Lieutenant,” Captain Midd eyes narrowed as they again bore into the man, “make room for the Sergeant immediately.”

“Actually,” Sergeant Arhina spoke before the lieutenant had a chance. “Space being kind of short in most of the huts, it would be easier if you shared mine. There’s an empty cot in it.”

Captain Midd considered the offer as well as the woman that made it. The sergeant was several inches taller than herself, with a head of unruly blonde hair and a friendly smile that seemed to spread quickly and easily across her face under a pair of gleaming deep turquoise eyes. She stood tall showing off a trim body that was a little thin for her height and the captain assumed that probably had a lot to do with living in a prisoner-of-war camp. She instantly liked the sergeant and decided to accept her offer rather than continue standing in the heat to argue with the uncooperative lieutenant.

“Very well, Sergeant, lead the way. Lieutenant, I’ll expect a complete briefing about the operation of this camp as soon as I get some sleep. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Islander huts are over there, Captain,” the Sergeant said, motioning toward the eastern end of the camp.

“The Mainlanders and Islanders don’t share quarters?” the Captain asked, astonished that such division would be necessary in a camp full of soldiers that were fighting side-by-side to save their homes.

“No,” Lieutenant Hovart grunted as if the answer should have been obvious.

Sergeant Arhina remained silent, she didn’t approve of the policy but it was the way the camp had been organized when she arrived and she never felt it her place to try to change it.

“Well,” Captain Midd muttered, turning away from her junior officer and the crush of soldiers behind him, “we’ll have to see about that.”

“That would be up to you, Captain,” Hovart muttered.

The Sergeant glanced at the disgruntled lieutenant. ‘This spitfire has sure riled up the troops,’ she smiled to herself, turning to follow the captain.

“Same old Captain Midget,” someone grumbled after the women. “Always trying to make everybody play nice.”

Captain Midd tensed at the comment but didn’t break stride as she marched across the prison camp.

Sergeant Arhina found herself having to hurry to catch up with the quick striding Captain. As she followed behind, she studied the new camp commander. She wasn’t tall but not short either, despite the unusual nickname some of the Mainlanders had for her. Her frame was lean and well toned which was to be expected of a seasoned military officer. Shoulder length chestnut hair framed a oval face whose most striking feature were a pair of mahogany eyes that the Sergeant had already seen could sparkle when the woman smiled or bore a hole clear through you if she was irritated. The captain intrigued her and she was looking forward to learning more about the beautiful woman.

“Captain,” the sergeant called out stopping the officer’s misdirected progress. “My hut is over there,” she said, pointing to an unassuming structure sitting slightly apart from rows of identically sized huts.

Wordlessly, Captain Midd adjusted her steps.

As the women walked, now side-by-side, the Captain noticed that every Islander they encountered made a point of properly saluting the two ranking officers. On the other hand, the Mainlander soldiers were a mixed bag. Some smartly saluted the pair, some gave them a lackadaisical impersonation of a salute, and a small group made it obvious that they did not feel the pair deserved any respect at all.

“Damn, I hate having to constantly prove myself to these military lifers,” the Captain muttered.

“Excuse me,” Sergeant Arhina glanced over at the Captain.

“Oh,” the Captain Midd paused while another group of soldiers walked by. “Don’t mind me,” she said after considering it might not be the best way to start her command by grousing openly about the soldiers she may one day have to depend on to carry out her orders. “I just need some sleep. My brain has turned to mush.”

The Sergeant nodded as if she understood which in some way she did. It would take a blind man not to see the open hostility some of the Mainlanders directed towards their new commander.

“Door’s open.” The women had reached the hut and Sergeant Arhina motioned for the Captain to climb the steps first. “Bunk to the right is yours,” she said as soon as they were both inside.

“Thank you,” Captain Midd made a beeline for the cot. “But to be honest, I’m so tired I could fall asleep on the floor.”

“I think you’ll find the cot a bit more comfortable,” the Sergeant laughed. “I’d offer you a hot shower but we only get those once a week and you missed yesterday’s.”

“Oh, boy,” the Captain dropped onto the edge of the cot to remove her boots. “Sure hope you can stand me for another week, I’m pretty ripe already.”

“Don’t worry; we’re all pretty ripe by bath day.”

With her feet free of the heavy boots, the Captain stood back up, removing her uniform jacket and looking around the hut for a place to hang it.

“Don’t have a closet,” the Sergeant seemed to read her thoughts. “But I’ve fashioned a couple of hangers to keep things off the floor,” she handed the Captain a shaped piece of wire.

“Thanks, Sergeant. Teragleli wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but you can call me Terri. That’s what my family and friends call me.”

“Thanks,” the captain smiled greatly relieved she wouldn’t have to get her tongue around the native woman’s name every time they talk.

“It is a mouthful, isn’t it?” the sergeant chuckled when she saw the relief on the captain’s face.

Midd’s face reddened with embarrassment, realizing the Islander had understood the reason for her relief. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Arhina said, nonchalantly. What about you, Captain? I already figured out you don’t think much of being called Midget.”

“No,” the word was spate out. “I’m sorry,” Midd sat back down on her cot, then laid down. “It’s been used by the lifers ever since I put on that damn uniform. Their way of getting even with me for spoiling what they thought of as a private club, I guess,” she explained as her tired body relaxed against the thin mattress.

“You’re not regular military?” Terri asked, settling on her own bunk.

“No,” the Captain sighed. “When the war started, I wanted to do my part so I joined. The lifers didn’t take too kindly to pilots being made instant officers. Not to mention that I have a tendency to try and do things by the book,” she yawned. “Anyway, to answer your question. When we don’t have to use our titles, name is Tarphan but my friends call me Tarp. Feel free to do likewise.”

