“In outworld mining, there’s no such thing as a lost cause. The labor standards aren’t the same as in Synatorium-controlled space, so things can be played much looser on the ground with little consequence; after all, the public eye rarely reaches out all this way. With little to no overhead for labor considerations, many more avenues of returning one’s investment become available—the work, at least, can never become too expensive out here.”
—Guild Leader Gridas Gonform, in an internal memo regarding his preference for outworld projects
The night was long and without rest for Zaina. Once her watch was up she slept in fits and starts, never able to fully drift away. The situation at hand weighed too heavily on her mind and heart.
She stepped out of her tent as the sun crept over the horizon. Xyrthe had a fire going, roasting some gamba powder and water to combine them; without a word, she poured Zaina a cup and handed it to her.
A sigh escaped Zaina’s mouth as she sat across from her mentor, cross-legged in the sand. After taking her first sip of the hot gamba, she said, “Thank you.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it. You sleep all right?”
Zaina shook her head and then said, “Hey, um—I, I wanted to say, I’m sorry about yesterday. I—I really was out of line.”
Xyrthe shrugged. “There’s not really a line to be out of, per se,” she said. “There’s no code of conduct saying you can’t be an asshole. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
A half-grin spread over Zaina’s lips, then faded. “Yeah, but—I feel like I screwed up.”
“It’s your first mission. You’re going to screw up. Hell, you’re going to screw up on your hundredth mission, probably. Being a lancer doesn’t mean being perfect, or always making the right choice. Most of us do the best we can.”
After thinking on her mentor’s words, Zaina hung her head and said in a low voice, “It’s been a weird few days, hasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Xyrthe said with a chuckle. “You’ve gone from wanting a peaceful resolution to wanting to kill Fell to—well, I don’t know, where are you at now?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Ah,” Xyrthe said. “Sorting shit like this out can get really messy, you know? We’re not privy to the big picture. But it might help get your feelings straight to talk it through. So tell me what you’re thinking.”
Zaina winced, then closed her eyes and sighed. “I guess—I’m weighing everything. If Fell’s lying, that makes things a whole lot easier—he’s the bad guy in that case, and what we have to do is clear. But if Ondor is lying—if Fell really is trying to keep these people safe, what the hell do we do then? He’s got the backing of the Synatorium.”
“Well,” Xyrthe replied, her tone laced with sorrow, “if you’re asking what I think—I think, if Ondor’s lying, we should stay out of it. Whether today, tomorrow—a year from now, or ten—these people are doomed. Even if Ondor pulls out, some other asshole will come in and finish what he started. We could put our necks on the line for Freewater, but what would come of it? Either we win and these people are still living on a planet slated for destruction, or we lose and end up corpses on a forgotten world, unable to help the galaxy further. It might not be worth the risk. It’s shitty to have to think about things in terms of practicality like that, but it is what it is.”
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Silence fell over them for a minute as Zaina pondered her mentor’s words.
Xyrthe continued, “You know what I think your problem is right now? You’re looking for the happy ending where the bad guy loses and the good guy wins. But that’s not what’s going to happen here. Someone has to lose, and the deck’s stacked in Ondor’s favor. I don’t think we can fix that.”
Zaina shook her head and replied, “I—I don’t think it’s that. You’re right—Freewater is pretty much doomed no matter what we do. But—I don’t know. It’s not the town itself being destroyed that’s bothering me, it’s the people. None of them deserve this. I wish there was a way we could help them.”
Xyrthe shrugged. “Like I said, there’s not much we can do. Sometimes it comes down to wrong place, wrong time. It did for your world.”
“Yes, but not for its people,” Zaina said. Demelia had been evacuated by the Order and the Synatorium—
Suddenly, an idea popped into Zaina’s head. She stood up and spread her arms out, her voice rising to an excited pitch as she said, “That’s it!”
“Huh?” Xyrthe asked.
Pointing a finger to the sky and pacing, Zaina said, “Well, think about it! Fell said the reason no one took Ondor’s offer was because it was hardly an offer at all. It was basically indentured servitude. But if we could maybe get them a better offer from somewhere else—maybe the Order can kick in one of their spare ships—then we’d have a chance at saving them all! And plus, if we find a better offer and Fell rejects it, we know he’s keeping the people here intentionally!”
Xyrthe leaned back. “That’s an interesting idea, but I’ve already noticed some holes. It could take days for even a single rescue ship to get supplied and make its way out here, and that’s assuming the Order is willing to send one. That gives Ondor plenty of time to make his move, and he said he’s going for a final push. It may be too late, Zaina.”
“But what if it isn’t?” she replied. “No, think about it—we can tell Ondor we killed Fell, then sneak the people offworld! It’s not like the planet’s going to be strip-mined in a day, right? Ondor has to get all his equipment here and set up, too.”
“And what if Ondor really wants the people of Freewater, too?” Xyrthe asked. “They usually rely on native labor for these sorts of things.”
“We play into his story. We tell him that Fell had slaughtered the entire town as soon as we showed up.”
Her mentor shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t work. You think Ondor wouldn’t send someone to be sure his assets were secured? Or run a fucking bio-scan? He didn’t seem like the type to take our word for it when it comes to business.”
Zaina rubbed her chin and said, “So what if we get Fell to agree to give us part of the warsuit? We can take it to him as proof. He’d have no reason to waste the effort. That buys us the time we need.”
“Yeah, so long as Ondor doesn’t double-check our work on the most important investment of his life. Come on, Zaina—I know it’s hard to accept when you have to stare people in the eyes and know they’re beyond saving, but you can’t lie and game other people out of their fates—even if they’re suffering. We’d have a better chance of storming Ondor’s personal cruiser and ferrying them away on that.”
Zaina’s head tilted as she mulled the idea over.
Disbelief came over Xyrthe’s face as she said, “What—you’re not seriously considering that, are you? My point was that helping these people is basically suicide, not that we need another angle on it!”
“I’m trying to consider all of our options! It’s not just our lives depending on it, you know,” Zaina shot back. “I think we should at least talk it over with Fell. If he likes the idea, he might have a way to help us get the people of Freewater offworld.”
Throwing her hands up, Xyrthe replied, “And where the hell are we going to put them? Do you know how expensive it is to resettle people, how many supplies they need? This is exactly why I warned you to turn off the tap—to not get attached.”
Zaina’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “So there is a price tag on people’s lives—you sound like Ondor right now.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Xyrthe said. “You know what? Go talk to Fell alone. Play this how you want to, but I want no part of it.”