*
Alana and Vandoraa had made it to their destination, just as Trell had speculated. Their trip had been less eventful than their counterparts’, since Vandoraa could read just about everything and inform Alana exactly where they needed to go. They were also a little less sneaky—Alana had gotten in the habit of shooting any Drevi with a powerful natural tranquilizer from Kolea as soon as she could see them. They dropped where they’d stood.
As they entered the broadcast room they saw three Drevi, one preparing to speak through a microphone, one supervising the sound equipment, and the third monitoring the video being transmitted on a large computer screen.
Alana almost dropped to her knees and thanked the stars themselves. They hadn’t begun their morning broadcast yet. Unflinchingly, she pulled her weapon and pointed it towards the two Drevi who were the closest together, while Vandoraa tilted his hesitantly towards the third.
“We’re not going to harm you unless you fight us.” Vandoraa began speaking and Alana let him do the talking. “We just need to use your equipment. Kindly step aside.”
Alana took care of the business of binding the Drevi employees’ hands and feet and stuffing them into one of the soundproof rooms used for recording audio shows. Not seeing a lock on the door, she made one herself, shooting the mechanism until it froze in place. She then turned her attention back to Vandoraa, who was already at the computers.
“Communications was not my specialty,” Vandoraa mumbled as he fiddled with the controls. “I mean, I can read it, but most of it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, you’d better hurry up and make sense out of it,” Alana said from the door where she’d posted herself in front of the small window. “Trell and Bea aren’t going to keep the security preoccupied forever.”
“Okay, I need the drive,” Vandoraa said, holding out a hand.
Cautiously Alana inched over and gave it to him, never once taking her eyes off the door. They didn’t have the original drive—the files they wanted to share had been copied by Trell. The original was in a safe place aboard the December. It gave Alana peace of mind that if they failed, the evidence was still out there somewhere, to be recovered and released someday.
“I’m going to have to narrate,” Vandoraa said, his voice shaking a little. “I don’t particularly like this sort of thing.”
Alana laughed, in spite of everything. “You and me both.”
Vandoraa took a deep breath and began speaking into the microphone, narrating and explaining the images that he was feeding into the broadcast stream. The more disturbing the evidence the more his voice choked up, but he kept at it all the same. Alana found herself, in spite of everything, admiring his mental strength and conviction.
He got about two minutes into what he wanted to say when Alana let out a warning cry and jumped back just as the door blew clean off its hinges. Four huge Drevi military officers, one male and three female, burst into the room, weapons ready to fire. Alana, realizing she was hopelessly outgunned, placed her gun on the floor and put her hands in the air.
“You,” one said, shoving his gun in Vandoraa’s direction. “Back away from the computer.” Vandoraa reluctantly stepped away, holding his hands up by his shoulders. He hadn’t gotten through enough. He knew it.
“Come with us,” one of the women said coldly.
Alana had begun formulating various escape plans in her mind when a furious new voice suddenly yelled, “Put your weapons away!”
“Tavron,” one of the soldiers gasped and lowered her weapon immediately at the order from such a high-ranking individual.
The other three were not so eager. “What brings you here?” one of them asked, his gun still pointed at Alana’s head.
“You need to listen to what these people have to say.” Tavron stepped into the room, puffing himself up to look taller, larger, and more imposing than he was. He didn’t appear to be carrying a weapon, but Vandoraa would have bet anything his older brother had something concealed underneath his diplomat’s robes.
“She’s a Kolean and he’s a traitor. No Drevi will believe a word they say.”
“Would you believe a word I say?” Tavron asked calmly.
That got them to shut up. Finally, one of them said, apologetically, “Of course we would.”
“Then listen closely,” Tavron said as he stepped over to the microphone. All those years of being a diplomat and politician undoubtedly had given Tavron phenomenal public speaking skills. At that moment, he was preparing to use them to their fullest extent. “The Queen’s office, as well as the Queen herself, has been committing atrocities which are not only illegal under our law, but morally reprehensible. If you won’t believe my brother, then perhaps you will believe me.” He spoke with an authoritative voice into the microphone. Vandoraa glanced down to make sure they were still broadcasting. They were. “This is Tavron of the House of Neryx speaking. I can assure you that what you are seeing is the truth.” Even though Vandoraa had stopped talking, the images, video, and documents were still being broadcast. “My brother may be a traitor in the strictest sense, but everything he has done has been with the best intentions for the Drevi people.”
