Traitor's Trust

Chapter Three: Chipping the Ice

 

The next suspenseful installment of the original "Traitor's Trust" series by: Pizzachu

Blue.

All I see is a pale piercing blue.

Cold.

I'm shivering.

Where am I?  How did I get here?

And then it all comes rushing back to me like waves on the shore.

This is Frysta.

I'm still in the pilot's seat of the ship we took from Deyja.  The world seems to spin around me as I push myself back in the chair.  When the dizziness passes, I see the sparkling blue ice is cracked and shattered all around the nose of the shuttle.  But, of course, that's only to be expected.  We did crash after all...  I can barely fly a ship, let alone land one...  We came screaming through the atmosphere and, despite my best efforts to control our descent, crashed into the unforgiving ice-world.

I look around the trashed ship in search of my companions.  Kieron lies in the floor behind me.  Having heard my warning to brace himself too late, the poor kid had been unceremoniously tossed about like a ragdoll in the crash.  There's a nasty cut over his left eye, but he doesn't appear to be too seriously injured.  But as I continue to look about the cabin, I see no sign of Milly...

All of the view ports are more or less intact, so it's not like she just fell out of the ship...

Maybe she went for help?

Somehow that thought doesn't make me feel better.

Forcing myself to stand, my legs shake and threaten to give out.  I brace myself against my chair as I slowly move towards the unconscious boy in the floor.

    “Kieron. Kieron!”

    Kneeling down at his side, I shake him lightly.  He doesn’t respond.  Of course he doesn’t; that would make this too easy.  I slip my arm around him and carefully lift him from the floor.  My sore and bruised muscles scream in protest as I half-drag half-carry Kieron through the dying ship.  The floor is slick with invading ice, and more than once I feel the sting of the steel floor against my face.

    We found the boarding ramp already open, letting in the fierce eternal winter.  I stumble down the ramp, still supporting Kieron.  When we fell, I noted a small village just south of where I think we crashed.  Our best chances of survival are to make our way there.  Once I get Kieron help, I can worry about tracking down Milly.  Maybe she-

    “Stop right there.”

    I’m pulled from my thoughts of half-formed plans by a man’s rough voice.  I look up, startled to see the company before me.  There’s a handful of men wearing heavy furs bearing a crude representation of the Resistance insignia  and carrying weapons that would make anyone think twice before trying to make a run for it.  And there’s Milly!

    Her hands and feet are rooted to the ground by ice, and her nose is crooked and bloody.  She’s staring at me now, and she’s undoubtedly angry.  Milly struggles against her bonds of pure ice, futilely but spiritfully.  

    “Don’ jus’ stand there lookin’!  Make ‘im lemme go!”

    “Be still!”  The stern-faced leader’s harsh command would have made any sensible person do as he was told, but not Milly.  Of course not Milly...

    The girl spits at the man, causing him to take a step back in revulsion.  With a snarl, he raises the sword-like weapon in his hand, ready to rid himself of the nuisance kneeling on the ice.  Milly continues to stare at him in defiance, even as the deadly blade rushes towards her neck.

    Then the man lets out a strangled cry of pain and grasps his now bleeding hand as his weapon flies from his grip to pierce the ice a few feet away.  Six stunned faces turn in my direction as I hold steady the small blaster which until this point had been hidden within the right sleeve of my ragged jacket.  I may have had to laugh at such a sight, if I weren’t still dizzy and frustrated from this mess we had landed in.

    “That’s enough!  Is this really how you welcome guests around here?  How you treat your own?”

    The leader of the pack of Frystans faces me with murder in his eyes.  “You come to us in a time of war and expect a warm welcome?  You speak of being one of our own, but what are you to me, girl?”

    “How about you commanding officer?”

    At my words and the smirk that followed, I could see that he couldn’t decide whether to laugh in my face or order me shot on the spot.  Without taking my eyes off the Frystans for even a second, I crouch down so that I can rest a still unconscious Kieron on the ground and have my off hand free.  Once again on my feet, I lift my arm to allow my torn jacket to fall back from my wrist, exposing my skin to the chilling air and brilliant light.  I hold out my wrist for the furious Frystan to see.  His eyes widen almost comically in disbelief as he stalks towards me for a closer look.

    There on my left wrist, drawn in its signature blood red, is the symbol of the Resistance, worn only by tried and true high ranking officers.  Many find the practice of labeling ourselves so obviously to be unwise as it could prove fatal should we ever be captured by our enemies; but by the time you’re given the privilege of wearing the Mark, you understand - better to die with pride in whatever fashion your enemy may choose, than to live as if you can simply turn your back on everything you once fought for.  The Mark means inability to turn back, loyalty, determination, and power - everything this man did not want to see in the young woman who just crashed a ship virtually in his backyard.

    His face is a portrait of shock as his eyes drift down to the second Mark on my wrist, the one identifying me as a member of Kimara’s personal strike team.  We take- took orders from none but Kimara Tallin herself.  As soon as the fierce Frystan recognized this, the expression on his face changed to one of fear and barely suppressed rage.

    “My- My apologies, Ma’am.”  At a quick nod to one of the Frystans behind him, another man steps up to Milly.  He waves his hands in a form that immediately identifies him as a Current, or a manipulator of water and ice.  The ice trapping Milly’s hands and feet melts away, and as soon as it does, the girl jumps to her feet and kicks the man who freed her.

    “Milly.”  She looks at me and, with one last distasteful look at the Current, runs to my side.  “So how about we head to your camp now.  We have much to discuss.”

    “Of course, Ma’am.  Most of us have gone to the briefing on Deyja, but we retain a skeletal crew on base.  We would be... honored... to have an officer of your standing among us.”  He speaks as if the words are painful to him, and I only hope that I won’t have a problem with him later.  By rank, I am the leader of the Resistance now, but nobody except Kieron and Milly know that.  How I reveal this to the people here will have to be played with great tact.  Iif I handle this wrong, everything could be ruined...