Chapter 23 - A Death You Choose

  The streets of Sector 17 were alive with the muted hum of a million lives crammed into a sprawling network of streets and pre-fab buildings. The rain had turned everything slick, reflecting the glint of neon signs advertising cheap food and cheaper escapes. Overhead, drones buzzed through the air, quickly swallowed by the hiss of a maglev train shooting past.

  Darius pulled his hood tighter against the drizzle, casting a wary glance at the nearby checkpoint. It wasn’t particularly intimidating – the logistics of blocking off the hundreds of access points between sectors meant that each checkpoint was little more than some temporary barriers, a couple of vehicles, and a half-dozen Imperial enforcers.

  It wasn’t designed to stop an army, just to keep people in.

  “So,” Lena’s voice crackled over his comms, “What’s the verdict?”

  Darius cast a glance over at his companion for this outing to see if he would respond. Corin smiled politely, gesturing wordlessly for him to take the lead. The other man was hunched a little to disguise his height and wearing a worn old jacket with the collar turned up against the rain. Combined with his generally quiet demeanour and average build, Darius knew that he could disappear in a crowd in seconds.

  He let his gaze linger on the checkpoint for a moment longer before turning away, leading them down a narrower side street. The air here smelled faintly of ozone and wet concrete. “Not great,” he admitted. “They’re focusing on sector-to-sector traffic. Every checkpoint we’ve seen is basically identical – we could bust through if we really needed to, but not without tripping a dozen alarms.”

  “Tch, figures,” Lena muttered distractedly. “Tarek and Harlan are both reporting the same thing. Looks like we’ll be operating in this sector for the foreseeable future, then.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Darius asked, more for the sake of making conversation than anything else. “Make it easier for them to track us down?”

  “Sure, in theory,” Lena replied breezily. “But keep in mind that this is a residential sector – there’s something like three million people living here. As long as we’re careful, we can hide in the crowds and never be found.”

  “Worth remembering that we’re not the only Freeholder cell in operation,” Corin chimed in casually. “It’s not like the Empire is going to be focusing on us exclusively.”

  Darius frowned, his boots squelching in a puddle as they navigated the dimly lit side street. “Alright, so what are we supposed to do, then? This is a residential sector. Not exactly brimming with prime targets.”

  Corin tilted his head, considering. “That depends on how creative we’re feeling. The obvious options are patrols – plenty of those wandering around, and they’re poorly equipped for urban operations. We hit a few, and the message spreads.”

  “Wouldn’t that be escalating too quickly?” Lena asked over the comms, curious. “Not to mention that we wouldn’t actually get much out of it.

  Corin shrugged. “Possibly. But we’re going to reach that point eventually anyway, and it’s not like the Empire isn’t escalating themselves. Supply convoys are another option – military ones will be too well protected for us to hit alone, but the civilian ones will be vulnerable.”

  “Uh, woah, I don’t know how comfortable I am with going after anything that would affect innocent people,” Darius interjected. “Attacking an Imperial patrol or whatever, sure – they know what they signed up for. But civilians?”

  “We aren’t going to be hurting them,” Corin assured calmly. “The larger companies are all insured against loss like this, so all the drivers will get is a cool story to tell their friends, and the company will claim everything back. Don’t get me wrong – there’s no such thing as a truly victimless crime, but this is about as close as you can get.”

  “Still feels a little too close to the line,” Darius muttered, stepping around a wide puddle that reflected the warped glow of a neon holo-sign advertising something uncomfortably cheerful. “But I get what you’re saying.”

  Corin nodded as they turned a corner into a narrower street lined with stalls. The makeshift market smelled of fried food and damp cardboard, the vendors huddled under tarps as they called out half-hearted pitches to the thin crowd. A woman sold steaming bowls of noodles from a counter that looked like it had been cobbled together from scrap, while a man nearby gestured toward a rack of old-fashioned clothes, his sales patter drowned out by the hiss of a maglev train passing overhead.

  This kind of pop-up market was a depressingly familiar sight. The thing about wealth distribution was that it got worse the more the Empire expanded. The rich went from owning mansions to owning moons, while the poor… well, the poor basically stayed right where they were. Some things had gotten cheaper and more convenient, sure, but never the things that mattered.

  Darius was uncomfortably reminded that his situation could always get worse.

  “If you’re really interested in sticking to Imperial targets, there’s always the garrison,” Corin continued after a few minutes. “Significantly more fortified and a lot more dangerous, but the rewards are commensurate. They’ll have weapons, armour, tactical maps – things that might come in handy here, or elsewhere. The trick is finding the right time to hit it, preferably when they’re running a skeleton crew.”

  “You know, Corin, you’re... disturbingly good at this.” Lena chimed in before Darius could respond. “I didn’t think you were any more experienced than Tarek and I, but you’re talking like you’ve been doing this for years.”

