Fourth Vector Ch. 48

Sarah wiped a tear from her cheek. "I'm not a child, Victor. I know the risk that comes with being here. We all do. Any attack could be our last and we still go out and fight when we need to. Michael's not responsible for anyone's death."

Victor smiled fondly. "If only he would listen to those words. I've said them a half dozen times myself. Still, he nods like he understands but the words fall on deaf ears. It's quite a pity actually."

"What's a pity?"

Victor gave her a knowing look. "A pity that he's choosing to shut himself off from everyone when now is the time he needs someone there for him the most."

Sarah's breath caught in her mouth. "You don't think that he would do something... rash, do you?"

"Hmm? Like what?"

She shook her head. "I don't even want to say the suggestion out loud."

"No, I don't believe it would come tothat," said Victor, catching her drift. "But I do think that Michael will only get out of this when he realizes he can't be a rock unto himself. He's going to need someone to help steer him through this. I hope it can be you, Sarah. I know what he means to you."

Sarah turned away, suddenly embarrassed. "Means to me? Victor, he's a friend. You make it sound like it's something more than that."

She hoped that he wouldn't be able to read her expression but Victor was too intelligent for that. His eyes were wide and a smirk was prominent on his lips.

"Sarah, I've been around the block a few times," he said, stifling a chuckle. "I know what my eyes tell me. You don't need to be embarrassed about liking him."

She let out a sigh. "There's nothing great about liking someone who barely knows you exist."

"He knows you exist. And if he doesn't realize how you can enrich his life, then that's on him. My thoughts are that he'll get there someday. It's just going to take time."

"Time, time, time," whined Sarah. "Everything takes too much time. What I wouldn't give to have known him before this time. Before the war. There was a woman once who saw all that Michael had to offer before he turned into this jaded warrior we have today. Sometimes, I would like to know what he was like back then. Back before time made him what he is."

Victor shook his head. "Don't ponder about the man he was, Sarah. Embrace the man that he's become. Michael is talented in many areas. H believed in him, and you know the standards that he kept. It's easy to wonder why he is the way that he is. The harder thing to do is to accept him for who he is and to keep trying anyway."

Sarah opened her mouth to say something but shut it instead. Victor was right. She could spend all her time wondering why he wouldn't give her a chance, or she could look past it and just be the best friend that she could be. Even if that meant there was no chance of anything more developing.

If he needed a friend, then that was what she would be. And if he only needed a friend, well so be it.

"Nothing ever comes easy, does it?" mumbled Sarah a moment later.

Victor started to chuckle. "Nothing worth having, that's for sure. Take for example the main door to this barn. When we got here, it wouldn't even sit on the hinges, letting all the cold air in at night. Even with all our manpower, we couldn't get it to sit right because of the rusted hinges. But you clean the hinges and replace the rotted wood, and now we have a working door to our hideaway."

Sarah gave him a weird look. "How does that have anything to do with what we were just talking about?"

"It doesn't, but I figured you could use something lighthearted to get your head back on track."

Sarah started to laugh. "Thanks, Victor. Well, I appreciate you taking the time to listen to what I had to say. I was half-afraid you wouldn't understand."

To her surprise, he nodded eagerly. "The Victor of six months ago? He probably wouldn't have understood. The Victor of today? I like to think I've come a long way."

"What changed for you? What was the difference?"

A look of sadness appeared on his face quite suddenly. He took a moment to choose his words. "Perhaps it was finding out the hard way that I couldn't keep going down the same path that Michael is now going down. Sooner or later, the real world catches up to you. It's a humbling experience, and I can say that it would have been a lot easier if I had let someone in at the time."

Sarah didn't know exactly how to respond to that, but thankfully, Victor didn't have anything else to say. He patted her back in a fatherly manner before going back to whatever he was working on.

At least Victor's words gave her hope. If he could come back, why couldn't Michael?

And didn't that justify her decision to keep trying?

*****

Michael woke up with a start that afternoon, quickly sitting up and grabbing his rifle to make sure it was still there. Of course, it was, but at that moment, the dream he'd been having had seemed all too real.