“Will do, Tarp.” Hearing no response, Terri looked over at the captain to find her fast asleep on top of her blankets. She stood, pulling the blanket off her cot and carrying it the few strides across the room to the other cot. Carefully, so as to not wake the officer, she spread the blanket over the sleeping woman. “Sleep well, Tarphan. You’re going to need all the rest you can get.”

Terri studied the sleeping woman for several minutes before turning away to go outside and give the captain some privacy. She also wanted to see if she could gain any insight as to how the Captain received her unwanted nickname by listening to conversations among the prisoners in the yard. But she didn’t have to go far for the answer. As she turned away, her eyes fell on the jacket hanging on the wall next to the captain’s cot. Above the left breast, standing out in bright white letters against the jacket’s dark blue material was Captain Midd, G.T.

“Wonder what the G stands for,” Terri murmured as she left the hut.

‘You’ll never know’, Tarp thought to herself. Rolling over onto her side, she opened one eye to watch the sergeant leave.

“Think that guard was telling the truth, Advisor?” an Islander soldier asked as soon as Terri exited her hut.

“About what?” Terri asked, stepping down to the ground.

“The Alliance destroying thirty tasars.”

“Don’t know.” Terri considered the question as she continued walking in a direction that would put her directly in contact with the vaporizing fence. Just before she entered the deadly vaporizing field, she changed her direction so that she was paralleling the barrier.

A path, worn into the ground by a multitude of uncounted boot steps, encircled the prison camp and several times a day the sergeant walked this perimeter. She told herself it was to keep her muscles toned, but she knew it was mostly just to pass the time. She nodded a greeting to the Islanders joining her.

“The guards usually exaggerate anything they tell us,” Terri finally answered the question. “There is no reason not to believe this guard was doing the same.”

“Yeah,” one soldier agreed, “they said they took out a hundred last month at Glentown but Pleicy said only fifteen tasars were actually on that mission.” The soldier named a prisoner who had arrived shortly after the battle. “And most of them made it back to base.”

“And don’t forget the time they told us over fifty were shot down trying to reclaim Batter’s Landing,” another soldier added.

“Right,” the first soldier answered. “The Alliance only shot down one tasar that time.”

“Best not to put too much credence in what the guards say,” Terri said as following the footpath. “It’s not in their best interest to be truthful.”

“You’re right, Advisor,” a soldier acknowledged. “What about the new commander?” he changed the subject, curious to know what the sergeant thought of the recent arrival.

“What about her, Steevl?”

“Doesn’t seem to be like the others.”

“No,” the sergeant agreed as she walked.

“Think she’ll try to put a end to the separation? I heard some of the Mainlanders talking and they say she doesn’t believe in separating Mainlanders and Islanders. They say that she thinks if we are to share Organi, we must learn to live together.”

“A wise woman,” Terri murmured.

“Advisor,” another soldier asked expectedly, “do you think she’ll force them to mingle.”

“I think,” Terri smiled at the soldiers walking with her, “we should continue our walk in silence. It does little purpose to anticipate the future. I’m sure Captain Midd will inform us of her intentions as soon as she has had a chance to observe the camp’s operation. Let’s give her time to speak with Lt. Hovart.”

“He shows her no respect,” an older soldier spoke for the first time.

“Yes, he calls her Captain Midget,” a young female soldier snickered.

Terri stopped and gazed at each of the soldiers accompanying her. When she spoke, her words were soft but those who heard understood her message.

“It is wrong to speak of another in such a contemptuous manner. I am sure Captain Midd does not appreciate to be treated so disrespectfully and it is my wish never to hear that phrase again spoken by an Islander in this camp.”

“Of course,” the female soldier bowed. “My sincerest apologies.”

Terri reached out, placing a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I speak only what I know to be right.” Wanting to be sure the young soldier understood her words were not meant to censure but rather to show that she should be aware of another’s feelings, Terri waited for the young woman to meet her eyes. When she did, the sergeant smiled and gently offered, “shall we continue our walk?”

“Yes, Advisor.”

“Damn,” Lt. Hovart glared as he watched the sergeant begin one of her many daily walks. “Bad enough we got that Advisor in camp,” he sneered. “Just what we need now is Captain Midget.”

“Come on, Lieutenant,” another soldier standing nearby asked, “she can’t be that bad can she?”

“No?” Hovart focused his glare at the soldier, “when Midget was learning to fly the tasars, she kept asking why the Islanders weren’t being trained to fly. Can you imagine that? Islanders flying tasars.”

“Might not have been too bad an idea,” the other soldier shrugged. “Way the Confederacy keeps running out of pilots, we could use the help.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Look, Hovart, we all know you don’t like Islanders,” the soldier continued. “Why, I don’t know considering they’ve never done anything to you. Heck, you never even seen one until the war started. But the Captain is in charge now and if she says we need to get along with them, I don’t see what harm it can cause.”

“You get along with them if you want,” the lieutenant turned away from the soldier, “but I’m not trusting any Islander to watch my back.”

“You’re in a prison camp, Hovart,” the soldier laughed, walking away to leave the lieutenant alone with his tirade. “Doesn’t look like having a Mainlander watch your back did you much good.”

“Fool,” Hovart grunted.

“So what do you plan to do?” another soldier asked the disgruntled lieutenant.

Hovart muttered, “if I could figure out a way to get through that damn fence, I would leave this camp to Captain Midget. And good riddance.”

