“It’s hard when things are bad, but not bad enough that you feel the immediate need to extract yourself from a situation; perhaps it’s bad, but you’re too content to uproot everything and make a change to make things better. This mindset is a trap many of us find ourselves in. Take it from me—make the change you need.”

—Philosopher Storn Konfre

Before the ship got its shot off, a glowing spear pierced the canopy from the side—the ship reared and bucked, no doubt a result of the pilot’s surprise. The lens cannon flashed, but nothing exploded.

Zaina stared in awe as Xyrthe—particle hook-gun in hand—landed atop the fighter’s canopy. She grabbed her cipher and tore it free, cracking the hyper-glass open; in a single, smooth motion, Xyrthe dropped a stun grenade into the open cockpit and plunged the spear into the ship’s nose, piercing the hull.

With both hands, Xyrthe grabbed her cipher and yanked on it, steering the fighter toward the ground; at the last second, she activated her rocket boots and grabbed the pilot by the back of the shirt. She pulled away from the ship with her captive in tow—the ship crashed into the ground, exploding in a blazing inferno as the missiles caught up to the wreckage. Xyrthe landed softly on the ground and threw her unconscious quarry into the dirt.

Zaina’s mouth was open in awe. The warsuit’s seams split open, and Fell emerged with a shocked expression. He turned to Zaina and said, “Holy shit. Does she do that often?”

Xyrthe walked toward them and rolled her eyes. “What? You had them distracted. Nothing to it.”

Fell and Zaina shared another glance. In a sheepish voice, Zaina asked, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Her mentor glared. “Don’t you two have something to talk about?”

Fell’s eyebrow rose. “Hm?”

“Two days, kid—two days.” Xyrthe turned and stormed off without another word, leaving Fell and Zaina with the unconscious woman.

“She seems pissed. What’d she mean by that?” he asked.

Zaina stared as the people of Freewater, led by Leda, emerged from their shelters and went about breaking off the freshly made glass to be repurposed and surveying the damage. Her heart ached for them—this couldn’t last much longer. Their home was slowly breaking at the seams—not like how Demelia was suddenly ripped from her.

“I—uh, I have an idea. One I need to talk to you about,” she said, unable to look him in the eyes.

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“An idea, huh?” Fell stepped out of the warsuit. “Well, I’m all ears, but before we do anything, we should deal with our friend here.”

He gestured toward the pilot, who was coming to with a groggy moan. “Huh? Where am I? Where’s the Ad Infinitum?”

“If that’s your ship,” Fell said, “it’s in a lot of places thanks to that lancer. What’s your name?”

The woman tried to stand, then winced and grabbed her shoulder. Her eyes settled in a discomforting glare on Zaina. In a low voice, the woman said, “My name is Gronda. Where’s Qendil? Is she alive?”

“Your friend? Likely not. I caught her between some high-caliber scraps and a few missiles. Guess she wasn’t as lucky as you, eh?”

Gronda spat at Fell. “You Cytomoid scum! Ondor’s gonna string you up. I asked him if I could make a belt out of your tail. And you, heretic—you’re gonna regret this. I knew you were filth the moment I laid eyes on you!”

“Right-o,” he said, then turned to Leda, who was approaching. “Deputy Longuin, would you please apprehend this—dare I say it—war criminal?”

Without hesitation, Leda shackled Gronda’s wrists together behind her back and escorted her away.

Fell shook his head. “Some people, I swear. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Zaina clasped her hands behind her back. “First off, I’m sorry for—well, yesterday,” she said.

He nodded. “No worries. This whole thing is probably a lot.”

“It is—but I think I’ve found the solution.”

“All right,” he replied.

“Well, Xyrthe asked the Order of Riiva to arrange for transport offworld for the people of Freewater.”

A suspicious expression overtook his face. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes,” she said, “and they’ll be here in two days. Hopefully it’s a ship big enough to take everyone.”

Fell scratched behind his ear. “And where will you be taking us?”

Her lips pulled into a frown.

A glint of sorrow appeared in his eyes. In a low voice, he said, “Are you sure you’ve thought this through, Zaina? I’m glad your priorities are straight, but this idea might not be a winner.”

“Well—no, I don’t know where we’ll go. Maybe the Bureau of Refugees will provide temporary housing, or the Department of Relocation—”

He shook his head. “Those things only apply to citizens of the Synatorium—and, except in extreme circumstances, which the Synatorium would never brand a situation involving Almada, they take time to apply for even if we could.”

“But—Archava was a Militarium outpost, wasn’t it? You have to be citizens!”

“The planet isn’t a Signatory. In the eyes of the Synatorium, it doesn’t even have a name,” Fell said sadly. “Nor will we find ourselves protected by their laws. We’re on our own out here.”

“Well—what about the Church of Bor? Don’t they take in refugees on Geirdel, no questions asked?”

In a low voice, he said, “Yes, I suppose they’d take us in if we could get there. Or at least the families. But—”

“Hear me out,” Zaina said. “There’s a ship coming from the Order than can get you and everyone to Geirdel. It may not be perfect, but it’ll be better than here. Look at this”—she gestured to the swathe of destruction left by the fighters’ raid—“things can’t stay like this. These people can’t stay here. Even if they weren’t being attacked every day, I mean—they can’t. I think you know that.”

Fell’s mouth fell into a deep frown as a sharp sigh left his heaving chest. His mouth opened—as if unable to answer, his eyes fell to the ground. Pain was written in every corner of his face.

“You don’t want to leave?” she asked.

He slowly sat down, crossing his legs in the sand. “It’s not that—I never thought they’d get the chance.” He bowed his head. “Thank you, Zaina.”

“Don’t thank me until it works,” she said. “There’s still some details to iron out—”

“I’m not thanking you because anything’s worked yet,” he said. “I’m thanking you because your heart’s in the right place, and it deserves to be mentioned.”