  Corin let out a soft laugh, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Everyone has their talents.”

  He didn’t elaborate further.

  “Right, well… Harlan and Tarek are headed back now, so you guys should probably do the same.” Lena seemed happy enough to drop the topic.

  “Sounds good,” Darius said, eyeing his companion curiously. “See you soon.”

  – – –

  “We’re attacking the Imperial Garrison,” Tarek cheered as Darius and Corin walked through the front door of the safehouse.

  They shared a startled glance and a moment of mutual confusion. “Sorry, what? I feel like you’ve skipped a few steps there,” Darius managed to respond as he shrugged his way out of his jacket. “Like, maybe all of them.”

  “Ignore him; he’s being dramatic,” called Lena from the living room.

  “He’s also being very loud, considering we’re supposed to be laying low.” Harlan chastised pointedly.

  “Sorry,” Tarek said, not sounding very sorry.

  Darius and Corin entered the living room to find Harlan leaning over the table, examining what appeared to be a rudimentary map, tapping occasionally at a nearby dataslate. Lena was on one couch, looking a little nervous and doing something on her own slate, while Tarek was all but bouncing around the room.

  “Anyone care to explain?” Darius didn’t quite demand.

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  “Right, take a seat,” Harlan said, pulling himself up from his map and crossing his arms. “Tarek and I spotted something unusual on our scouting run. We were passing by the garrison, hoping to confirm troop movements or maybe glean something from their usual supply flow. What we saw was... different. More vehicles than usual, mostly cargo transports, but a lot of extra personnel too. We think this garrison is being used as a logistical hub for the area.”

  Corin raised an eyebrow. “Makes sense. If they’re serious about locking down sector-to-sector traffic, they’d need somewhere central to store and distribute supplies.”

  “Exactly,” Harlan said, voice grim. “That means there are significantly more resources at that garrison than usual—ammo, weapons, maybe even tactical intel. It’s a tempting target.”

  “By the sound of things, they’re going to have significantly more enforcers there as well,” Darius pointed out warily. “If anything, this is more reason to avoid the place than anything else.”

  Harlan inclined his head. “That’s the trade-off. This would be a significantly more dangerous mission than we’ve done before. It’s also not something we’ll be hitting tomorrow – or even next week. If we go after it, we need to be sure. That means studying patrol schedules, figuring out when their forces rotate, and knowing exactly what’s in those cargo containers. We don’t strike unless the payoff justifies the risk.”

  Tarek, still brimming with enthusiasm, leaned over the table. “But come on, think about it! If we hit them hard enough, we’d throw their entire checkpoint system into chaos. It’d give every Freeholder in the area a chance to regroup and hit back.”

  Darius settled back into his chair as Tarek and Lena started bickering about risks and payoffs. Corin seemed happy to quietly consider the proposal by himself – and judging by the man’s insights on possible targets, Darius was inclined to pay attention to his opinion once he shared it.

  For Darius himself… well, he wasn’t blind to the fact that his brother had been killed planting a bomb at an Imperial garrison. The thought that it may well have been similar, if not the same, circumstances had him feeling… he didn’t even know how he felt.

  Part of him felt that this was something close to poetic justice. A chance from the universe for him to continue his brother’s mission, see it through. Succeed in his honour.

  The other part mostly just felt sick.

  That part of him remembered the sinking feeling in his stomach as the Imperial officers pounded on the front door of his family home, coldly informing them that they were under suspicion of collusion with dissident elements.

  It remembered the confusion on his sister’s face as she struggled to come to terms with it. It remembered parent’s lost expressions as they realised they would never see their son again.

  {I’m detecting increased adrenaline and cortisol levels,} Echo’s voice broke through the haze, crackling through his augs. {Is something wrong?}

  Darius swallowed hard, rising from his chair and heading for the privacy of his room in a rush.

  {Darius?} Echo pressed as he crossed the short hallway and slipped inside.

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Darius muttered, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, trying to push down the memories clawing at the edges of his mind.

  {You are clearly distressed,} Echo pressed, its tone somehow managing to convey concern despite its flat, mechanical timbre. {If something is affecting your judgment or emotional state, it may impair your ability to operate effectively.}

  “I said it’s none of your business!” Darius snapped, louder than he intended. He flinched at the sound of his own voice, then groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry. Just… back off, alright?”

  Echo didn’t respond immediately, giving him a brief reprieve to collect himself. But the silence didn’t last long.

  {While I do not mean to press if the subject is sensitive, many mental health experts indicate that sharing your problems is the first step to fixing—}

  “Fine!” Darius barked, cutting the AI off mid-sentence. He threw himself onto the bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling. “If it’ll get you off my damn back. You want to know what’s wrong? My brother died because of a plan just like this one. That’s what’s wrong.”