“But you can’t,” the soldier grinned. “You’ve been trying for how long now?”

“Got to be a way.”

“In the meantime?”

“In the meantime,” the lieutenant brushed the soldier aside, “I plan to see what’s for chow tonight.”

Captain Midd’s eyes slowly blinked open as she stretched her limbs to loosen the sleep-tightened muscles. She didn’t know how long she’d slept but whatever the length of time it didn’t seem to be anywhere near what her exhausted mind and body required. She considered rolling over and letting sleep reclaim her but her sense of duty refused to allow the action and she reluctantly pushed herself upright.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the cot, Tarp looked around the hut she would be calling home for who knew how long. The first thing she noticed was that she could easily cross the room in any direction by taking six long strides. Her cot was pushed up against the wall on the north side of the square hut and a second seemingly uncomfortable looking cot occupied a similar position on the west wall. A poorly built table and matching pair of chairs were pushed against the south wall, closer to one corner of the room than the other. The remaining wall contained the only entrance to the hut, with the door set slightly off center in the wall. The corner of the room between the hut’s door and the unsteady table was separated from the rest of the space by walls that rose only half way to the ceiling. A drape hung across the small cubicle’s opening and it didn’t take much imagination to guess that the partitioned corner contained the hut’s toilet facilities.

Except for the cots and table, the room was unfurnished and unadorned. No windows broke the planes of the walls, the dark interior brightened only by a single quartz lamp hanging from a wire hooked over a beam supporting the ceiling. The lamp was turned down low and Tarp wondered if her missing roommate was responsible for that. Standing, she pulled the borrowed blanket off her cot and carefully folded it before returning it to its rightful place on the sergeant’s cot.

Padding to the middle of the room to allow plenty of space, Tarp began a series of stretching exercises she performed every day to keep her body limber. She was in the middle of her routine when the door silently opened and the sergeant peeked inside.

“You’re awake,” Terri smiled, pushing the door fully open so she could enter the hut. “Hope you slept well. Those cots aren’t exactly known for being too comfortable.”

“Like a baby,” Tarp lied, not seeing any reason to complain about the uncomfortable mattress. She tried to continue her exercises but with a second person now inside there wasn’t enough room and she gave up.

“I’m sorry,” Terri quickly stepped back towards the open door, “I can wait outside.”

“No,’ Tarp shook her head, smiling at the other woman. “Please stay. Besides, it’s more your hut than mine.”

“Nonsense,” Terri left the door open and crossed the room to her cot. “We both call it home now. So if you ever need some privacy, just say so and I’ll leave for a while.”

“If you agree to do the same,” Tarp stepped to the open doorway, leaning against the rough frame, “it’s a deal. How long was I asleep?”

“About sixteen hours. Go ahead and close it,” Terri said, misunderstanding the other woman’s reason for moving to the opening. “I got in the habit of leaving it open during the day. This place can seem pretty depressing as dark as it gets in here.”

“Oh, no,” Tarp looked over her shoulder at the sergeant. “I don’t mind it being open. It’s just that I still haven’t gotten used to the longer days here on Organi. Back home they were only about a half as long. If I’d slept that long there, it would be tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Terri scooted back on her cot so she could lean against the hut’s wall, “I understand that there are many differences between Organi and your home planet.”

“Many,” Tarp agreed, continuing to stare outside. Far to the east above the distant mountains, she could see the double moons of Organi rising in the darkening sky. “For starters, Organi has two moons, we only had one on Retha.” Tarp’s stomach growled loudly as she spoke. “Sorry,” she smirked, turning to face the sergeant, “guess it’s been a while since I ate. When is the next meal served here?”

Quickly pushing up from the cot, Terri was abashed that she hadn’t considered the captain would be hungry when she awoke. “I’m so sorry,” she said solemnly, “I should have had something prepared for you. We can go to the food hut, the cooks always have something available,” she explained as she hurried to the door to leave the hut.

“Hey,” Tarp reached out to stop the Sergeant as she tried to hustle past. “It’s okay, really. I don’t expect you to anticipate my needs just because I’m the camp commander.”

“No,” Terri smiled sadly at the captain, “not because you are the camp commander. But because you arrived in camp after a long journey and it would be expected you would have needs to be seen to. My sincerest apologies,” Terri dropped her head, bowing to the captain to acknowledge her thoughtlessness.

“No apology is necessary,” Tarp was somewhat troubled by the Sergeant’s behavior. “Just lead me to the food hut. Suddenly I’m extremely famished and I’m afraid I’ll start eating the blanket on my cot if I don’t find food soon,” the captain laughed as her stomach growled even louder.

“Follow me,” Terri rushed out of the hut.

Still confused by the Islanders unusual demeanor, the captain did as she was instructed and followed the sergeant outside.

As the women walked across the open ground in the center of the camp, Tarp studied the layout of the compound. From what she could see in the growing darkness, the prisoners were contained in a rectangular area surrounded by the security barrier. The center of the camp was relatively open with two distinct groupings of huts occupying either end. Tarp noticed that the huts nearest to the one she shared with the sergeant were more evenly spaced and of uniform size while the huts at the far end of the camp were haphazardly spaced and varied greatly in size and shape.

Two much larger huts sat in the middle of the camp and Terri was leading her to one of those buildings, which Tarp assumed to be the food hut. She wondered the purpose of the other large hut and was about to ask when the sergeant provided the answer.

“Watch your step,” Terri said as she carefully stepped over a small ditch with a trickle of water running along its bed. “That’s the food hut,” she indicated the large structure they were approaching. “And that’s the shower hut. An automatic timer turns on the pump once a week. We have six hours for everyone to get showered, so there’s no time for more than a quick scrub and rinse. The food and shower huts are open to both Mainlanders and Islanders.”

