Hunter
Back aboard the ship, Hunter set course for the Queen’s palace on their homeworld of Elurrah. They’d hardly said anything since finding the device. On their way out of the library, Snow had stopped long enough to give Molly a hug and thank her for her help before she wrapped the shawl around her to face Givva City again.
By that time of the night, the only people wandering the city streets belonged to the Queen’s Guard. Thankfully, they retraced their path from earlier and found no one to stop them.
“So what’s the plan?” Hunter asked finally, the purple mists of Givva slipping away as they hurtled through the atmosphere towards their destiny.
Snow turned the rings over in her hand again and again, their rhythmic clinking as constant as the hum from the ship’s engines.
“I need to call Beaver,” she said suddenly, her face determined.
“I can’t get off the ship for you to talk to him,” Hunter said, casting a sideways glance toward her.
“He’ll deal with it,” she said, placing the call. It connected quickly, the man Hunter only vaguely remembered appearing on the screen.
“Snow! How are things?”
She didn’t seem to have the time or patience for his pleasantries. “We have the means of disabling the chips,” she said without fanfare.
“Ah! I thought you must be getting close with the effort she’s making to discredit you.”
Snow nodded. “I’m going to need that help you offered.”
His brows shot up. “Oh?”
“We’re going to storm the palace—”
“What?” Hunter hissed. “That’s your plan?” Was she out of her mind? There had to be a better way.
She ignored him. “We need all the people you’ve got. Even better if they can rally support on Elurrah. We need to overwhelm the Guard so I can get close enough to the Queen to activate the device. After that, she’ll have no hold on anyone in the Empire and I can reclaim my throne.”
Beaver nodded sagely, stroking his beard. “And what about my people? Our cause?”
“There will be a place for you amongst my advisors. The Empire will need rebuilding. It won’t be the Empire of my parents. I’ll need your help making it great again.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “The family resemblance grows stronger every day,” he said without explanation.
Snow seemed to not notice the comment, but Hunter did. And he knew what Beaver meant. This was not the same girl so unsure of herself that he’d met so long ago. This was a woman on a mission, refusing to be deterred.
“Well?” she prompted.
“It will take time to get my people there,” he said.
“We don’t have much. It’s afternoon there now, we’ll arrive by nightfall. We make our move tomorrow morning.”
“Very well, you have my support Princess,” said Beaver, the last word hanging heavily between them. Hunter didn’t think that the rebels acknowledged the prestige of royalty, so using her honorific was purely a show of respect. “There’s a place I stay on Elurrah, owned by people sympathetic to the cause. I’ll give them a call. They’ll give you a place to stay and gather the troops.”
“Thank you,” she said with a stiff nod.
“Until tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow,” she repeated. The call died and Hunter leaned back in his chair with a low whistle, eying her appreciatively.
“What?” she snapped, her posture stiff, still in business-mode.
“Oh nothing…” he said, his voice sing-songy.
She narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms. “Hunter…”
“It’s just that… For someone who doesn’t think of herself as much of a leader, you’re certainly not having any trouble taking charge now.”
“So? Being a leader is what I was born to do. It’s what I’ve been trained for my whole life. It’s what all of this—” Before she finished her sentence, Hunter leaped from his chair and closed the distance, cutting her off with a kiss. The argument died on her lips and she melted into him.
“All I’m saying is it looks good on you, Princess.”
She smiled, heat flooding her face. “Oh… Well… Thank you.”
He stepped away and took his seat again, this time moving closer to her, reaching for her hand.
She didn’t take it, instead turning the rings over in her hand again. She held one out to Hunter. Her father’s. A simple platinum band without any inscriptions.
“I want you to have this,” she said, light glinting off the edge of the ring as she pushed it closer to him.
“Snow… I couldn’t… You should have them, they belonged to your parents.”
“Then give it back to me when this is all said and done. My father wore this into battle, it seems only appropriate that you have it now. You’re defending the future of the Empire as much as he was then.”
He swallowed, his hand trembling slightly as he took the ring from her and slipped it on his finger. It felt warm there, almost hot. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to give it back to her.
“So… storming the palace?” he asked, skeptical.
She nodded. “It’s time I face her. No more hiding, no more attacks from afar. One way or another, this ends tomorrow.” It seemed she was taking his pep talk to heart and trusting herself.
He only hoped her plan was good enough.
By the time they’d gotten to Elurrah, the word had gotten out. Something big was happening and the people were restless. Hunter was used to a more subdued, somber mood in the capital city, but this time there was music filtering from drinking houses, there were people in the streets, clustered together, excitedly whispering to one another.
He might go so far as to call the place festive.
“So much for keeping things quiet,” Hunter muttered under his breath. Snow walked at his side, her shawl pulled close. It wouldn’t do to have their cover blown at this point.
“At least they’re happy about the change?” she said, sounding unsure.
“Who wouldn’t be?”
She looked down to the pavement and a pang of guilt lanced through Hunter. It wasn’t her fault they were being foolish. But the Queen would know something was happening. It would be impossible to sneak up on her with all of this going on. She wasn’t stupid.
The place Beaver recommended was called the Rusty Brew. How they managed any business with a name like that was a mystery.
But the couple that greeted them were friendly enough. Both stout, plump, and cheerful.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” the woman said, her thinning golden hair like spun sugar on her head. “Wasn’t sure when you’d show up, but we got a couple rooms ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Snow said, dipping her head.
