“Never underestimate beginner’s luck. It’s more than luck, really, it’s intuition. Not thinking because you don’t even know the first thing to think of, you simply act, rolling the dice. And when chance is in the air, anything is anyone’s game so long as they play.”
—Creodol 867, famed Jovelian general, in his writing, On Combat, Part 7: Generational Preparation and Vigilance
Zaina stared in horror as her mentor casually walked over the dune’s peak.
That was her plan? she thought, heart pounding as she pressed her back to the dune to hide from the enemies. Still, she had to act fast—Xyrthe was in danger, and their scanner would tell them about Zaina. She’d only have the element of surprise for a little bit longer.
Captain Gilvus’s mechanical voice rang out. “Sure you’re alone out here?”
Xyrthe replied, “A-yup. Thought I could come here for an easy score.”
“Guess not.”
“Yeah, guess not.”
After a pause, Gilvus said, “A heretic, eh?”
Zaina peeked over the side of the hill again, forcing her trembling arms and legs to move. Xyrthe had reached the bottom, but none of the pirates had moved toward her. Each of them had their guns trained on her.
“Yeah,” Xyrthe said. “Not a lot of options for someone like me to live a civilized life.”
Glancing over at the transports, an idea popped into Zaina’s head; there wasn’t much time. She slid down the dune’s backside and crawled up the adjacent hill, where the ships were loitering.
Zaina reached for the grenade dispenser on her utility belt and adjusted the dial, cranking the programmed firepower of each grenade up near the highest setting. Four or five tiny explosives popped into her hand, each flashing red. Careful not to alert the pirates as they questioned Xyrthe, she poked her head over the hill and tossed the grenades down near the transports before ducking back down.
“So you’re a pirate,” Captain Gilvus said.
In a cool voice, Xyrthe replied, “Prospective, I suppose. Never really thought of myself that way. I’m not really one for labels.”
“But you’ve come here in hopes of stealing something valuable, no?”
“Girl’s gotta eat. Even a heretic like me. It’s a tough galaxy out there, you know.”
Gilvus emitted a deep, mechanical whir. “You sure you aren’t here with anyone else? We have intel that two lancers are in the area. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I’ve worked alone for as long as I can recall.”
“Well,” he replied, “I do hope you’re telling the truth, because we’re about to find out in a few seconds. Pylo!”
In a panic, Zaina clicked the button on the dispenser to activate the grenades.
“Yes, captain, there’s anoth—”
A deafening round of explosions cut him off, drowning out everything; debris catapulted over the dune, scattering the metal pieces throughout the desert. After the initial burst of sound a faint ringing clouded Zaina’s hearing, dulling the marauders’ screaming.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Now was the time. After taking a few deep breaths, Zaina summoned her white-and-green cipher and readied her hex-guard. With that she leaped over the hill and slid down the dune’s other side—the overturned transports, split open, were spewing flames and smoke into the blue desert sky.
Xyrthe had summoned her cipher and skewered two biriflers amid the confusion; the other one had dropped his weapon and was shaken up by the explosion, grabbing at his head as he writhed on the ground. The resonedge wielders were closing in on Xyrthe.
Captain Gilvus was screaming, “Close in, you idiots! There’s only two of them!”
Then, his red, mechanical eye fell on Zaina. With a growl, he drew a pistol at his side—a quick duo of metallic twangs broke out as he fired off two green bolts.
Right on time, Zaina activated her hex-guard; hexagonal links of energy appeared from a projector on her gauntlet, chaining into a barrier. The first bolt struck her guard, releasing an explosion of energy and knocking her back twenty feet; the second whizzed by inches from her face—with a dulled boom, it impacted the sand dune behind her.
Zaina rolled aside, dodging another explosive green bolt; she scrambled to stand, barely avoiding another bolt as it struck ten feet behind her, showering her face with sand and heat. She ran behind the burning transports for cover.