“Why the separation, Sergeant?” Tarp asked again, being careful to use the woman’s title since there were several other prisoners nearby.

Terri shrugged as she climbed the steps leading up to landing in front of the door of the food hut. “I believe your soldiers feel more comfortable that way, Captain.”

Tarp followed the sergeant up the steps, “do you agree with the arrangement?”

“It was not my place to question the arrangement. I arrived after it had been put into place.” Terri pushed open the hut’s door and entered the surprisingly large room.

The interior of the hut was open with long rows of tables and benches occupying most of it. A counter stretching the length of the room separated the eating area from the kitchen and several prisoners were working their way along the counter selecting from a variety of food choices for their meals. Terri led Tarp to the end of the line and the women wasted no time filling their trays.

“We can eat here or take it back to the hut,” Terri offered as they reached the end of the counter.

“Perhaps back at the hut, Sergeant” Tarp said, looking about the room and seeing that only a few of the tables were unoccupied. “I’d like to talk.”

“Alright,” Terri nodded in understanding as she walked across the room to the door. Her path took the women past the table where Lt. Hovart was eating.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting that briefing now,” Hovart grumbled as Tarp approached.

The captain paused to respond, “soon, Lieutenant. But first I’d like to eat. And since it’s so late in the day, perhaps we can plan on you giving me a briefing first thing in the morning. That is if you don’t have any other plans.”

“Whatever,” Hovart didn’t bother to look up from his meal. “Not like I have much to do around this place now that you took command.”

“Very well.” Not having the energy or inclination to deal with the lieutenant’s insubordination right then, Tarp continued for the door.

“It must be strange,” Captain Midd said as she set her tray on the table in their hut. “Being here where there is so little water or vegetation.” She hadn’t failed to notice the lack of any plant life within the prison camp or on the valley floor surrounding the camp.

“I will admit it has taken some getting used to,” Terri set her own tray on the table before carefully sitting on one of the chairs. “We are used to lots of trees and flowers on the Islands. But it’s the sea that I miss the most.”

“I’ve heard that the Islands are very beautiful,” Tarp gingerly settled in the other chair. “I’m sorry to say that I had not had the opportunity to visit them before the war started. It’s sad that the Alliance has now chosen to harvest Organi.”

“Why do you think they have come here now?” Terri asked quietly as she began to eat.

“What do you mean?”

“By Galaxy Law, the Alliance must be asked onto any populated planet. For generations, the Alliance has sought permission to harvest Organi. But their requests have always been denied.”

“You think a Rethan asked them here?” Tarp was startled by the sergeant’s question that sounded distinctly like an accusation against the Mainlanders.

“What do you feel?” Terri looked at the captain, gentle brown eyes revealing no accusations, only a genuine interest in the captain’s answer.

Perplexed with how the question was phrased, Tarp took the time to consider her feelings before answering.

“Regretfully, I feel,“ Tarp acknowledged, “you may be right. When Retha became uninhabitable and we were forced to look for a new homeland, it was decided that those who chose to travel to Organi would make a fresh start without the traditions and practices that had resulted in our own planet being destroyed. On Organi we would no longer value wealth and power, we would no longer be controlled by a governor elected by only the most wealthy amongst us. Instead we would live simply, using only what we needed to survive. On Organi, we would all be equal with every member of the community having a vote in all decisions. When we came here, we would work for the good of all. Our days would be spent growing our own food, making our own clothes and shelters, and caring for our elders and younglings.”

“And what were you to do?”

“I flew shuttles on Retha. Since that skill would not be required here, I volunteered to help maintain the planting and growing machinery. And I would help in the fields when needed.”

“Did you enjoy this change?”

“Very much,” Midd said with a hint of despair in her voice. “I finally felt like I was doing something good with my life.”

“But not everyone felt as you.” It was spoken as a fact not a question.

“No. At first, everyone seemed willing to go along with the plan. But as the days passed, some began to complain about the work. They were too used to having things done for them on Retha and they wanted to revert to the old ways. Luckily, they were a small minority and their demands to change our new customs were voted down.”

“Yet they remained unhappy.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Terri,” Tarp pushed her tray away, suddenly wasn’t as hungry as she had been just moments before. “It’s very possible that one or more of them contacted the Alliance.”

“What have you done to be sorry for?”

“If we hadn’t come to Organi, your home would not be threatened like it is. The Islanders must hate us.”

“We do not,” Terri gently returned the tray to its proper position in front of the captain.

“How can you say that? I’d hate us, if I were you.”

Terri smiled, “to hate another is to hate yourself. To be at peace, you must trust in yourself and those around you.”

“But we have ruined everything for you. You no longer have any control over the land your people have called home for generations.”

“We cannot control what does not belong to us,” Terri told the distressed woman.

“I don’t understand. You don’t own the islands?”

“The islands were a gift to us from Mo-tah. We live on them but we do not own them.”

“Yet you fight for them.”

“We fight for Mo-tah,” Terri explained.

“Mo-tah?”

“Mo-tah provides the ground we live on, the water we drink, and the air we breathe. She gives us fire to warm us when we are cold and cool breezes to cool us when we are warm. She allows us to eat the fruit of her plants and the fish in her sea. She is our Mother.”

Tarp gazed at the sergeant for several minutes before softly replying. “On Retha we had books that told of a time long ago when the people worshipped Gaia. They called her Mother Earth and honored her for giving them the very things you say Mo-tah gives to you.”

