“Some worlds are known for their lush forests, the impressive harvests of their nutrient-dense soil, or for the special properties of their rare metals; but alas, our world is known for nothing, and is completely unremarkable.”

—Udi Olet, Vyzrian poet

Zaina stepped off the ramp of Xyrthe’s ship and took in the Deonago spaceport. It was unlike any other she’d been to—for one, it wasn’t flat; the port and the city were built in the middle of a mountain range. Steep cliffs surrounded the harbor, their walls smooth as if they’d been carved with a precise mining instrument of world-spanning size.

Circular platforms arranged in layers jutted from four tall, massively thick metal beams that seemed to descend into Vyzria like spears into flesh. The beams, along with the mountains, supported a larger platform above where cargo ships docked, their engines deafening the sky and leaving trails of thick smoke. Zaina was glad to have her lancer mask on for this one.

Immediately, heads swiveled to ogle them—two lancers dressed head-to-toe in their armor. Zaina had a feeling they’d be met with much less mistrust without their marks visible.

“Don’t get distracted, kid,” Xyrthe said. “We’re on the clock.”

“Right.”

Xyrthe pulled the coordinates to the Strato’s Office up on her vis-screen and darted off toward the spaceport’s exit, which seemed to cut straight into the heart of a mountain. People watched and whispered while they walked by. More than once Zaina heard the word ‘savior’ tossed out. While she appreciated the sentiment and hoped they were right, a drop of bitterness soured any potential gratitude; how different would their reactions be with the masks off?

Their path terminated at a lift loop—the surrounding façade was green, and the lift itself was built into the mountain. An empty tubecar, big enough for four people, awaited atop one of the stations leading into the loop.

Xyrthe sighed and stepped into the tubecar. There wasn’t much legroom—Zaina squirmed through the small doorway and more or less fell into the seat opposite her mentor. Xyrthe reached for the button to activate the tubecar.

Before she could, a shout came from outside. “Hey! Wait up! Got any room for two?”

Xyrthe turned to Zaina and whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

Zaina leaned her head out. A young Elevaran man and a very pregnant Elevaran woman greeted her. Their skin was dark gray, and their ears were wide and round; but they were otherwise humanoid.

“We saw you coming in,” the young man said. “You’re lancers, aren’t you?”

“Of course we are,” Zaina replied.

“Mind if we join you two? My wife and I have never met a lancer before—much less two!”

Zaina glanced over at Xyrthe, who was shaking her head and making threatening gestures. Then she said, “Yeah, come on in!”

Xyrthe groaned and crossed her arms. Sometimes Zaina felt good annoying her mentor—and it was so easy to do. The couple climbed into the tubecar; the man sat next to Zaina, and the woman sat next to a steaming Xyrthe. The man happily pushed the button, and the tubecar lurched into the lift loop before shuttling off.

“So,” the young woman said, “my name is Vina, and this is Mic. It’s good to meet you two.”

“I’m Zaina, and that’s Xyrthe. She doesn’t talk much, but I promise she doesn’t bite.”

Xyrthe mumbled something inaudible in response, but neither of their new friends seemed to mind.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Mic shook his head and said, “I can’t believe they called in lancers. Dirzo’s serious this time. Those filthy heretics don’t stand a chance.”

Zaina’s heart sunk. “Uh—oh, yeah.”

“That is why you’re here, right?” the man pressed. “To help us fight the enclave? What other reason would lancers have to come here?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Zaina replied. “It’s—uh—”

Xyrthe interrupted. “We’re not getting into specifics. This mission is need-to-know only.”

Zaina, torn between frustrated with Xyrthe’s rudeness and relieved to not have to answer, sighed. “Sorry about her. So, what brings you to Deonago?”

“Opportunity,” the man said. “As you can see, we’re starting a family soon.”

The woman rubbed her belly. “Less than a month away now.”

“Lord Benta has a lot of work that needs doing,” Mic continued, “and he’s paying top dollar, considering the dangers involved.”

“Oh?” Zaina replied. “What line of work you in?”