“Come out, little lancer!” Gilvus taunted, firing off random shots at the burning wreckage. Each impact sent fire and metal fragments into the air, scattering amongst the surrounding sand; Zaina staved it off by keeping her hex-guard above her head. “You can’t hide forever!”
Pulling out her grenade canister, Zaina programmed the next batch with a concussive stun. One dropped out, and she wrapped her palm around it—then, with a deep breath, she ran from cover, hex-guard raised toward Gilvus.
He fired off a few shots behind her, then caught on to her trajectory—his next shot hit the edge of Zaina’s hex-guard. Sharp spikes of pain tore upward from her hand as her arm stiffened with vibrations—a yelp escaped her throat, but she kept going.
Zaina tossed the grenade, landing it perfectly at Gilvus’s feet. A split second before she detonated it, he pulled a hook-gun from his waist with his opposite hand and fired at the wreckage of Xyrthe and Zaina’s desert rider. Gilvus was carried away in time to avoid the blast, scurrying atop the wreckage.
Fuck, Zaina thought. Another salvo of green bolts flew her way—she activated her rocket boots, using her hip-stabilizers to stay close to the ground as small explosions peppered the sand in her wake. A direct hit to her hex-guard knocked her off course, making her shout in pain. She tumbled and landed on her back, completely exposed to the next shot.
A triumphant grin came over the human side of Captain Gilvus’s face as his eyes settled on Zaina—time slowed as the barrel of his pistol trained on her chest, but she was frozen, hex-guard facing the wrong way, unable to move to either side in time—her eyes closed as another twang rang out.
Another muffled boom rang out behind Zaina—had he missed? As soon as she opened her eyes, her jaw fell in awe.
Xyrthe was standing on the wreckage of their desert rider, her spear piercing Gilvus’s chest; she had him raised ten feet into the air. Gripping her cipher with both hands, Xyrthe gave a mighty growl and swung downward, slamming the pirate into the sands below. Then, she leaped down from the transport’s body and stabbed through his chest again, pinning him to the ground.
Sparks erupted from the holes in Gilvus’s back, and oil spilled out and ran down the side of his torso; whirs and pops were emitted from his body as his red eye flickered. Zaina picked herself up and walked over—her entire body was sore. Her mentor was leaning down over the last survivor—pieces of the rest were strewn about, sending chills through Zaina’s chest as she approached.
“Hey, now,” Xyrthe said, tapping his face, “I need a name. Then you can die.”
“N—name?” Gilvus said, his voice now altering between high and low pitches at random.
“Who do you work for?” Xyrthe asked.
Gilvus coughed up black blood, splattering it over his face; then, in a weak voice, he said, “R—Reister—Fe—Fell—”
With that, the red light went out, and his human eye closed. Xyrthe sighed and stood up.
“You all right, kid?”
Zaina averted her gaze, staring at one of the few spots on the ground that wasn’t charred or covered in blood. “Y—yeah.”
“Hey,” Xyrthe said, tenderly placing a hand on Zaina’s shoulder. “You didn’t die, kid. You helped me distract him. That’s good enough for your first action, huh?”
“I—I guess.”
“And hey, look at the bright side. You were right about Reister Fell, looks like. His crew seems much less friendly than Ondor’s.”
Zaina nodded.
“Hey—look at me.”
Zaina’s lips twisted into a grimace as she closed her eyes and turned away.
“Come on, kid—look at me.”
Zaina’s eyes opened, and she turned toward her mentor. The seven dead pirates were behind Xyrthe, making it difficult for Zaina to maintain eye contact.
“This is the job,” Xyrthe said. “Like it or not, this is what we do. This is what ‘stopping bad guys’ looks like. What you’re feeling now is what a win feels like. Get it yet?”
A taut frown came over Zaina’s lips. She had no response.
After a sigh, Xyrthe said, “You’ll get used to it. Come on—you still want to go after Fell?”