A comfortable silence fell in the small hut as both women contemplated the similarities of the two traditions and what, if any, importance could be deduced from the coincidence.

Deciding a change of topic was in order, Terri returned to the beginning of their conversation. “I didn’t know what to expect of the Mainland when I was told I would be coming here to defend Mo-tah. But I never expected it to be so different from the Islands.”

“You’ve never been on the Mainland before?” Tarp was surprised by the revelation. She had just assumed that the Islanders would be familiar with the entire planet they inhabited.

“No,” Terri shook her head. “The Mainland holds dangers we are not used to on the Islands. It is not safe for us.”

“Like the tigers?” Many times, Tarp had listened to the hunters complain of the large cats that roamed the Mainland and made it dangerous to hunt the game animals for the Rethan settlements. She hoped never to have a face-to-face encounter with one of the ferocious animals.

“Yes, the tigers are best to be avoided. But it is also the vastness of the Mainland that we do not understand. Our Islands are small and most can be walked across in a single day. We are familiar with them. The Mainland stretches from the top of Organi to the bottom and is so wide that even a tasar cannot cross it in a day. Such a distance is unknown to us.”

“But in all the time your people have lived on Organi, you never wanted to explore the Mainland?” Rising from the uncomfortable chair, Tarp picked up the plate from in front of her and moved to sit on her cot. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Terri followed the captain’s lead. “I rarely use the chairs. I don’t find them very sturdy.”

“I can see why,” Tarp glanced over at the unsteady pieces of furniture. “Please continue.”

“Our history talkers tell stories of Islanders setting off to explore the Mainland. Sadly none of them returned home. Over the years, our Advisors recommended that the expeditions be stopped.”

“Advisors?”

“Yes, they guide my people.”

“I’m sorry,” Tarp frowned, a confused look on her face. “Are they like your leaders?”

“We have no leaders,” Terri explained. “Advisor is an honored position passed from mother to daughter. We attempt to live our lives in harmony with what Mo-tah provides us. When there is a dispute or if someone seeks guidance, an Advisor is consulted.”

“She tells you what to do,” Tarp suggested.

“No,” Terri shook her head. “An advisor listens and then speaks what she knows to be true.”

“How does she know what is true?”

“Advisors have the wisdom of all who have come before.”

“What happens if someone doesn’t agree with what the Advisor says?”

“I don’t know,” Terri smiled serenely. “It has never happened.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Thoughtfully, Tarp chewed the last bite of food, digesting both the food and what she had just learned of the Islander culture. “I wish we could be more like that,” she sighed.

“You don’t have those who guide you?” Terri asked.

“No, not in the way you mean. On Retha, the elected governor named judges to hear disputes and decide who was right.”

“This governor was the one with the most wisdom?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Tarp laughed. “Usually the one with the most money. That’s why we decided to change how we did things here.”

A soft tapping on the hut’s door interrupted the women.

Terri pushed herself up from the cot. “It is time for my last walk of the day. I shall be careful not to wake you when I return,” she said as she gathered their dirty dishes. “I will return these on the way.”

“Thank you. Please don’t worry about waking me, I probably won’t be asleep anyway.”

“We’ll see,” Terri smiled, her eyes twinkling as if she knew the opposite to be true.

Tarp watched Terri exit the hut. It is only then that she noticed several Islanders waiting outside in the moonlight. They all saluted the sergeant before greeting her warmly.

“May I take those?” one of the soldiers reached for the trays Terri carried.

“Thank you, Meeka,” Terri smiled, “we will walk slow so you may join us.”

“Thank you, Advisor,” the soldier hurried off toward the food hut to return the dirty dishes.

“Advisor?” Tarp whispered. “Terri is one of their honored ones?” As she watched the sergeant lead the others away from the hut, she wondered what other surprises her unusual hut mate had yet to reveal.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Lieutenant,” Tarp addressed her obviously unhappy subordinate. Since finishing their morning meal, she and Terri had been sitting in their hut with the lieutenant as the soldier gave his new commander a rundown on the operation of the prisoner-of-war camp.

“What’s that?”

“Why have you not attempted any escapes from here? Do you know how much it would mean to the Confederacy chances if these soldiers were to return to the battle?”

“Are you crazy?” Hovart leapt to his feet, staring at the captain. “You have eyes. You’ve seen that the camp is surrounding by a vaporizer fence. You can’t dig under it. You can’t jump over it. And you sure as hell can’t go through it. Any escape attempt would end before it ever got started. Besides with the way the war is going, there’s no reason for us to even try. What with the way the Alliance is shooting down our tasars and destroying our bases, they’d be nothing for us to fight with. So what difference could we make even if we got out?”

“That’s just it,” Tarp told the discouraged soldier. “The war is not going bad for the Confederacy, that’s just what the guards want you to think. In fact, we have more tasars than pilots and gunners. And there are more arriving every week. It’s the Alliance that the war is going bad for. It’s running short of supplies and mercenaries after stretching itself thin trying to protect all the planets being harvested. Organi is not alone any more in fighting the Alliance. Other planets, following our example, have begun to resist the Alliance. Believe me, Lieutenant, the soldiers in this camp would make a big difference.”

“Come on,” Hovart protested. “You heard the guard say they shot down thirty tasars when they brought you in.”

“That was just talk,” the captain countered. “I left with a squad of eight tasars. About half of them sustained some damage and had to return to base camp before the mission was completed but mine was the only tasar shot down.”

The lieutenant groaned in acceptance of the truth of the captain’s statement and dropped back down into the chair. “Don’t make much difference anyway. We can’t get through the fence. I’ve tried.”

