Background chapter

The woman was hunched over as she ran down the dim corridor. It was obvious that she was trying to avoid something or someone, because she continually glanced back over her shoulder and into the hallways she passed, her brown eyes filled with worry. Her speed had caused the long black cloak to billow out behind her and the hood to slide off and rest between her shoulder blades. Not noticeable at first, but visible now as she pauses and straightens before crossing the intersecting hallway, the woman is clutching a bundle with strong but gentle arms. Immediately, she is off again, slowing as she reaches each new hallway and darting past when no one is available to oppose her. Presently, she stops completely, for several guards roam the hall she must now cross. This hall was really more of a corridor than a hall, for it was wider than many of the other halls the woman had passed. The difference between this corridor and the other ones could be likened to the comparison between alleyways and an actual street. In fact, this was the exact distinction. The woman had been winding her way through mostly “back alleys” and infrequently used “streets” in order to avoid detection. The woman now forces her breathing to return to a semi-normal rate while she pulls her long, nearly black hair forward to hide her face as much as possible—having the hood up would be even more suspicious. The hair was straight at the woman’s scalp, wavy in the middle, and again straight at the ends, as if it had been in a wet braid as it dried, then let down.

The woman knew she would have to time it perfectly. Guards were everywhere, and they were also in the intersecting hall she now had to cross. Thankfully, the woman had learned very well her lessons as an adolescent, now over fifteen years earlier. Remembering them now (as if she could forget!!), she listened to the muffled, nearly silent footfalls of the guards. Although a barely audible whisper came from each footfall or slight rustle of their clothes as they moved, and the guards’ breathing was for all practical purposes silent, the woman determined that six guards roamed the corridor she must cross, three on each side of the opening of the hallway she stood in. As the woman continued to listen, she was forced to block out the memory of sounds ringing through the similar, though far away, metal corridors that she had run past during her journey. She knew those sounds. Many times she had caused them. They were the sounds of hand-to-hand combat in a world where technology didn’t leave room for hand-to-hand combat. It was the sound that she wished she would never have heard. It was unforgettable…NO! The woman wrenches those thoughts from her mind. They were dangerous enough in the best of circumstances, but now, they could mean life and death, and not just for her, she thought as she looked wistfully and lovingly to the bundle in her arms. For a moment, renewed grief filled her chest, as she thought once more of what she was doing. Yet again, the woman forced her thoughts to the present. Her breathing was almost normal now, and her head was clearing ever so slightly. She shifted the bundle so that its weight was entirely on her left arm, making sure her grip upon it was as sure as before. Curiously, the woman held the bundle higher and more to the side than necessary—she held it so that nothing of the bundle or her arm interfered with her right arm’s path to her left hip. In fact, she shifted around a couple times before she apparently got it right. However, the reason became clear as she checked the position by reaching across and patting the hilt of the short sword sheathed on that left hip. Knowing that any delay in reaching her sword could prove fatal, she checked one last time and made sure that her cloak was far enough away from the hilt to prevent any problems.

Another deep breath, and she sensed the moment was near. Her subconscious had finally recognized the pattern that the guards were using. The pattern had been more difficult because it had a slight variation that the woman had not previously encountered. But, now that she knew it, she would never forget it. She never forgot anything, including…she glanced at her slight burden and silently promised exactly that. I will never forget. No, never can a woman forget something like this. I promise, her face seemed to say.

Presently, one of the guards sneezed and nearly sent the woman out of her skin. When once again her heart had stopped trying to alert the guards, the woman carefully took note of each rustle of clothing and finally seized her opportunity. A quick blink as if a prayer preceded her bold step across.

Six steps. That was all she asked for. Five steps would get her across the corridor, and the sixth would see her safe from the guards’ sight. Without even meaning to, the woman counted the steps silently. One. She forced herself to relax and breathe normally. Two. She could still turn back and look for another way across. Three. Her foot seemed to slow down, while her heart pounded harder, as if urging her foot to hurry. Four. She thought she might make it across. Fi-- She got halfway through the fifth step when she heard the voice, and her heart skipped a beat before finding yet a quicker tempo than before.

“Hey, you! Stop!”