It was a dream he'd had before, one that had played out many times in the course of the last week. In the dream, he saw himself trying to reach H through a swarm of bullets and blood. Every time he had the dream, he never managed to reach the rebel leader before he was cut down, which almost always led to Michael being surrounded and taken out himself.

Michael knew exactly why the dream kept playing over and over again. It was a stark reminder of his failure to save H, and about how his bungled mission got so many of his people killed.

Not much had changed for the rebel group since taking refuge at the abandoned farmstead outside of Belfort. Their numbers had increased slightly from those that were able to escape the city, but there was no denying that they'd lost a good chunk of their people in that last raid. Morale was incredibly low. To make matters worse, everyone seemed to be stuck with the same mindset.

Mainly, how were they going to move forward from this?

Due to the fact that they were all stuck in neutral, Michael saw theiresprit de corps continue to decline. A few of them had snuck away in the night, no doubt disillusioned with their prospects and not wanting to take any further part in the rebellion.

Those that remained struggled daily for a reason to keep fighting the good fight.

And somehow, some way, Michael had to figure out how to strike back while regaining his own confidence at the same time.

Right now, that seemed like an impossible task.

It was of little wonder why morale was in the gutter.

"Michael?"

As soon as he heard the voice, Michael scowled. He knew who it belonged to before even looking up.

"What do you want, Sarah?" he asked with a worn-out tone.

He could hear her gentle footsteps pad across the top of the barn. Soon enough, he could just feel her presence behind him, even if he hadn't actually looked at her yet.

Michael gulped as he finally turned around. He contrived a look of annoyance, even though he didn't really mean it.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

Sarah put on a brave face. "I just wanted to see how you were holding up. Are you feeling okay today? Do you need anything?"

She actually cares about you. Why do you keep shunning her?

Michael shook the thought from his head. His answer was more gruff than he intended.

"No, I'm fine," he snapped.

Sarah took a step back but she wasn't done fighting yet. "Are you hungry? I could bring you something to eat if you are--"

"I said I'm fine, Sarah," he said, raising his voice.

This time, she actually recoiled from him. At that moment, Michael felt like the biggest piece of shit in the whole country. All this woman was trying to do was take care of him and he had to treat her like this?

It's for her own good though. If she gets tied to you, you're just going to bring her down with you.

Deep down, he knew that side of his conscience was right. Despite the battle inside him, it was for the best that he turned his back on her.

He didn't want to give her false hope.

"Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you," she said, putting her heart on the line for him.

Michael knew what needed to be done even if he hated it.

"Quit wasting my time, Sarah," he said cruelly. "Do us both a favor and leave me alone."

He expected several reactions from her except for the one he got. Michael had never seen Sarah angry before. Sad, yes. Pleasant, always, but angry? He didn't even know that Sarah could frown.

But now she was definitely angry. She planted her hands on her hips as a look of defiance filled her face.

"You're an asshole, Michael!" she said quickly, stunning him with her words. "When did you become so fucking cruel?"

She didn't wait for him to answer. Sarah quickly turned heel and marched away, stomping her feet the entire time and making the entire barn shake. It was quite the feat for such a tiny woman, but there was no doubt that she felt her anger to be entirely righteous.

Michael's head fell after she was gone. She was right about one thing.

He was an asshole.

He was an asshole for continuing this charade that Sarah could be part of his life, in whatever form that was going to take. It was for the best that he did what we did. At some point or another, the conversation would have had to happen. Best to do it now to lessen the pain.

If that was the case, why did he feel more hurt now than ever?

Michael swallowed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his hands. At that moment, a particularly nasty thought implanted in his mind, one that he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried.

Michael was no stranger to the fact that there were many people who considered the last Bainbridge emperors to be callous brutes themselves. His great-uncle, Charles IX, had definitely demonstrated those qualities on numerous occasions. His cousin, George, had a cruel streak a mile wide, but Michael had always thought that he was different from them. That he cared about others and that he treated people with kindness and sincerity.