“But,” Tarp started to argue.

“No, Captain,” Hovart immediately interrupted, “there is no way to get through that fence alive. And I’m not about to order soldiers to their deaths just to prove it to you.” He slammed his fist on the table to emphasize his position.

“Lieutenant,” the captain growled, “you’re out of line.”

“Excuse me.” Terri had been sitting quietly on her cot while the captain and lieutenant talked but seeing that both were getting angry and their discussion was about to escalate into a heated argument, she decided to speak. Calmly she offered, “both of you have valid points. Perhaps we should take some time to reflect on what we’ve learned today before we continue this discussion.”

Lieutenant Hovart glared at the Islander. He had not wanted the woman to be a part of the briefing to begin with and now he bristled at her composed attempt at telling them what to do. “Look,” he snarled, “you may be some kind of mystical, mumbo-jumbo priestess with the Islanders but don’t try and use that tranquil tone on me.”

Tarp turned to see how Terri would respond to the caustic outburst. She wasn’t too surprised to see the sergeant sitting calmly on her cot, smiling at Hovart. She smirked, aware the sergeant’s affable demeanor was driving her second-in-command nuts.

“I think the Sergeant is right, Lieutenant,” Tarp said before the lieutenant could continue his attack. “I would like some time to think about what you’ve told me. Perhaps we should call it a day.”

“Fine with me,” Hovart stood abruptly, knocking over the chair he had been occupying. “You know where to find me. Just do me a favor,” he snapped striding to the hut’s door without bothering to right the overturned chair. “Leave her outside next time. Way the Islanders think she knows everything drives me crazy. And how she just sits there smiling, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Don’t know how you expect to win a war with that,” he jabbed a finger in Terri’s direction, “commanding half the troops.”

“That’s enough,” Tarp ordered the soldier. “You will show the Sergeant the respect her position deserves. And you can keep your bigoted opinions to yourself in the future, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” Hovart seethed at the rebuke.

“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.” With a sloppy salute, the soldier turned on his heel, yanking the door open with enough force it slammed against the wall. “What a pair,” Hovart muttered as he stomped down the hut’s steps, the door swinging wildly behind him. “A midget and a soothsayer. No wonder we’re losing this war.”

Tarp grabbed the door in mid-swing, latching it before turning to face Terri. “Sorry,” she shrugged, mortified by the lieutenant’s outburst.

Terri grinned, “it is not the first time I have heard the Lieutenant’s name for me. I’m just grateful it isn’t something worse.”

“How do you remain so calm?” Tarp began to pace about the small hut, attempting to burn off the negative energy built up over the last few minutes. “I wanted to kick him right out the door. But you just sat there smiling.”

“Would it have helped the situation to do as you wanted?”

“Of course not,” Tarp continued her pacing.

“Then why do it.”

“It would have made me feel better,” the captain grumbled.

“Would it?”

Tarp stopped her pacing to stare at the sergeant who was doing her best to suppress a laugh. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Now you know why I walk around the camp so often,” Terri laughed at the woman’s attempts to pace about the tiny room. With having to avoid the cots, table, and upturned chair, the captain was barely able to take more than one step in any given direction.

Tarp stood in the middle of the hut, her body twisting at the waist as she surveyed the room’s tight proportions, “guess I do.” Seeing the humor in her predicament, she began to laugh with Terri. “Going on one of your walks any time soon?” she giggled, dropping onto her cot all the pent-up anger suddenly gone.

“Definitely,” Terri chuckled.

“Think I could join you?”

“You are always welcome.”

“Thanks,” Tarp lay back on the cot, staring up at the ceiling. “So what now? If we can’t escape, do we just wait here until the war is over?”

Ignoring the question for the moment, Terri asked, “you said that the Confederacy has more tasars than pilots. How is that possible?”

“Easy,” Tarp sat up so she could face Terri as she responded. “The Confederacy has friends in the galaxy. And, like I said, there are other planets joining the fight against the Alliance. Tasars are being made in a secret location and a transport lands on Organi weekly with a new shipment.”

“A full transport of tasars,” Terri whistled softly. “That must be some manufacturing plant. But something that big would be hard to hide from the Alliance, where is it?”

For some reason, Tarp didn’t hesitate in answering the sergeant’s questions even though few people, for security reasons, knew the information she was about to divulge.

“On the planet Quaza, at the far side of the galaxy. It was harvested by the Alliance a few generations ago and is devoid of life. The tasars are being made in a deep underground chamber, which has been surrounded by a sponge shield. The shield is lifted only for the empty transports to arrive and loaded ones to leave. It is literally invisible to the Alliance probing vessels.”

Probing vessels were specially designed robot controlled ships that roamed the galaxy probing planets and other stellar bodies for any resources that might be profitable for the Alliance to harvest. After the war on Organi started, their probing sensors had been reconfigured to also search for any military facility or weapons stockpile. Sponge shields absorbed the probing signals and returned false negative responses to the probing vessels’ sensors.

“Where are these tasars stored once they arrive on Organi?”

“That’s the hard part,” Tarp shook her head. “Since there aren’t enough pilots or gunners, we can’t move them once they’re unloaded. The probes find many of them and they are destroyed before they have ever been flown. I just wish it was possible to get all these soldiers back to their bases and the tasars. It would really make a difference for the Confederacy. Not to mention the land and water tanks that are sitting idle waiting for trained crews. It could mean a quick end to this war,” she said dejectedly, dropping back onto her cot. “If we could get out of this damn prison camp.”

