The Only One

take out the southwest corner of the pad with the new charges and to bring back fuel. You accomplished a bit more than that, wouldn't you say?"
    Aleq scrubbed a hand over his bristly chin. "Yes."
    "On whose orders, Raider!" Romjha demanded coldly.
    Think fast, she willed Aleq. As reckless as he could be, as adolescent as he often seemed, she didn't want the commander to come down too hard on him. Even if what he'd done was wrong.
    "We broke the raiders' vow. We acted independently. If you remove me from the ranks, I'll accept it. But, sir, would you have told them no?"
    Romjha raised his visor. Rivulets of sweat ran down his cheekbones and square jaw. Hair that looked dark brown but was almost blond when dry lay wetly on his forehead. Gazing at the inferno, his expression brooding, he wiped perspiration from his brow with the back of a thick, grimy forearm. "No," he said at last.
    "I would not. I would have done the same."
    "What?" Taj almost stuttered. This was Romjha, the cautious, by-the-rules commander, the widower who never stopped grieving, a man she admired for his restraint, his principles, his prudence. Either her good ear had gone bad or her lip-reading was off, because Romjha couldn't possibly have said what she'd just heard.
    "We've lasted this long because we've lain low. We take only what we need—food, medicine—not airfields!"
    "But, Taj, do we remain underground forever?" Aleq asked.
    "If it's the safest option, of course we do."
    Romjha crouched at her side. "Taj, you shouldn't have to make such a choice. You deserve to live without worrying about killing or being killed. Maybe it was time to strike a blow back. I'd like to see it where women don't have to—"
    Not again. "I'm a soldier. I'm supposed to fight."
    A shadow passed over Romjha's harsh, rugged features. "It's wrong that those who should be protected find themselves fighting—both here on Sienna and on the other worlds. If I had the power and the resources, like these outsiders had, I'd do something more. I'd change everything. I'd ban weapons of mass destruction. I'd bring back the freedom to worship, to reproduce, to prosper. I'd bring us peace."
    There had always been something dead in the commander's gaze. Weary. Uncomplaining. But now those eyes had come alive. More than alive, they glowed.
    Petro appeared as astonished as Taj was by his leader's speech, but he seemed understanding, maybe even admiring of it. Gah! Petro was crazy, too. Maybe there was something in the drinking water that had infected all the men. She prayed it wasn't contagious.
    "Great Mother." She shook her head. "I cheat death in a hopeless life, but you dream. I don't know which is more futile—or more dangerous."
    "Don't be afraid, Taj," Romjha said in a gentler voice.
    The muscles in her back bunched. Her head throbbed. "I am not scared," she snarled. "I am incredibly irritated!" She wanted to wipe that knowing half-smile from his patronizing face. "If I am afraid of anything, it is of your mental stability—or lack thereof."
    He regarded her so intently that she grew warm. He didn't believe her; he didn't believe a word she'd said.
    "I want to take back our future, Taj. I don't want to sit here passively, waiting to see what will happen to us.
    Destiny isn't a matter of chance. It's a matter of choice. You yourself said that when Pasha died."
    She searched her recollections of that horrible night. "You remember that night?"
    "I have internalized it, my dear Taj." He leaned sideways, and his voice dropped to a private rumble close to her good ear. "I consider myself a patient man, but when I set my mind to achieving an objective, little can deter me. Often, a goal must be held close, buried deep, before it can be brought to fruition. I value most what I work hard to win, what requires time, thought, and careful wooing."
    Oblivious to words that had become strangely charged with an undercurrent that left Taj breathless, Jetter broke in. "Romjha, the warlord's forces are on the run. They're pulling out of the area."
    Taj could almost feel the jolt of interest that shot through Romjha. It matched the surge of dread that swelled coldly in her belly. If I ever have the chance to do more than dream, Taj, I will tak e it. What would he do?
    "How did you learn this?" Romjha asked.
    Jetter squared his shoulders. "The outsiders told us, sir."
    "They communicated with you? How?"
    "From the air. They transmitted their voices into our helmets. The static made it tough