However, he was certain that Sarah would scoff at such an idea.

At that moment, he truly felt that perhaps he was more like his relatives than he wanted to admit. Maybe Charles had started off his life in a similar way, hardened by time and necessity into the cruel bastard that he became.

Was Michael bound to share the same fate? Was there any coming back from it?

What if he was destined to be just as mad as his forebearers?

That thought kept circling Michael's mind for the rest of the day. By the time of late evening, he was in a decidedly sour mood, and it wasn't helped at all when Victor came up to the second floor to check on him.

Victor seemed to know that something was up right away.

"You've seen better days, my old friend. You look like something's troubling you greatly."

Michael let out a deep sigh. "Many things trouble me these days. I remember at one time life used to be without a care in the world. What happened to those days?"

Victor chuckled. "You grew up, that's what happened. Being carefree like a child only works when you're five. Sooner or later, the world makes demands of you. And the more capable you are, the more demands you get."

"Not exactly the enthusiastic response I was looking for," grumbled Michael.

"Sorry, but that's about as much enthusiasm as you're going to get these days. Feel like some company?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Why? Did Sarah put you up to this?"

Victor winced. "No, although there's something to be said there. You really need to take it easy on the girl. She's locked herself in one of the horse stalls and hasn't come out since you talked with her. Were you mean to her?"

"I was mean to her for her own good," replied Michael, raising his chin. "I don't want to give her the wrong idea that... that..."

Victor held up his hands. "You don't need to explain it to me but you should pick your words a little more wisely. It's not exactly a secret what her intentions with you are."

Michael gulped. Victor had a point but Michael was not the romantic partner that Sarah was looking for. He was the jaded leader of their rebel group. Besides, how could he give her the affection she was seeking when he had nothing left inside him in the first place?

When Michael didn't answer, Victor softened his approach. "What would be so terrible about letting that girl in? Does she not do it for you? Are you not attracted to her?"

Michael shook his head. "That's not it at all. She's a pretty girl. It's just that..."

"What? I'm all ears."

Michael sighed. "Forget it. It's not worth talking about."

Victor gave him a fatherly pat on the back. "Michael, when are you going to learn that you don't have to constantly torture yourself for the past? It's gone now."

Michael glared at him. "How long did it take you to get over the past? You above everyone else know what I'm going through."

"And you'd be right, but I have gotten over it. Just like you will. She can help you do that, Michael. Just open up a little bit. I know that you remember what it's like to have the soft touch of a woman at night."

At that moment, Michael's mind was assaulted by memories of Jade. The way she felt after having sex, when her body was slick and her chest heaving. He tried to picture Sarah's face in her place. Surprisingly enough, he didn't hate the idea as much as he thought he might.

It was actually rather pleasant.

Michael couldn't help but let a small smile show on his face, something that Victor pounced on right away.

"So, you're human after all," said Victor with a cat-like grin. "I don't believe it!"

"What you're suggesting isn't that easy though," said Michael as he came back to reality. "All I've done is push her away. She called me an asshole just a bit ago, and you said yourself she's still in the stall downstairs."

"You and I both know that things said in the heat of the moment are rarely an accurate depiction of true feelings," said Victor. "Perhaps Sarah needs time to cool down. Perhaps you need time to get your head on straight. Either way, don't write her off just yet. And for the love of god, stop sticking your foot in your mouth every time you talk to her."

Michael scoffed. That was easier said than done. Especially when it came to matters such as this. He'd rather plan a hundred operations against Bancroft than have an honest conversation with Sarah. Maybe that was part of the problem?

"All right, enough about your personal life," said Victor with a chuckle. "Let's talk shop."

"Finally, something that I won't feel embarrassed about," muttered Michael.

"I've heard from one of my men in the city, one of the spies I have posted to keep me abreast of what's going on," started Victor. "Things are locked down pretty tightly right now. Almost all of Bancroft's army is garrisoned in the city. Every street corner has soldiers on it. I've never seen things locked up this tight. He did say that none of the soldiers looked happy to be there. My guess is that they're seeing the same destructive effects on their morale as the common people."