“Ah,” Terri leaned back against the wall, a pleased look on her face. “Lieutenant Hovart may know many things about this camp but there is one thing he doesn’t know.”

“What’s that?” Tarp raised her head just high enough off the mattress to look at the smug Islander.

“Cruiser coming,” someone shouted outside the hut.

“Come on,” Terri pushed herself up from her cot, reaching out a hand to the captain. “I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”

Taking the offered hand, Tarp allowed herself to be pulled upright to face the sergeant. It was the closest the women had been to one another and the energy flowing between them was unmistakable.

Tarp felt a rush of heat between her legs and started to speak but stopped when she realized she didn’t know what she wanted to say.

Terri lifted the hand she continued to hold so she could study it. Slowly her eyes lifted to gaze into Tarp’s. “You are an interesting woman, Captain,” she sighed. “There is much about you that I would like to learn.”

“How many prisoners this time?” a soldier’s shout interrupted the moment.

“Come,” Terri continued to grasp the captain’s hand as she led her outside. “We don’t have much time.” Instead of taking Tarp to where the other prisoners were gathering around the camp’s gate, she led her around the back of their hut and to the stretch of the vaporizer fence behind the food hut. Their movements were hidden from the approaching cruiser and other prisoners by the large building.

“Hovart is right, this fence can’t be breached,” Terri told Tarp as she knelt to pick up a small stone. “Except...” she peered around the corner of the food hut to observe the actions of the guards at the gate. Suddenly she turned back around tossing the pebble at the fence. “When they bring in new prisoners and the power is shut off.”

Tarp watched the stone pass unharmed through the vaporizing field to bounce a few times on the bare ground outside the fence before coming to rest.

“But if you know this,” Tarp looked at Terri. “Why haven’t you tried to escape?”

“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” Terri sneaked another peek towards the front of the camp where a couple of new prisoners were being shoved through the gate. “Let’s go back to the hut.”

“Tell me why Hovart didn’t know about this, Terri,” the captain demanded as they start back to their hut.

“The guards tell us that the fence is always on, only the field around the gate is deactivated when they bring prisoners. They’ve even thrown things at it to prove it. But never when the gate was open. I thought about that and one day I did as I did today. The stone passed through.”

“Then why have you not escaped?”

“The guards are never the same. The number of prisoners they bring are never the same.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The timing must be perfect. It is impossible to know how much time before the field is reactivated,” Terri explained as she climbed the steps back into their hut. Once they were back inside and the door securely closed behind them, she continued, “for an escape to work, you must be ready to leave as soon as the alarm is sounded that a cruiser is coming. You would have to go through the fence the instant the guard deactivates it. If you miss-time your attempt.”

“Poof.”

“Yeah, poof.”

“Is the barrier deactivated at any other time?”

“No.”

“How are supplies brought into camp?” Tarp asked, knowing that food and other essentials must be delivered to the prisoners.

“A transport comes two or three time each moon cycle. But it hovers over the camp and supplies are dropped from it. The barrier is not deactivated.”

“So the only time the fence is deactivated is when prisoners are brought into the camp.”

“Yes.”

“Knowing this, why have you never tried to escape?”

“One cannot escape alone. It would take another to watch the guard and say when the field is deactivated. If they were wrong,” Terri paused. “I could never ask that of another.”

Tarp easily understood the sergeant’s reluctance to ask someone to carry the consequences of that responsibility if the timing turned out to be wrong. She hesitated for a moment to consider what other options there might be. “Would you be willing to do that for me?”

“You would trust me with your life?” Terri gazed into Tarp’s eyes.

Without any hesitation, Tarp replied, “yes.”

“Why would you risk what most would not?”

“Because I came to Organi to get away from the greed and destruction the Alliance has wreaked on most of the galaxy. I wanted a new life. A life lived within the natural surroundings without the need to control them. And if we can stop the Alliance here on Organi, I think there’s still a chance to have that. I have to try. Otherwise,” Tarp’s voice dropped to almost a whisper as she added, “I could never live with myself for letting this happen to Organi.”

Terri saw the pain written on the other woman’s features and, in her heart, she shared the captain’s anguish over the possible future of her home planet. “Then I will help.”

The women remained quiet for several minutes, well aware of what they had just agreed to risk. Neither wanted to rush past the moment without giving the other a chance to change their mind.

“What happens if an escape is successful? Will the guards know the camp is short a prisoner?” Tarp finally broke the silence.

“They never count us,” Terri said. “They just assume that any missing prisoners must have been vaporized by the barrier.”

“Works for me,” Tarp grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “I say we take the chance and be ready the next time a cruiser comes. That means, we have some planning to do,” she stood to pace around the room. “I’ll need to know the best place to go through the fence, so I the guards can’t see me. I’ll need to make some kind of pack to carry food. And try to find something I can use as a weapon. And,”

“You cannot do this alone, Tarp,” the sergeant interrupted her planning. “You must tell Lieutenant Hovart.”

“I can’t depend on Hovart to know about this,” Tarp stopped pacing to look at Terri. “You know what he thinks about me. I can’t chance him telling the whole camp about my crazy plan. You’ll just have to tell him afterward that I tried to make it through the fence and failed. Believe me, you won’t have any trouble convincing him of it.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. If you are to do this, Hovart must know. He may not be the most tactful man...”

Tarp snorted at the comment.

“But,” Terri continued as if she hadn’t heard the Tarp’s retort, “he is a good soldier and will need to resume his position of commander with you gone. It would be better if he knew of your plans and could help.”

