“Rebellions and the underworld—where you find one, you’ll find the other.”

—Donzaro Frabadian, Director of Legal Enforcement of the Alliance of Worlds

The young woman nodded and made for the end of the alleyway. They sneaked through twists and turns, avoiding attention from stray passersby, none of whom seemed to care. Zaina stayed close to the stranger—the last thing she needed was to get lost.

“So.” The young woman turned back and said, “you got a name, partner?”

“I’m Zaina. Zaina Quin, from Demelia.”

“Ah, right on. Well, I’m Reida. Reida Qarys. It’s good to meet you, Zaina. I’m glad you found your way to my corner of the Nova Rim.”

Zaina wasn’t used to getting compliments—to people her age liking her. Back home, especially at school in Ryrda, she never had many friends. She blushed, and her mind blanked. She changed the subject. “So, where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can talk in private,” Reida said. “Where none of that bastard Bilvane’s androids can hear or see us.”

Sounded good enough. They kept going through the alleys until they came to a dead end. Reida pulled a hook-gun from her belt and aimed it at the roof—with a clunk, the tracking tip lodged into the side of the concrete wall.

She’s a good shot.

Reida extended a hand toward Zaina. “Going up.”

Zaina walked over and grabbed it. Reida pushed a button, and the hook-gun carried them both to the edge of the roof. With a grunt, Zaina climbed up and over and helped Reida up.

Once Zaina took in the view, her jaw dropped. It reminded her of her favorite spot back home, where she watched ships depart from Ryrda; here, the entire city opened up. The low, neon lights and signs extended in every direction, mixing into a fusion of ever-changing pastels.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“From a distance,” Reida replied. She leaned over the edge of the roof. “But the closer you look, the uglier it gets.”

Zaina stared at the stranger, who was illuminated in the multicolored glow of Otmonzas. “So—where’d you learn how to shoot like that?”

Reida shrugged. “Been doing it all my life. Had to learn quick.” She turned to face Zaina—half of Reida’s face was steeped in a gentle blue glow, and the other half was covered in dark, pulsing red. “Thanks again for saving me back there. Not many people would do something like that these days.”

“Don’t mention it,” Zaina said, waving aside the compliment.

“No, I mean it. You saw everyone else walk by. But thanks to you, I’m free.”

Zaina nodded. “Well, don’t worry about it. I want to help people. Plenty of people have helped me in getting here.”

Reida chuckled. “Not sure I’d call that help.”

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“You know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Reida said. “I don’t know. To be honest, I’m not used to people jumping in on my side. I guess people like me don’t get helped very often.”

“Well,” Zaina said, “you don’t seem so bad to me.”

Reida’s green eyes pierced Zaina, making her knees weak—it wasn’t a feeling she was used to. Then Reida said, “You said you want to be a lancer?”

“Yeah—I got shot down on my way to Kaado. Luckily I was close enough to crash-land here.”

“Shot down?” Reida asked. “What happened there?”

“Pirates,” Zaina said. “The Otmonzas defense forces came and drove them off before anything too serious happened, but it was still really scary. My first time in a ship, and I get attacked by pirates.”

“Yeah, damn pirates are everywhere these days.” Reida shook her head. “Still, it’s hard to hear. You seem like a really nice person. I’m not sure why you’d want to join up with them.”

“Huh?”

Reida shrugged. “I haven’t had any good experiences with lancers. Hell, I’m having problems with one right now. Bilvane—”

“I’ve heard that name a lot,” Zaina said. “Who is that? Does he control the androids?”

“He controls everything. Goris Bilvane. The head of security forces. Pretty brutal guy. There’s a growing rebellion against him, the Angels of Otmonzas.”

Zaina looked Reida up and down. Having been trained to fight since she was very young, Zaina’s instincts to assess what she had seen kicked in. The armor, the security droids attacking her… Of course. It all made sense.

“You’re one of them,” Zaina said. “One of the rebels—aren’t you?”

Reida’s eyes widened—then a charming smirk took over. “Damn, I gave it away, did I? I never was a good liar.”

“Wow,” Zaina said. “You’re so brave! I don’t think I could ever do what you do.”

“Why not?” Reida asked. “Anyone can stand up for the right thing. All it takes it a little courage. That’s why I think it’s so weird you want to be a lancer.”

“Hm?”

“Well, you seem really brave. And you say you want to help people.”

Zaina’s head tilted. “Aren’t both of those things needed to be a lancer?”

Reida sighed. “Maybe in the stories, yes. But in real life, lancers work for people like Bilvane. There’s one working for him right now—a vicious killer. A real piece of shit.”

That didn’t make sense. Lancers were supposed to help people suffering under oppressive regimes, not help the regimes. Everything on Otmonzas was backward. “But—how?”

“The Order’s got mouths to feed, like everyone else,” Reida said. “At least, I’d assume so. I don’t know if lancers need to eat or not.”

“Well, I still get hungry.”

“Either way,” Reida said, “they sell their services to the highest bidder. Whatever glamor or glory the Order of Riiva used to have in the Nova Rim, it’s gone. They’re little more than a group of mercenaries. Dogs for the Synatorium.”

That didn’t sit right with Zaina. Gir hadn’t seemed loyal to the Synatorium at all. He didn’t seem to care one way or the other—he only wanted to help, and the Order sent him all the way to Demelia to do so. “But—there’s still good lancers out there. I’ve met one.”

“Good, bad,” Reida replied, “it all depends what side you’re on. You know what your problem is?”

“Huh?” This woman barely knew Zaina—she couldn’t possibly understand her.

“You’re looking at it in terms of definitions. In your head, ‘lancer’ means ‘good.’ Anyone standing against them must be ‘bad’ by definition. But it isn’t that simple. I’m sure there are good lancers. But overall, they side with the people that have money—with the Bilvanes of the galaxy.”

“What’s so bad about him?”

Reida frowned. “Bilvane’s been up to no good for a long time. He loves to preach about his humble origins as a roboticist—but he’ll never tell you how many people his androids have killed. When the government gave him a security contract, he built a private army. Used his network of surveillance to spy on competitors—now they’re all dead or paupers.”

“So he controls the entire planet’s security?”

“He controls everything,” Reida said, then nodded toward a tall, black building towering into the night skies—the billboards and signs were sparse on its walls, and there were no lights otherwise. “From right in there.”

Zaina squinted to get a better view—dense fog obscured the skyscraper’s edges, making it appear as a hulking, shrouded obelisk in the night.

“You want to see where all of the hardworking people’s money goes, it’s right there. That tower is a fortress—it’s got cameras everywhere, security sensors on all the ports and vent exhausts, guards at every entrance and exit—everything you can think of. Including that lancer.”

“So—what are you going to do? How can you win this fight?”

Reida smiled. “My captain has a plan for that. What, you interested in helping out? We could use some extra muscle—and you’ve got more than enough for what we need.”