Operation Darkness: Under the Shadow
by Durandir


It was no surprise to find Thayer in the hangar, anxiously watching the pilots
ready their fighters, lending a hand now and again as he could. Even after
relinquishing Grace Squadron to Reth's and then to Noreh's leadership, he'd
never ceased being a pilot at heart.

I stopped and slipped an arm around his waist as he watched the Graces making
final adjustments to the rewiring that was supposed to make their ships more
effective against the enemy's coralskippers. I had other things to be doing, but
the chance of another brief moment with my husband? It couldn't be turned down.
Every such moment was more precious and more painful than I could ever have
known; who could say which of them might turn out to be the last? Even more
painful was every briefest glimpse of my son; Llessur had had to shoo me out of
his nursery half a dozen times by now, but still I could not keep away.

I held tight to Thayer, glad just to have him near enough to touch for this
brief while. "You wish you were flying with them."

"It's the King's place to lead the battle."

"Your pilots know you'd be in the front ranks if you could, though. And they
know they'll all be safer and more effective when you're coordinating the battle
from here."

"Still, I do wish I were flying. You'll be out in the midst of it--do you know
how hard it is to let you go, while I must fight from within the bounds of the
Palace?"

"I'm glad you'll be safe here. Well, safer, anyway. For maybe a few more
minutes, anyway. You know we've got scarcely a chance in the space battle."

"Nonsense. I'm letting you fight in it, aren't I? Would I, if I didn't believe
you'd be coming back?"

"I made that promise once before, Thayer. I don't think I dare make it now."

"You will be back," he insisted. "I'll be here, keeping the Palace fires burning
for you."

"Thayer," I said, "what if the Palace doesn't stand? If we fail to turn them
back in space . . ."

"You won't--"

"You know what it is we're facing, though. And once they get through to the
planet itself . . . Lunar Base didn't stop them; how can the High Palace do any
more?"

"Lunar Base wasn't expecting them. We are."

"Still." I sighed and gave up. It was good, after all, that he wasn't afraid,
that he was ready for the battle. Everyone--Terra Group as much as Mendellia,
now, since Sci was . . . dead or incapacitated or whatever; and soon, I hoped,
the rest of Terra as well--would look to Thayer for leadership. He wouldn't
disappoint.

~

I started to go, to continue on my errands--there was so much to do before the
enemy returned, and they would return all too soon--but turned back immediately.
Something was still troubling me.

"Thayer," I said, "can we win this?"

"We must," he said.

"But will we be able to?"

He considered for a moment, and then when he looked at me again, for the first
time I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "That remains to be seen. Brad destroyed
the first of their warships--that bodes well for us--but how many more might
they send? We have only one Brad."

I nodded. "And if we don't win this first battle? Once they reach Terra
itself--Thayer, the Palace isn't going to stand against them long."

"We'll hold out as long as we may--but I'm afraid you're right."

"Then what will we do?"

"Do?" He reached out to tuck a loose curl behind my ear, favoring me with his
bravest smile. "Why, we'll fight them, stand as long as we can, and keep faith
to the end."

"What if it doesn't end?" I remembered details from Sharon's briefing on the
invaders. "They seem all too fond of taking prisoners--making slaves of them, or
sacrifices."

"Sacrifices?" He laughed, and there was real amusement in the sound. "Bec, they
don't know what sacrifice is. We have the advantage there, for we know. We've
pledged our lives in the defense of the innocent. Our people. Our son. The Vong
know nothing of such matters."

I smiled and shook my head. "That makes ours the nobler cause, maybe, but what
good will our lives do to defend so many if we just get ourselves killed in the
first attack? If the Palace falls--what hope is left? Thayer, I think it's time
we put the Refuge to use."

"The Caldera?" He raised his eyebrows and considered this. "Perhaps you're
right. It's not quite ready yet for the Academy. . . . But as sanctuary, well,
it might do."

"Then we'll activate it? Now, before the battle begins, just in case?"

"Yes, we'd better."

"I'll see to it."

He grinned and kissed me goodbye. "I thought you might."

~

I made my way to the Batcave, because that's where we keep the speeders for the
tunnel system, and that was the quickest route to the Caldera Refuge. As I
reached the tunnel entry, a familiar but unexpected voice called me back. "Your
Majesty!"

I turned to see Kristy, our esteemed Prophetess, curtseying before hurrying down
the ramp of one of Terra Group's transports. I've suspected at times that what
she liked best about my becoming Queen was how it increased her opportunities to
practice her curtsey. And she practices it much more on me than on Thayer,
anyway. Probably because I, being less accustomed to it, am annoyed by it more.

"Piki!" I called, jogging back to meet her. She started into the curtsey again,
but I caught her in a hug before she could finish. "Enough of that."

"What's going on, Your Majesty?" she asked.

"And stop calling me that, too. Did you just get here? Oh, I'm glad you did--"
Remembering again the Terra Group agents lost on Luna, I hugged Kristy tightly
once more.

"I came as soon as I got your message," she smiled. "Left Alix with friends and
pled a family emergency to get away from grad school. What's happened? Your baby
's okay, I hope?"

"Riehn? Um--sure, he's fine. Why?"

"Oh, good. I was so worried that something had happened to him before I ever
even got to meet him! So--where is he? And if he's okay, then . . . what *is*
the matter?"

"Well, you'll meet him in good time," I said, "but first--I've got to run out to
the Refuge site right now. Want to ride along and I'll explain everything?"

~

It used to be a day's walk to cross the island through the tunnels. Old,
much-repaired golf carts (pilfered, most likely, from country clubs loyal to
Eugor Atner) had occasionally helped to speed the process for the Resistance
when they dwelt in their hidden caves. Now, Kristy and I shot through the
tunnels in mere minutes in the newly installed repulsorlift shuttle.

If the Palace fell, the shuttles would probably go, too. They'd have to. The
tunnels would have to be closed off to the Vong, or all our work at the Caldera
would be for naught.

The time of the shuttle ride was just sufficient to brief Kristy on our
situation. By the time we transferred at the crossroads from the regular shuttle
to a vertical lift, we'd both spent our tears for our fallen and turned our
minds to the battle to come.

Then the lift reached the summit and we stepped out into sunlight. "Prophet
Kristy," I said, "welcome to the Caldera Refuge."