#unwaging war

[bri-s-notebook]

"Why did you come?"

"I don't know." He watched her as she looked around, anywhere but at him, her boots, the ceiling, the door through which she'd entered, that had sealed shut behind her and awaited her voice to be let out. Finally she looked at him, briefly, and back down at her boots. Standard issue, same as her troops wore. She'd never put much stock in officers' privilege. "I couldn't sleep last night?"

He smiled. "House too quiet without me?"

"I'm not in the house, I'm in the barracks now," she said.

He stared at her. "It was too quiet without me."

Finally she met his eyes, squarely. "Why did you tell me? Did you think I wouldn't have you arrested?"

"Something like that," Dareth admitted. "At least, I hoped not."

"You thought I would be more loyal to you than to my people," his wife said flatly.

He stood and drifted closer, a step, another. "I thought maybe I could convince you to give peace a chance, knowing how much you love your people."

She did not move away, and he took that as a victory. She did watch his approach warily. "It's not up to me."

"Have you signed an order for my termination?" he asked easily.

Alithea was very quiet for a few seconds. "It's sitting on my desk. That's not really up to me, either." No defensiveness in her tone, no pleading. Just a statement of fact.

"I know," Dareth agreed. Her loyalty was already in precarious question. The slightest hint of doubt, and she would be occupying a cell just like this one.

Which was why it was so collossally stupid of her not to have removed her sidearm before entering his cell. Dareth lunged, moving like lightning, and a second later had one arm wrapped across her chest and the muzzle of the gun pressed up under the corner of her jaw.

Alithea didn't move. "You won't shoot me." She might have been saying that the sun always rose in the east, or that the stars were only visible at night - absolute, unshakeable certainty of fact.

"You know that," Dareth agreed, "but they don't. And I have to say, sweetheart, it feels very nice to hold you in my arms again."

"An interesting way to seek peace, at the point of a gun," Alithea remarked, holding very still.

"The ends justify the means, or something like that," Dareth said, and dug the gun, very gently and briefly, into her skin. "Have them open the door."

She took a slow susurrating breath and called, "I'm ready, let me out."

The door slid open.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Actually you know what I'm gonna write this story but I'm gonna crowdsource it this time.

The stage: Earth at some unspecified point in the future when there is space travel, a one world order, a population decimation, and martial law. A war is ongoing with a planet full of human-passing aliens, who wish to commit a total genocide on Earth to acquire the planet for the use of their own overpopulation.

The scene: five(ish, maybe three, something like that,) years previously, one of said aliens, a spy, came to Earth, and married a human woman for cover. He has recently been discovered and incarcerated and is to be executed today.

The dilemma: I need him to escape as the very first scene. His wife is the guard during his execution, presumably as a test of her loyalty to the military order. Now:

Why does she help him escape?

Her loyalty to her husband is stronger than her loyalty to Earth

She doesn't, he kidnaps her instead

This is a double cross on the part of the military (continued below)*

Secret fourth option - he uses mind control on her**

Voting ended onOct 7, 2024

*This is a double cross on the part of the military and she escapes with him when they start trying to kill her too

**This was my initial teenage explanation, and it's kind of a neat one, but it has implications that I never explored further and ultimately have decided to scrap that angle entirely.

[bri-s-notebook]

In hindsight, she really shouldn't have been surprised that there was a Loran ship so close by. It had loomed large in the viewport, and she had listened to the comms exchange with as huffy an attitude as she could project with bound hands. Dareth, blast him, seemed to find her indignation endlessly endearing, offering sweet nothings and mild flirtations as he glided the stolen little ship into the docking bay.

"No critiques, darling? I know you could do this better," he said, settling the little ship down with a thump that made them both wince. The Loran groundcrew with their orange guidance cones, visible through the starshield, also collectively winced, or perhaps were merely shaken by the rough landing.

"Oh no," Alithea said acerbically. "You're doing great."

Dareth stood, unbuckling his harness, and took a bow. "Just trying to impress my lovely wife," he cooed, and reached over to unbuckle her harness as well.

For a moment, defiance warred with dignity in Alithea's breast. Dignity won and she stood regally - only to find herself arrested with one slender warm hand wrapped around her upper arm. She stopped, looking up at him - in surprise, in an automatic response, she could not say - and stood for a single instant, transfixed by his eyes. Blue as Arctic ice and warm as the Equator where they rested on her. The fingertips of his other hand just skimmed her cheek. "Stars, you're lovely," he murmured.

Habit, again, to lean into this caress, to let it be a soothing balm on her wounded heart, to savor his nearness and the quiet of the gently humming spaceship.

Then reality came crashing in again like a meteor. The humming spaceship was stolen, she was a prisoner of war, and her husband was a sworn enemy of her people and all that she fought for. Alithea's spine straightened with a snap that should have been audible, all the force of her betrayal and her rage (not grief, no time, no room for grief) weighing in her gaze as she glared at him. "Spare me your empty words."

"Never empty for you, darling," he said, but, mercifully, turned to activate the landing ramp. It lowered, and his grip around her bicep shifted. Head held high and spine ramrod straight, she marched regally at his side, her arm held captive in his hand, her life held captive in his hands.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Thinking about Dareth and Alithea again.

Maybe instead of opening with her breaking him out of prison (voluntarily or not) I open with him being arrested? And her too because guilt, or at least suspicion, by association.

Maybe he breaks her out of prison because he loves her for real and true and doesn't want her to die a traitor's death.

(This would eliminate part of the planned conflict, which was him realizing he loved her. I don't like interpersonal drama as conflict anyway though.)

I could keep her not wanting to turn traitor for real.

Maybe instead of Dareth realizing he loves his wife and therefore doesn't want humans wiped out, he had already come to this conclusion and the conflict is both of them trying to convince both sides there's a peaceful solution?

I could actually put him on the Council. Would get rid of some plot holes even if it would give me exciting new ones.

Also I need a stronger motive for the war than the tired old "aliens want to destroy humans"

Alternate to above ^ she is arrested on suspicion of being a spy but he skates. That could be delicious.

[bri-s-notebook]

THIS PART COMES AFTER THE MEETUP

EXPOSITION AFTER ACTION

Lora was a beautiful blue jewel of a planet, hung like a gleaming pale sapphire in the inky blackness of space.

[greenleavesandwarmbreezes]

Me: *rereading Draft Zeta of the first chapter of the scifi story I've been working on for almost fifteen years* No, nope, not remotely close to right either...