She scoffs softly. Of course not. Do not be a fool.
Sun Tzu said that. He was a Terran general. “Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will not be imperiled in one hundred battles.”
Sarai Rael said that. She was a Syldrathi Templar. “Know your enemy’s heart if you wish to feast upon it.”
… I think Sun Tzu’s way of saying it is a little more poetic.
I am Warbreed, Tyler Jones. What need have I of poetry?
Saedii stretches out her long legs in front of her, glaring. I’m painfully conscious of the fact she’s still wearing nothing but her underwear from the waist down, but, gentleman that I am, I keep my eyes fixed firmly on hers. Saedii’s fingers brush the string of severed thumbs around her neck, and I realize that once again, she’s trying to get a reaction from me. She knows how beautiful she is. She knows how that beauty throws people off balance if they let it, and she wants to see what it does to me. Everything about this girl is measured. Strategic. Calculating.
I also realize I’m still not wearing a shirt.
And that those legs of hers go up forever …
They want information about my squad, I tell her. Information you don’t have. Torturing prisoners of war is a violation of the Madrid Conventions. So don’t worry.
She arches one perfect brow.
Do I strike you as someone who is particularly worried, Tyler Jones?
If you had any idea what was really happening here, you would be.
I know exactly what is happening here. Your people have consigned themselves to suicide. Who will you mourn most, I wonder, when your world is dragged screaming into the black hole Archon Caersan makes of your sun?
I feel the anger flare inside my head.
You know, you talk about knowing your enemy, I tell her. Doesn’t anything about this situation strike you as suspicious? The Terran government has spent the last two years keeping its nose as far out of Syldrathi affairs as humanly possible. And now we just open fire on an Unbroken flagship for the fun of it?
The Unbroken never agreed to the Jericho Accord, boy. The war between our people never truly ended. It was only a matter of time before Syldrathi hands once more gleamed with Terran blood. This is a matter of honor.
Can’t you see when you’re being played?
She looks at me and sneers.
You are afraid of the coming storm.
Of course I’m afraid! Billions of people could die!
You are unworthy of the blood in your veins.
I shake my head and turn away. I know I should be trying to get her on my side. I know the enemy of my enemy is my friend. But I feel like there’s no point in even talking to this girl. I understand what it is to be a soldier, to fight for something you truly believe in. But Kal’s sister seems like nothing but rage and scorn.
Still, she presses on, looking at me with those black-rimmed eyes.
Jericho Jones had the courage to fight when his world needed him. When the call was sounded at Orion, he at least was honorable enough to answer it.
I glare at her, jaw clenching at the mention of my dad.
You think there’s honor in another massacre? We both lost our fathers in that battle, Saedii—isn’t that enough?
Saedii’s eyes narrow.
Is that what Ka—
The door slides open with a soft whisper. I look up and see half a dozen Terran marines in full tac armor, disruptors cradled in their arms. My heart sinks, my throat constricts, as I remember that pain collar slipping around my neck. The thought of another round of torture fills my stomach with slippery ice.
“Oh Maker,” I croak.
The marines file into the room, boots ringing on the floor. But instead of grabbing me, they march over to Saedii’s bio-cot, surround her in a small ring.
“Hands, pixiebitch,” their lieutenant commands, holding out a set of mag-restraints.
“… What do you want with her?” I demand, my throat aching.
“Hands,” the LT repeats, his comrades punctuating the command by raising their rifles. “Now.”
“She doesn’t know anything,” I protest. “You don’t—”
“Shut your mouth, traitor,” one of the marines snarls at me.
Saedii’s voice rings in my head, that small smile growing a little wider.
This is courage, little Terran. Watch and learn.
She stands slow, languid, extending her arms and offering her slender wrists. She’s outnumbered six to one, and already wounded. But as the LT moves to slap on the restraints, Saedii brings up her hand and