“Mercenary,” Mic answered without hesitation. “It’s not something I enjoy, but I’m pretty good at it—and it pays the bills.”

Zaina was at a loss for words. All she could muster was an awkward, “Ah.”

“Hopefully, once this is all over and Deonago is safe from the enclave, Mic will listen to me when I talk to him about switching careers,” Vina said, side-eyeing Mic.

He winced. “It’s gonna be tough, switching it up at this point. And with our incoming arrival…”

“You’re not a young man anymore.”

He sighed. “I know. One last one. That’s it. Then I’ll finally call it. We save as much as we can, maybe get a loan, and then we open up that shop you always wanted.”

Vina’s eyes lit up. “Really? You mean it?”

He shrugged. “I’m a step slower. I know that. We’ll need something to put food on the table for the little one. You’ve spent years following me, waiting on me, while I did the only thing I know how. You’ve followed me for long enough. It’s time I follow you.”

“That’s so sweet, Mic,” Vina said, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Thank you.”

“No,” he said, “thank you. And thank Byzon for you two.” He turned to Zaina. “With your help, I’m feeling pretty good on this one.”

“Glad to hear it,” Zaina said, not quite sure whether to tell him they weren’t there to help wipe out the enclave. She hoped their attitude toward heretics wasn’t the norm amongst the other settlers. Knowing her recent luck, though, it would be.

“You two all right?” Mic asked. “You seem on edge.”

Zaina chuckled. “She always seems on edge. That’s how she is.”

“And what about you?”

Zaina thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess. A little. It’s my first mission involving a heretic enclave.”

“You’ll do fine,” Mic replied. “Lancers fighting heretics—it’s the natural order. It’s the way things have always been. You’re meant to beat them—that means something.”

“Right,” Zaina replied, not wanting to inflame tensions. In her mind, Mic’s statement felt gross—like he didn’t think of heretics as living, breathing beings. Maybe the simplicity was the appeal—casting all lancers as good guys and all heretics as bad guys made the Nova Rim a little less complex and scary. In reality, most lancers Zaina had met were assholes, and most heretics she’d met were also assholes.

Then again, I haven’t met many heretics. Beni, Ovela—yeah, that’s really about it.

With a sigh she mentally shrugged the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on Mic’s careless remark. Their trip through the mountain continued in silence until their tubecar lurched to a dead stop. The speaker system made a loud ringing noise as the door popped open to usher them out.

Xyrthe didn’t need to be signaled twice, barreling free of her social prison the instant the doorway was unblocked enough to fit her armor. Zaina gestured for Mic and Vina to exit first, and they obliged. When Zaina stepped out, Mic was already leaving.

“I gotta run to the cargo jet, but I’ll meet you at the room! You get comfy and I’ll get everything set up when I get there. And it was nice meeting you two! I’ll see you soon!” With that said, he turned around and dashed toward what looked like the exit to a cave.

The other side of the lift loop was much more crystalline, with shiny, colorful stones extending from the floor and walls in patches. If she squinted, they reminded her of the wildflowers from home. They were otherwise in a cave with the lift loop entrance shoved in the back. Little natural light entered, so the ceilings were lined with small blue bulbs attached by wire.

Vina watched her husband leave and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “He’s a very sweet man.”

“Hard to imagine him at work,” Zaina said.

Vina nodded. “It’s hard on him. I know this wasn’t the life he wanted. That’s why I’m so glad you two are here.”

Zaina’s head tilted to the side. “Huh?”

“To help protect him,” she said. “I was worried about him running headfirst into a nest of heretics, but with you two there—let’s say I’m slightly less worried about his safety.”

Zaina didn’t know how to respond—it made her feel awful in a way, like a sinking pit of dread for this woman and her husband. She wasn’t necessarily there to help them.

“Sorry if that’s more pressure for you,” Vina said. “But thank you still. Take care, now—and please, watch out for Mic if you can.”

Vina hobbled off toward a sign that said, Pardenorva Exit. A smaller sign beside the path read, Deonago Proper.

Xyrthe sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”