The room was dark and noisy. Twenty men and women, perhaps more, chatted and laughed and drank, paying little attention to the two who had just walked in.
Roff had taken her down crowded streets and empty alleys, until they’d reached a seemingly abandoned building. They’d gone through the unhinged door and down a flight of stairs that stopped at a wall. He had knocked on the surface in a peculiar pattern and, after a few seconds, the wall had blurred and faded. On the other side was a tunnel that slanted downward. On and on it went, deeper and deeper, until they reached a pit with a circular staircase that spiraled along its sides. It had taken them five minutes to reach the bottom. Then they’d gone through a metal door and more tunnels.
All along the way, Mrill had noticed eyes peering at them from small holes in the walls. Watchers. It was a good setup. They’d get plenty of warning if the Imperials ever came for a raid.
It wasn’t difficult to guess all this was protection against the Imperials. This was the rim. These people were outlaws—mercenaries, at best; rebels, at worst.
Still, she had followed.
The last tunnel had ended at another metal door. Going through that one had led them here, in this den of madness, where people yelled and brawled and joked in a merry fray of contentment and drunken stupor.
She wondered what good all those safeguards would do them if they were in such a sorry state they could not evade even the slowest soldiers in the Imperium.
Roff must have sensed her disapproval.
“They’re not always like this,” he muttered. “And there are others, beyond, who are preparing.”
“Preparing for what?” she asked.
“To kick the Impies off Pluvios, that’s what. They’re crawling all over the place, curse them!”
“Why are they here if the war is on Qevahr?”
He turned to her, waving his hands in the air. “Thank you! That’s what I’ve been asking for months. But no one seems to have a decent answer. Assuming they even care. Sure, there are many rebels here, but it’s not like there aren’t other worlds out there with their fair share of rebels. There is little love for the government among the people. You can find resistance even in the heart of the Imperium, from what I’ve heard.”
She said nothing, looking around as they walked through the crowd.
After two more doors, they arrived in a quieter room where people had gathered in small groups. They all chatted in low voices, so as not to bother the neighbors.
Roff went toward one of the groups.
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“Hey guys!”
A dark-haired man looked up and smiled.
“Been a while since we’ve seen you. What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”
Roff wrinkled his nose. “Thought I’d try a taste of Naladen. Didn’t quite agree with my stomach.”
The others laughed.
Aside from the man who had spoken, there were three others. A skinny blonde woman with a missing tooth, a burly man with a scowl, and a scrawny girl who couldn’t have been more than twelve.
“Who’s your friend?” asked the blonde.
Four pairs of eyes turned to look at her.
“This is Mrill,” said Roff. “She wants to join.”
“I never said that,” said Mrill.
The glances all turned to Roff.
He grimaced. “Give her time, I’m sure she’ll like it and want to stay.”
“This is not Iriaki,” chided the first man. “You can’t just—”
“Give her a chance, Kesh! She’s special.”
The man quirked a brow. “Special? How so?”
Roff turned toward Mrill. “Want to show them what you can do?”
Mrill wasn’t sure she did. She was partly amused, and partly annoyed. Was she a dog to be paraded in front of strangers? Was this a test? And if it was, why should she care? She had asked for nothing. Roff had said these were friends, but she had not known they would be rebels.
To be fair, she hadn’t known what to expect at all. She had only known these people were outlaws. Mrill was not, though. She had killed, yes, but always legally. Why would she associate herself with them?
Then she remembered.
Ever since she had come here, into these tunnels, that messy and noisy room, and now here... none of these men and women had looked at her like she was some sort of monster. Not a single one of them. Everyone she had crossed had nodded at them—herself included—as if there was nothing unusual, as if she was one of them.
As always, her face remained expressionless.
She looked at the four sitting at the booth.
Even now, they observed her with curiosity. Nothing less, nothing more.
She peered into them.
Her eyes turned to the first man.
“Kesh. You once were a soldier. You believed in the Imperium. In its might. In its benevolence. Until you saw the truth. You saw how your fellow soldiers treated the people, as if they were cattle—or enemy troops. When you reported the issues and the government did nothing, you grew discontent. Bitter. You deserted.”
Before the stunned man could react, she turned to the skinny blonde.
“Nuri. You worked as a seamstress in the depths of Navinar. You married a wealthy man that pulled you out of your misery. When his superiors discovered he had married below his station—out of love—he was demoted and mocked. The government did nothing. Least of all when he fell ill and died from lack of medicine.”
She looked at the burly man whose scowl had deepened.
“Praeg. You are a brave soul in the body of a brute. You were engineered to be a killer, but you refused your fate. You were designed by monsters who thought you would be the monster they could not be. You broke your chains and became a better man when the government did nothing to help you.”
Finally, her eyes went to the girl.
“Little Ivi. The brightest in her class. Orphaned when your parents were both killed in an explosion caused by Imperial soldiers when they tried to stop a peaceful march. Your parents were not even in the march. They were hard-working people who suffered the consequences of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The government did nothing for you. But a kind man did. He took you in when he found you crying in the rubble.”
She glanced at the burly man next to the girl, who instinctively placed a protective arm around her.
When Mrill stopped talking, she realized the entire room had gone quiet. Everyone was staring at her. Roff had a big grin on his face.
“See? What did I tell you? Special!”
Someone clapped behind them.
Mrill turned.
A tall brown-haired man stood there, smiling.
“That is quite impressive,” he said. “I’d love it if you agreed to join this little group I’m putting together...”
Roff gaped. “Peter! You’re alive!”