The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Eighty-Six: Back into the Desert

"Plans borne of desperation too often fall apart when met with reality."

—Admiral Friminil Yaegervox

A smile crossed Zaina's lips, and then faded. "Anyway, the ship's going to be here in two days, so we need to find a way to buy time until then. I was thinking—I mean, if you don't have any other ideas—I could take a piece of the warsuit to Ondor, make him think you and everyone else here are dead. Then, while he's orchestrating whatever comes next for Archava, you all wait it out and slip offworld unnoticed."

An amused chuckle came from Fell. "You got this all figured out as far as the escape, don't you?"

"It's risky, I know," she said, "but I really think, if I tell Ondor the right story, it'll work. That way, no more mercenaries come for Freewater, and everyone here gets a fresh start on Geirdel, or somewhere."

Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Well, I don't have any better ideas. Look, what do I have to do to make this happen?"

"I think a piece of the warsuit—something they can recognize—would be enough."

He nodded and said, "You're strong, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so, why?"

Without replying, Fell stood and pulled an elongated tool from his belt. He climbed atop the warsuit and spent a minute or two poking and prodding the suit's canopy in precise places before it slid off and dropped into the sand with a dull thud, leaving the upper-cockpit exposed.

Zaina stared at it. "The head-covering? Are you sure?"

Fell jumped down and landed without making a noise. "When we leave Archava, this suit's going to be staying here; there's no need to keep it intact if this all works. Besides, they've all gotten a good look at this."

"But if it doesn't go well, this could be a bad idea."

"Like you said," Fell replied, sorrow suffusing his gaze, "things can't stay like this. If there's even a chance this could work, it's my responsibility as warden to take that chance—and bear the brunt of the risk. Besides, the suit'll still work, and she still has more than enough weaponry to deal with Almada and his ilk if things go wrong. I'll have to be a little more careful is all. And if that doesn't work, Leda knows how to use the suit better than me—but not by as much as she's a better sniper."

Zaina was speechless. Even after how she'd acted the day before, Fell still trusted her almost instantly—she expected to have to convince him it wasn't a trap.

"If you're gonna go back to Almada," Fell said, "I'd do it quick, if possible. There're probably more mercenaries on the way. The sooner you reach him, the better the chance he calls them off. If they come here and find out your story's wrong, it could end up bad for you—I know Almada probably acted all buddy-friend, but he's ruthless when it comes down to it. You gonna pin it all on me?"

"I—uh, I don't know. I was thinking of saying the ships destroyed Freewater."

Fell rubbed his chin. "I don't know—it'd probably look better for Almada if you told him I killed everyone. At least, as far as paperwork is concerned, which hopefully, is all he cares about. Might help him sleep a little easier knowing he didn't have to fudge anything from your testimony. The last thing we want to do is give him an itch he feels he needs to scratch."

Seeing the wisdom of his thinking, Zaina nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. Are you sure, though? I mean, your name would be on all this—it'd get dragged through the mud forever."

Fell shrugged. "If it means Almada leaves us alone for two days, I'll be happy to live with a tarnished name on Geirdel. Or, more likely, under an alias. Always liked the name Jan."