Free Peace Army by Steven L. Hawk

there was no fixing his secret. Tane was well into his twenties when he came to terms with that fact. No amount of science, no amount of internal reflection or social retraining could change who he was and what he wanted. It was both his affliction and the reason for his gift.
    Tane could never have achieved the rank of Senior Scientist if not for his secret. The mantras that others relied upon never provided any measure of Peace. But hard work did, and Tane buried himself in his work at an early age. Those around him recognized the greatness and labeled him a uniquely driven man. What they did not know was he was driven by a need to forget his differences. It was through twenty-hour work days that he carved out his own brand of Peace, as elusive as it was.
    All of these things ran through the scientist’s mind as he watched Grant cross the room. He glanced up at Culture Leader Trevino’s face and, although she was smiling, thought he saw similar thoughts etched upon her countenance. Grant had once relayed a saying from ancient times that Tane was certain was true. It takes one to know one.
    He reached out to his Culture Leader and gave her hand an uncharacteristic squeeze. Her hand, like his, was damp with perspiration. Randalyn looked down and Tane watched as the false smile on her face was replaced by a genuine, though smaller, version.
    “It will be fine,” Tane reassured his leader. He wanted to be brave. Instead, he struggled to breathe and his heart felt twice its normal size as it hammered at his insides.
    “Or not,” she countered. Her smile withered. “Either way, it will be what it will be.” She was nothing if not brave, he thought.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Grant found Mouse outside the prison, getting ready to take his fighter on a training run. Good timing , Grant thought.
    “Colonel Mouse, a quick word?” Grant interrupted his friend as he was climbing into the cockpit. Mouse settled himself into the seat, waved away the civilian worker helping him into the carrier, and turned toward his commanding officer. Grant waited for the civilian to climb down from the ladder before ascending himself.
    “Wassup, man?” Mouse asked when Grant reached the top. Grant noted, not for the first time, that Mouse had taken on many of Grant’s verbal quirks and sayings as his own. When asked about it once by Avery, Grant overheard Mouse joking that he liked “speaking in ancient tongues.” Grant wasn’t amused, but Avery got a kick out of it. Soon after, Grant noticed Eli doing the same thing. It was cute coming from his son.
    “Hey, remember that invitation to drop by this evening after meal time? Well, I’m gonna need to rescind that offer for now.”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Yeah. There’s a Leadership Council meeting tomorrow. I’d like you to attend.”
    Mouse raised his eyebrows. “Really?” His tone expressed his surprise at the request. “Because we just ended our command meeting twenty minutes ago and nothing was mentioned about a trip to Urop. What’s come up since then?”
    Without mentioning names, Grant filled Mouse in on what he learned from his recent discussion with Tane and Culture Leader Trevino. He was unsure how Mouse might react to the situation, so he tried to be as delicate as possible.
    “Wow,” Mouse replied. A low whistle escaped his mouth as he mulled over what he had just heard. “What about Randalyn? She’s going to be at the meeting anyway. Why can’t she bring this up before the Council?”
    “Um. Well, let’s just say that that isn’t a wise move at this time.”
    Mouse stared at Grant for a few seconds. Grant knew the gears were turning in his friend’s head, and that any moment he would put the pieces—
    “Ah. I see.”
    —together.
    “Randalyn?” Mouse asked with a direct look.
    “Yep.” Grant gave a quick nod to the affirmative. “Tane, too.”
    “Well, that explains some things,” Mouse replied under his breath. He stared vacantly down the runway where the