ReDawn (Skyward #2.2)(30)

“Progress for ReDawn,” my brother said with disgust, and I heard murmurs of agreement throughout the group of pilots.

Inin looked to Jorgen. She didn’t have a pin to translate, but Jorgen did. “You’re here to help rescue my father? To help us turn the wind to our favor?”

“Um,” Jorgen said. “We’re here to make an alliance.” He looked at me. “We’re stronger together, in theory, but we’re in a bit of a spot here. This isn’t exactly a strong position from which to mount a counteroffensive.”

“That’s true,” I said. “But we saved my people, and for that I’m grateful.”

Gilaf smiled at me, but he looked worried. All of them did.

    With good reason.

FM looked up through the skylight of the hangar, scanning for ships. “Can they get to us here?” she asked.

I searched for Quilan in the negative realm, and felt his mind hovering out in the miasma. “I don’t think so,” I said. “They don’t have any cytonics who can hyperjump. They could try to bring drones to distract the turrets, but they wouldn’t be able to get many ships in that way, maybe one or two, so we’d have the overwhelming force.”

By a large amount, with the Independence fighters here. Quilan would have to fall back and regroup. Given his current position, he knew it.

If the Superiority was really bent on collecting me, they’d show up eventually. But even Quilan didn’t have Superiority cytonics at his beck and call—and especially not if he expected to prove himself to them—so we’d bought ourselves some time at least.

“Can you hear their communications?” Jorgen asked. “Are they making a plan?”

I didn’t hear any hypercomm transmissions in the area, but Quilan would know I’d be listening for that. He might have switched to radio. “Can you try to find their channel?” I asked Jorgen.

“Sure,” he said. He reached for his radio, disconnecting the headset so we could all hear. He flipped through silence and static, and then a voice projected from his dash.

“—people of ReDawn, with bipartisan support, we are greatly pleased to announce—”

Gilaf swore, and I almost echoed him. The voice belonged to Nanalis.

    “Leave it there,” I said, and Jorgen pulled his fingers away from the dial.

Nanalis addressed the audience imperiously. “—our collaboration to elevate the UrDail onto the galactic stage.”

“Who is that?” Arturo asked, drawing closer.

“Council President,” I said. “Elected leader of ReDawn. Currently, anyway.”

Inin folded her arms and leaned back against the Superiority ship. Her father had been opposing Nanalis at Council for years.

“Thank you,” a familiar voice said, and Inin’s eyes widened. “This is Rinakin, High Chancellor of Independence.” It was Rinakin—I recognized his voice. “We may have our differences, but one thing both Unity and Independence agree on is that we want the best for ReDawn, and for her people.”

“Is that the person we were here to save?” Jorgen asked.

I nodded, though all around the room I could feel the Independence pilots tensing. Our side wasn’t supposed to talk like that, particularly not while Unity was in the middle of a military coup.

“It is time to set aside our differences,” Rinakin continued, “in the name of progress for ReDawn. I would like to announce a bipartisan cooperation with the Superiority.”

That was rotten wood. Rinakin was using nearly the exact words Nanalis had used in her announcement during the game. Jorgen looked at me.

“They’re making him say this,” I said. “They have to be.” Inin’s face hardened, and she nodded.

    “I will be working with Nanalis and the Council over the coming days,” Rinakin said, “to ensure the future of both Unity and Independence, and—first and foremost—progress.”

“Progress,” Gilaf said. “That’s what they say, but they’re selling us out. All the other outposts gave in. All of them but us.”

“There is one matter that concerns me as we move forward with the coalition,” Rinakin said. “Alanik, if you are out there, turn yourself in. It’s not too late to be part of the solution. Thank you.”

The broadcast ended, and Jorgen switched off the radio.





Twelve


I stared straight ahead, trying to make sense of it. One of the humans I hadn’t met yet scratched his head. “I’m not the smartest guy around,” he said, “but that sounded a lot like a vote in support of the Superiority.” I recognized his voice from the radio—this was Nedder, who flew with Arturo.

“They got to him somehow,” I said. They must have threatened him. Bribery would never work on Rinakin. He was too principled for that. But everyone had something they were afraid of. Everyone had something they weren’t willing to sacrifice.

I didn’t know what that thing would be for me, and I hoped I never had to find out.

“My father would never capitulate to the Superiority,” Inin said.

“That’s true,” I said, mostly for the benefit of the humans. Because it was true. Rinakin believed in debate, in discussion, in continuing to advocate and work with Unity. He believed in persuading people to see reason, but he always stayed true to his principles. There was no way he’d flipped sides in a matter of hours. And even if he had, he would never have called me out like that.