Vandoraa puffed up a bit with pride at his brother’s praise. Tavron must have been collaborating with Dr. Hio and planning this whole time. Perhaps he’d even been watching for them, which is why he knew to be at the broadcasting center. It wasn’t something he’d put past Tavron.
“If for some reason you refuse to believe the evidence my brother has risked his life and freedom to show you, then believe what I have uncovered myself, working as an official employed by the Drevi government. This is video I took myself, during an illegal execution of several human ‘specimens.’” Tavron took a small memory drive from his pocket and downloaded the file into the computer before playing it for the world to see. “Watch.” He waited a moment in silence as the image came to life on the screen. It was of a dark and dingy room in some undisclosed location. There were several Drevi in the shot, but not near as many as should have been present for a formal execution. There were also five humans, restrained against the wall. They all looked as though they’d been starved and beaten. Then the shooting started.
Vandoraa flinched and looked away, and it took all of Alana’s willpower not to do the same. In her mind’s eye the people they were executing were Koleans, years ago in a different conflict. The pain all came rushing back and it took everything she had not to fall to her knees and start crying. One of the humans looked a little like her late father, who had met a similar end.
But then the last execution began to take place, and a collective gasp came from the Drevi in the room. This prisoner was not human. She was Drevi. She was dressed in identical robes as those which Tavron wore, her head held high in defiance. A shot echoed through the speakers and the woman fell where she stood, blood spurting everywhere. The video ended.
“I witnessed this first hand. The woman’s name was Kuniir, a close friend of mine and a revered diplomat in service to Dreve. She was to inherit the House of Marata, now her younger sister must do so in her stead. No one could have ordered her execution but the Queen herself. My friends,” he continued softly, “let this stop. We must recall our Queen and hold a new election as required by our laws. This must be a peaceful process. We must prove to the humans and Koleans, as well as to ourselves, that the Drevi are not barbarians.” He finished eloquently, as any politician would. But Vandoraa could see in his brother’s eyes how troubled he was. The information he’d worked so hard to obtain had hurt Tavron to his very soul.
Tavron reached down and shut the equipment off, and the room exploded with din.
“Tell me it isn’t true, Tavron!” one of the women cried.
“There’s no way our Queen would do this!” the other female soldier exclaimed.
“I knew she was trouble. That’s why I never voted for her,” the male soldier growled.
Tavron’s voice boomed above the rest. “If you wis
h to do something about it, go talk to your superiors now. Get the generals in charge to suspend the invasion.”
“Tavron...” the leader of the Drevi security team began to say.
“May I speak to my brother in private?” Tavron’s tone was polite, but sharp.
“Of course, sir,” she said, shamefaced as she bowed. She and her comrades exited the room.
Vandoraa and Tavron disappeared into the remaining, empty soundproof room, leaving Alana alone. Her PD chose that moment to come to life.
“Alana!” A fuzzy transmission simmered to life on Alana’s PD. Alana was utterly shocked. “Mother? Where are you?” There was no way such a transmission could come through in real time all the way from Kolea. Her mother must be extremely close by, maybe on one of the Kolean ships orbiting Earth at that very moment.
“Danyara told me you had given your authority to her. What the hell’s going on down there?”
Alana had not been looking forward to this inevitable conversation with her mother, telling her that Alana was leaving her position in the KIS to be the First Officer on a human starship. “Well, it seems I’ve changed positions.”
A pause. “So you’re staying with Ted?”
“It feels like the right thing to do,” she said, unable to put her reasons into exact words. She wanted to be part of this exciting and fragile new time, when three species were going to have to put conflict aside and find a way to exist alongside each other, or risk constant upheaval. Alana wanted peace, and she thought she’d be in a better position to make a difference as a member of the December’s crew than as a minor intelligence agent back on Kolea.
To her mild surprise, Millika didn’t fight her. “As long as you can make it back here sometimes to visit,” Millika said sternly. “And set a date for that Bonding Ceremony. I need to start making plans.”
Alana figured she could live with that. “All right, all right. Now I need to go. I’m worried about Trell.”