The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Descent Continues

"Some people announce who they are; others must be discovered."

—Old Byzonian Proverb

After pushing the proper icon, Zaina gulped and turned to face Reida, who was slowly taking her armor off.

Reida stared back. "What?"

"I—I have to know something."

"Oh?" Reida's eyebrow raised. "And what's that?"

"Were you—you weren't really going to hurt his family, right?"

Reida sighed as she got the armor off, then started removing her shirt. Zaina blushed and turned away. "Come on, Zaina. Is that really how little you think of me?"

Zaina leaned against the opposite wall. "I don't know what to think right now."

"I told you things were going to get messy," Reida said. "This is what real change looks like. We have to do what we have to do."

"That's not an answer to my question," she replied, staring into Reida's eyes.

Reida sighed. "No, I was never going to hurt his family. It was an empty threat." She held up a small tube with a push-nozzle at the end and sprayed some green liquid onto her wound, wincing and giving pained groans. Then she wrapped her own shoulder with one hand, using her incapacitated arm to hold the dressings tight while she methodically maneuvered her uninjured limb to cover her wound. Once it was done, she put her shirt and armor back on. "That should do it. Why do you care so much, anyway? You don't know them."

"I don't want any innocent people getting hurt."

Reida, a little more relaxed, chuckled and said, "So sentimental. Come on, now. This is a war—and there's no such thing as 'innocents.' But no—I try to keep those who aren't directly involved out of it."

"What about Ilstevor? He didn't seem like a bad person."

"So what?" Reida shot back. "Whether he was or wasn't, he wasn't getting out of this alive."

Zaina was taken aback. "But—you told him—"

"Yeah, I lied," Reida said, rolling her eyes. "I lied about killing his family, too, didn't I? You're so naive. I would've said anything to get him to do what we needed."

Zaina didn't have a response to that. She hung her head, staring at the severed arm next to her.

"Look," Reida said, her voice softening, "I get it. You're not used to this. But we're doing this for a very good reason. It has to be done. Trust me, others have tried asking nicely, doing everything the 'right' way, and none of it worked. This is how it has to be."

"I know," Zaina said, "but it feels wrong."

"Yeah, it does. But it's all for the glorious cause. Think of all the suffering we're going to prevent—all the great works that will come of this. It's worth it, no matter what we have to do to get there. Besides, it's better than they'd have done to us. When we get captured, we get tortured, interrogated—and they get called heroes for doing it to us. But when we kill, we do it quick and clean, and they clutch their pearls in terror at the absolute horror of it all."

It was all more or less what Zaina wanted to hear—but she didn't believe Reida, despite wanting to. "One more thing—"

"So many questions with you," Reida said.

"One more. He—Ilstevor—he called you a pirate. Is that true?"

Reida frowned. "Pirate, terrorist, that's what we are to people like them. To him, it is true. Expect anyone else we encounter here to think the same of us. Why do you have so many questions, anyway? I told you what you were getting into with this."