"We can only hope that's the case. It would make things easier for us," said Michael. "But, no doubt Bancroft's scared about the approach of the Tyroleans. My only surprise is that his army hasn't marched out to reinforce the other one in the field against the rebels."

Victor chuckled. "And leave Belfort unguarded against us? Or leave it for Jack Easterbrook for that matter? No, he won't do that. Bancroft is in a tough place right now. His army in the field against the Tyroleans in reeling from loss. He can only reinforce them so much, but in doing so, he makes his capital more vulnerable. The people are more restless than ever, and any more blows against Belfort directly will only work against him. What remains to be seen is what this Easterbrook guy does. Will he make for Belfort as Bancroft expects? Or will he go somewhere else?"

"Or will he go at all?" suggested Michael. "The only thing that we know is that Bancroft is expecting his invasion. You and I both know how paranoid Bancroft is. There may be no invasion whatsoever. Bancroft could merely be using the threat of invasion to justify his army in the city in order to work against us."

"You're right, we can't discount that option either," said Victor. "It would appear though that while Belfort is occupied, we don't have many options in the city. Especially not with our current numbers."

Michael pursed his lips but said nothing more. There were only slightly less than thirty of them in total now. The majority of those thirty weren't present at the last attack, where they lost more than half other numbers. They'd managed to escape the city without being caught, but it was a far cry from their heyday before the attack, when they could count on at least one hundred of them at any given time.

"So what do we do then?" posed Victor, asking the most critical question. "We can't continue to stay at this farm. We're going to need a plan eventually."

"With Bancroft concentrating all his army in one place, it's making it exceptionally difficult for us to pick off small pieces to attack," said Michael. "Any isolated attack will be quickly met by overwhelming force, and that's where we lose whatever advantages we had."

"True but we can't continue to stay here," replied Victor. "Food is going to get hard to come by, and feeding thirty mouths while keeping our occupation here a secret will eventually be our downfall. We can't stay forever."

"No, we can't," agreed Michael. The next words caught on his tongue, never escaping his mouth. He knew they couldn't stay there forever, but where else could they go?

Until Bancroft did something with that army, there was no place for the rebels to go.

How long would they have to wait until the situation changed?

And would they be able to keep hunger at bay before it did?

*****

Back on theDestiny, Kat was making her way back to the quarters she shared with Jack and Abigail. It was early evening at that point, and she was coming back from eating a meager dinner with no plans to do anything else.

The convoy was nearly two weeks into its transit across the great ocean, and so far, there hadn't been any serious fighting. For the most part, the Western alliance had managed to evade the Javan fleet, sticking to their original plan of keeping the transports far to the north, out of the Javans' sight.

Though Kat enjoyed being at sea, she didn't enjoy the long transit across the ocean without the sight of any land. A few days of such treatment was fine, but six weeks was entirely too long to go without seeing anything but deadly warships and rippling waves. Part of her was homesick as well, wanting to go back to Galicia and her son and for this war to be over.

The worst part was that it had only barely started. She knew that the bulk of the fighting was ahead of her, and that was what scared her the most.

For that reason, Kat was in an emotional state as she got back to her quarters, but thankfully she ran into a familiar face on the way there.

"Oh, there you are, Kat," said Vera, smiling when she saw her friend and sister-in-law. "I was hoping I'd run into you."

"Were you looking for me?" asked Kat.

Vera nodded. "I just checked your quarters and only Jack was in there. He said you went off to get something to eat."

"I did, but I'm just getting back now. Did you need something in particular?"

A smile parted Vera's lips and she playfully shrugged. "Just someone to talk to really. You've always filled that particular role well for me."

Kat couldn't help but grin. "I'm always here to talk with you."

"Good, let's go down to my quarters. Greg is out with the men currently."

The two women made their way down the opposite hall to the small room that Vera shared with her husband. Upon reaching it, they both moved to sit down facing each other.