“He’ll be glad to be rid of me,” Tarp defiantly leaned against the wall beside her cot. “Taking back command won’t cause him any problems.”

“Do not judge the lieutenant too harshly,” Terri sighed as she sat on her cot. “Hovart is a man that needs to feel he is doing some good. When he commanded the camp he could feel that. When you arrived, he lost his purpose.”

“Hmm,” Tarp murmured, uneasily. “Guess I never looked at it that way. So what are you suggesting?”

“Hovart should know what is happening. If you make it through the fence, you will need someone to make sure the guards’ attention does not stray from the gate while you move away from the camp.”

“You could do that.”

“No. I do not go to the gate when prisoners arrive.”

“You were there yesterday when I arrived.”

“Yes,” Terri smiled. “So I was.”

“Are you sure about this, Captain?” Lieutenant Hovart was sitting on one of the chairs in his hut as he talked with his commanding officer.

“Yes.”

“But if you’re wrong.” Hovart left the sentence unfinished, it wasn’t really necessary to complete it.

“I don’t think I am,” Captain Midd said quietly from where she sat on the hut’s other chair. “The Sergeant has shown that there is a flaw in the camp’s security and we need to take advantage of that.”

“But you could be killed,” the lieutenant had seen what the vaporizer field could do and as much as he didn’t care for the woman sitting across the table from him, he sure didn’t wish that on anyone.

“I understand that,” Midd sighed, she didn’t want to think about that possibility. “But knowing what these soldiers returning to the battle could mean to the Confederacy makes taking the chance necessary.”

“Alright,” Hovart wasn’t as convinced as the captain but she was still in command. “What do you want me to do?”

“Sergeant Arhina has agreed to be my lookout, so that’s covered. I’ll need you to make sure the guards are kept busy at the gate. And that no prisoners see what I’m doing and do anything to alert the guards.”

“Let’s say you make it through the fence,” Hovart rubbed the back of his neck, “then what? The valley is a flat lot of nothing out there. How do you plan to get away from the camp without being seen?”

“The gully,” Terri spoke for the first time from where she sat on the lieutenant’s cot listening to the conversation.

“That gully isn’t very deep,” Hovart visualized the small ravine where a creek flowed into an underground holding tank used for storing the water used in the shower hut. It was the only cleft on the otherwise flat valley floor. “You’d have to crawl along the creek bed to keep out of sight and I’m not sure that will even work.”

“No,” Terri stood and walked to the open doorway of the hut to look outside. “She’ll have to hide in it until nightfall. She can crawl to the bend and then wait.”

“That means crawling almost half a click,” Hovart calculated. “That’ll take half hour or more. If she was to be seen...”

“That’s where you come in, Lieutenant,” Tarp was tired of being talked about as if she wasn’t in the room. “Your job will be to make sure I’m not seen, by anyone.”

“Okay, so you hide in the ditch until nightfall. Then what?”

“Then I’ll make my way to the trees that still cover the foothills. From there, I’ll head up into the mountains. If I can get to that pass in the west and if I have my directions straight, there should be a small base on the other side.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Captain. And the mountains are full of Alliance patrols, not to mention tigers. How do you plan to get past them? You won’t have any weapons?”

“I’ll just have to find a way,” Midd started to lean back on the chair’s rear legs then thought better of it since the lieutenant’s hut was as haphazardly furnished as her own.

“Damn, Captain,” Hovart muttered. “You’re talking about going through a fence that can turn you into nothing in the blink of an eye. Hiding out in a shallow ditch for hours to avoid being seen by any passing cruisers; crossing the valley and avoiding the Alliance patrols and any tigers out looking for an easy meal. And then finding a pass you hope is where you think it is. Don’t you think that’s a bit much, even for you?”

“I have to try.” The captain knew the man had some valid concerns but it would be worth the danger if she were to be successful. “The Confederacy troops are out there facing the Alliance with less than the best we have to fight with. Stop thinking about how much you don’t believe I’m capable of making it and start thinking about what it would mean if I do.”

“It’s your skin, Captain,” Hovart shrugged. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. If you make it, you’ll be a hero. If you don’t, guess there isn’t much anyone can say to me about it. They’ll just figure you took on too much again, like you always do.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” Tarp scowled.

“Whatever,” the lieutenant grunted. “When do you plan to go through with this?”

“The next time a cruiser comes with prisoners and they have to deactivate the barrier. We’ll need to be ready to move the instant the cruiser is spotted.”

“Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. Try to give you as much warning as possible.” Hovart stood and held out his hand, “don’t think you have much chance, Captain. But good luck.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Tarp stood and took the offered hand into her own. “I expect you will be available to resume command of the camp once I’ve gone,” she smiled as the man grinned happily.

“I’ll do my best, Captain.”

Tarp walked to the doorway and started out of the hut, Terri let her pass before following.

“Islander,” Hovart snapped to stop Terri from leaving.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“You make damn sure your timing is right when you give the signal. If the Captain fries, so will you,” he warned.

“I have no intention of letting Captain Midd fry, as you put it,” Terri shuddered at the thought of the woman being caught in the vaporizing field. “I assure you, Lieutenant,” she said as she turned to leave the hut, “my timing will be perfect.”

“Damn straight, better be,” Hovart muttered. As he watched the women walk away, his mind went back to the day he had seen the true power of the vaporizer fence. It was the same day he had discovered the importance of the sergeant to the Islanders.

The prisoner being removed from the cruiser was not making it easy on the guards as he fought against their efforts. Once outside the restrictive confides of the cruiser, he surveyed the prison-of-war camp and began laughing.

“You call that a security fence,” the pri