  Echo paused for a beat, as if processing the weight of the statement. {Please elaborate.}

  Darius sighed, scrubbing at his face again before lacing his fingers behind his head, suddenly exhausted. “He was with the Freeholders too. Or something like them, anyway; he never told me the specifics. Same cause, same ideas. Thought he could make a difference by fighting back. Imperial forces shot him as he was planting a bomb near an exterior wall. Tore my family apart.”

  {This is why the current plan troubles you,} Echo concluded. {You fear history will repeat itself.}

  “As far as I’m concerned, it already has,” Darius laughed bitterly. “Maybe I get through this mission fine, but fighting against the Empire only ever ends one way.”

  {Perhaps it would be best to avoid the situation entirely?} Echo suggested.

  “Heh. Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly swimming in options here. Even if I wasn’t being hunted by the Empire, you’re still a ticking time bomb in my head.”

  There was a long moment of silence. {For what it is worth, I do regret how my actions have led to this situation.}

  “…Thanks,” Darius said dryly. Apologies were nice, but useless without action. “Worst thing is, the garrison idea will help us out as well. They’ll have a bunch of security and surveillance drones – nothing bipedal, but the parts themselves will be useful. Higher quality than what we could easily get, to boot.”

  Before Echo could reply, a knock sounded at the door. Darius stiffened, his hand instinctively twitching toward the pistol still tucked into his waistband, the motion almost surprising him. Since when was his first reaction to go for a weapon?

  “It’s me,” Harlan’s voice called through the door. “Got a minute?”

  Darius exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, come in.”

  Harlan stepped inside, his usual calm demeanour intact, though his gaze lingered on Darius for a beat longer than usual. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

  “You looked like you needed some air back there,” he said finally. “Figured I’d check in.”

  “I’m fine,” Darius replied, a little too quickly. He hated how transparent it sounded, even to himself.

  Harlan raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing over his chest. “You sure about that?”

  Darius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Why does everyone feel the need to ask me about my feelings today?”

  Harlan smirked faintly. “Maybe because you’re walking around like someone just kicked your dog. Look, I’m not here to play therapist – whatever you’re dealing with is frankly none of my business. I just need to know where your head’s at. Things are starting to heat up around here quicker than anyone expected. I know I gave you an opportunity to back out when we first met, and you didn’t take it. Situations changed enough since then that I figure it’s worth making the offer again.”

  The man held up a hand preemptively. “Not saying we don’t want you on board – cause we do. You didn’t freeze when the bullets started flying, and you helped out more than you probably know when that VI of yours hacked into the records systems. But there’s a difference between keeping your cool when someone shoots at you, and a whole other thing to be the one doing the shooting. If you’re not fully on board, that’s fine, but now’s the time to say so.”

  Darius hesitated, staring down at his hands. Part of him wanted to lash out, tell Harlan to back off, but the other part - the part he wasn’t ready to name - knew Harlan had a point. He needed to figure out what he was doing here, one way or another.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice quieter than he intended. “I hate the Empire as much as anyone here. More, maybe. But… I’ve seen what happens to people who try to fight back. I’ve lived through it. It’s pointless.”

  Harlan exhaled through his nose, his expression softening slightly. “So that’s it, then? You think we’re wasting our time?”

  Darius shook his head. “Not wasting it, exactly. But the cost…” He trailed off, staring at a crack in the wall. “The cost is too damn high.”

  Harlan pushed off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps into the room. “You’re not wrong about the cost,” he said, his voice quieter now. “We’ve all lost people. Friends. Family. Sometimes, I lie awake at night wondering if we’ll ever see the other side of this fight. But the way I see it, the alternative is worse. Sitting back, keeping your head down, hoping they don’t notice you? That’s just another kind of death.”

  Darius met his gaze, something sharp and defiant flickering in his chest. “Maybe. But at least it’s a death you choose.”

  Harlan regarded him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I won’t try to change your mind. But I need to know—are you in or out? No half-measures.”

  Darius opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, the words catching in his throat. The silence stretched, his thoughts racing as he turned the question over and over. Finally, he sighed, a decision crystallising in his chest.

  “I’m never going to be a Freeholder,” he said carefully. “But I’ll help you out. For my own reasons.”

  Harlan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

  “I need parts,” Darius continued, crossing his arms. “When we hit the garrison, I get first pick of the drones and their systems. Don’t ask me what for. Just know I’m not sticking around forever. As long as I’m here, I’ll pull my weight, but this isn’t permanent.”

  Harlan nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “I can work with that. You’re not the first we’ve worked with who’s thinking that way. As long as you’re honest and useful, we don’t have a problem.”

  Darius relaxed, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t completely fade. “Thanks. And… I’ll do my best not to screw this up.”

  “Good.” Harlan stepped toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here, even if it’s just for now. Sometimes, it’s the people on the edges who make the biggest difference.”

  Darius huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”