At that point, only the guard farthest to her right had actually begun to react to her presence. The woman was tempted to run, but then these guards would alert others and her chances would go down even further. Instead, she completed the fifth step and turned the sixth into a spin, causing the guard who had seen her to now be on her left. During that spin, she drew her sword in case the guards were already there when she turned around. She stood in the middle of the hallway she had hoped to enter unnoticed, facing back the way she came. Her last step had brought her a foot or so into the hallway, which she would use to her advantage. The closest guard had now reached the entrance to “her” hall. His sword was drawn, tip pointed to her. Her sword briefly flashed in the faint light as she brought it up to meet her opponent. The protesting of metal on metal rang out as the two met full force. Though the guard was no rookie to battle, he was no match for the woman in front of him. His sword rattled ominously as his slack form slumped to the floor with two muffled thumps. Before he was even fully to the ground, two of the other guards had already replaced him. The woman’s skill was evident as she held off the two attackers while looking for an opening in their twirling, flashing wall of metal that she met with her own. Quickly enough, she found one in the right-hand guard: his figure eight had a slight wobble to it that the woman promptly used to her advantage. By merely bumping the guard’s sword on that wobble, she knocked it out of her way and into the way of the other guard. This bought her the time needed to thrust her sword into the heart of the right-hand guard, retract it, and turn once again to face the other guard just as he recovered from his now dead comrade’s unintended sword-strike. This guard posed little threat for the woman either, for he only registered that she had gotten through his defense as the hallway turned sideways and he too, was lying on the hard floor that was beginning to become slick due to amount of blood coming from the three downed guards. The next three hesitated as they glanced at their fellow soldiers’ plights, wondering if disobeying direct orders would really be that bad. On that thought, they rushed to attack this strange woman, for they at least had a chance against her; they would rather face this woman than their commander if they failed to obey him. The first to reach her fell before the second could catch up. Pulling up in surprise, the second slipped on the slick floor and never rose again, thanks to that woman’s sword. The last changed his mind and turned to run for it. Before he had gone three steps, a red point burst through the front of his chest and he died apart from the others.

The woman made a face as she looked back over the grisly scene. Quickly, she cleaned her sword on the last man’s cloak and replaced it in her scabbard. She then checked on the bundle that had prevented her from bringing her full skill to bear. She sighed with thankfulness as it proved to be fine in her hasty inspection.

Once again, the woman began to sprint down the corridor, ever closer to the center of the city, ever farther from the battle she should be fighting.

As she continued toward her destination, the woman encountered guards more frequently; each skirmish would end the same as the first. One to eight guards lain low by her sword, a worried inspection of the bundle, and a continuation of the journey.

She reached an open area that was one of the many docking bays of the city. This one was relatively small: it only held about three hundred spaceships and the related equipment of their upkeep. Suddenly, an armored man rushed up to her with sword drawn. She hurriedly drew her own and automatically stepped her left foot back, both for fighting her opponent and for protecting the bundle. As soon as the man registers her movement, however, he holds his hands up, left hand empty, right hand holding his sword vertically in a pose making defense awkward. Her sigh of relief seems to signal the man to relax as well. The woman then rushes to greet her husband whom she had failed to recognize immediately because of his armor: he wore the same armor that the guards in the hallways had worn. The same armor she had used to identify her enemies. Her relief for her husband’s safety came out in a rush:

“You made it! I was so worried!!”

“Me!? You’re the one who had to run through all of those blockades! All I had to do was steal a spaceship! You were in the most danger, and I could do nothing to help you except something that put even more danger between us!! Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe!! I love you so much, my sweetheart!”

“I love you too, dear.” For a few moments, the couple stared into each other’s eyes and drank in one another’s presence and love. For a few brief seconds, there was no war, there was no loss, there was no difficult decision to make, only two newlyweds expressing their silent love for each other.

It was the shouting that broke the trance.

“Guards! They must have found one of the checkpoints I went through!” Neither added the unpleasant thought of what the guards had found at that checkpoint.

“Get into the ship! I’ll cover you!”

The woman darted toward the ship just as precious laser fire burst through the hall she had just emerged from. This impressed both the woman and her husband: if their enemy was arming the foot soldiers with lasers, either the enemy had a much more plentiful source, which was unlikely, or the enemy considered the couple to be very important to kill. They rushed up the boarding ramp and into the spaceship; the woman curling her torso around the bundle as she had in the hall, and the man running backward trying to block the attackers’ view of his wife. With the door shut, the two began the process of launching a ship, something they had done many times together. As they started up the “indoor” thrusters, as they were called, the husband seemed to remember something with a guilty start.

“Is…?” His tone and hesitancy told his wife the remainder of his question.

“Yes, she is fine. I wish--” The lump in her throat and knot in her stomach and chest prevented her from continuing her statement of wish. However, just as she had known his statement, he knew hers just as well. His sad eyes hovered on the floor for a moment before rising to meet hers, his hands paused in forgotten tasks.

“We both wish that. We can only do what we trust is God’s will for our lives and that of our children. Our children are His first and foremost, and He takes care of His own. When He asks us to give one of His children back, we must choose to honor him, even if the choice is such a hard one as this.”

The woman nodded. This was nothing new. They had both discussed this subject lengthily many times. She had just needed to hear the words again.

A spatter of hand-held laser fire poinged on the hull of the ship in the peculiar way it always did, and awoke the two from their reminiscing. It would do no good to attempt such a difficult feat only to lose because of too much sentiment.