The main entry way had a staircase to the left, with a hand-lettered sign that said ‘Rooms’ with an arrow pointing up. Beyond the front desk, there was a double door that led into a bar, where even through the glass, Hunter could hear the raucous carousing going on.
“Everyone’s a bit excitable,” the woman said apologetically to Hunter’s sneer towards the door.
“Not every day you get to be a part of history!” her husband chimed in.
“We hope you’ll join us in celebrating?” she asked.
Snow hesitated, her eyes going to the double doors and then to the stairs. Crowds; she always seemed nervous about them. Hunter stepped forward.
“It’s a little early to be celebrating, don’t you think?”
Snow looked back toward the door, lowered her shawl and smiled at the couple. “I’d love to join you.”
Hunter’s jaw went slack and he stared at her like she’d grown another head. But the Princess turned to him, a playful twinkle in her eye, and shrugged. “I could use a little celebration. And I’m sure they want to hear from me.”
“Oh! They definitely do,” the older woman said, grabbing Snow by the arm and leading her to the doors. “Tanna, by the way, pleasure to meet you Your Highness.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Snow said, dipping her head.
Hunter watched them both walk through the door and stayed behind, still marveling at the woman she’d become over the past few weeks. Despite all her doubts and setbacks, watching her mingle with the crowd, she looked pretty confident.
Someone said something to her and her face lit up, her hand covering her mouth to hide her laughter. When he’d met her, he couldn’t even get her to crack a smile. Was it wrong of him to think he’d had some effect on that change in her?
“You know her, then? The Princess?” the man asked, still manning the front desk.
Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“Seems like our prayers have been answered, eh? Never expected her to be alive after all this time.”
He spared another look back to Snow. Now she was on top of a table, the whole rowdy bar quietly watching her with rapt attention. Her face was serious, clearly passionate, and that look of steely determination that was so familiar to him now glinted in her eyes.
“No one should underestimate her,” he said. But even as he said it, he couldn’t help thinking of their plan for tomorrow and all the things that could go wrong. All the things she was hoping would just work out for them.
He knew it couldn’t be that easy.
“Which room is mine?” he asked.
“Up, to the right. Number four. You’re not gonna join the party?”
Hunter shook his head. “There will be plenty more after tomorrow.” He just probably wouldn’t be going to any of them, either.
He stayed in his room all night. It was simply furnished — a bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser he had no use for, and a vidscreen with nothing interesting on. Half the channels had been taken over by the Queen’s propaganda machine. The other half were airing things that seemed so inconsequential and trite after all they’d been through. What use did he have for fashion advice or gossip?
The questions plaguing him couldn’t be answered by a vidscreen.
Eventually he dozed off, still lying upright with his shoes and the lamp on. A soft knock on his door woke him.
“Hunter?” Snow’s voice came through.
He rubbed his eyes before answering it.
“Hi,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “You never came down.”
“Not quite in the celebrating mood,” he said, his grip on the door tightening.
She looked down, almost embarrassed. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t really either but… you know…”
“Being a good leader and rallying the troops?” he teased.
She offered a lopsided smile. “Something like that. Can I come in?” She wavered on her feet and Hunter realized that flush was from drinking.
“Didn’t they give you a room?”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. “Yeah… It’s just… lonely without you,” she looked down again.
Hunter sucked in a deep breath. He thought if he distanced himself from her, it would make what had to happen in the morning easier. He thought he could pretend that he wasn’t conflicted about it.
But with her at his doorstep, he couldn’t deny that he wanted — needed — this one last night with her.
“I was just sleeping,” he said. “I won’t be very good company.” Even as he said that, he stepped aside to let her in, closing the door behind her.
“You were sleeping in your shoes?” she asked with an incredulous giggle.
“Old habits.” He shrugged. “When you need to get up and leave somewhere in a hurry, it’s best not to have to stop to put your shoes on.”
“Were you planning on running away in the middle of the night?” She was teasing him again, but it struck too close to home. She yawned, pulling off her shoes and outer layers before snuggling in under the blankets.
He never answered her.
She pulled the quilt back and patted the spot on the bed next to her. “Lay down with me. I sleep better when you’re there.”
His throat tightened, but he did as she asked. Immediately, she curled up against his side, the most exquisite kind of torture he’d ever had to endure. Slowly, he slipped an arm around her shoulder and held her close, silently apologizing for what he was planning.
“Hunter?” she murmured sleepily, reaching behind her to turn off the lamp.
“Hmm?”
“Take off your shoes.”
He slept only briefly, but lay there for hours just holding Snow, stroking her hair, listening to her breathe. What could their life together have been like if things were different? If the world they lived in was different?
It served no purpose to sit and wonder about it. Things were the way they were and they couldn’t be changed. Sure, Snow could change the world, she could set the Empire back to rights, but he wouldn’t be there to see it.
There was no way to get through this day without the Queen detonating the chip in his heart. The least he could do was choose how he went out.
As the horizon turned from black to deep blue, Hunter extracted himself from Snow’s grip. She muttered something in her sleep and he pulled the blankets up over her shoulder, placing a kiss on her temple before slipping back into his shoes. She’d be up at dawn and he needed to be long gone by then.
The door closed silently behind him and he made his way down the darkened corridor, the whole place still sleeping off the night before.
No one waited for him at the front desk and he slipped out of the Rusty Brew without seeing another soul.
On the deserted street of the capital city, he pulled out his communicator and sent the Queen a message: I’m on my way.