The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Break

"Don't fuck with lancers too hard, ever. Learned that lesson in my youth. See, they try to put on a good show of being respectable, honorable warriors, but push them too far, in the wrong way, and they'll fuck you up. Let's just say I'm called, 'One-Arm' for a reason, and there's a story behind it that involves a very pissed off lancer. Everyone else who was on my ship that day is still on that ship, albeit in pieces."

—Eldibor Abscrond, famed pirate lord, in his post retirement memoir, The Other Ship: the Inner Life of Pirates as told by the Scourge of the Star-lanes

Zaina held her hands up. "You sure that thing's working? Pretty sure that bombing run did a number on Fell's hostages, too."

"Not when he ushers them into shelters," Ardual said. "The instruments are calibrated to account for user error. No, the only explanation here, is a falsehood. You're standing with them."

Sensing the situation turning against her, Zaina summoned her cipher and readied her hex-guard. There was no way out. Sweat was dripping off her face and caking all over her body as her muscles tensed. She wasn't ready for this.

The mercenaries laughed. Ardual pointed and said, "Look at the little lancer! She's gonna kill us all, all by herself. Oh, we're trembling in our boots, we are!"

A quick glance around told Zaina she wasn't getting out of this without a lot of luck. However, right when the mercenaries seemed primed to fire, another familiar voice cracked through the air.

"Stop!"

The word belonged to Ondor, who strode to the front of Ardual's rider. He stared down at Zaina, sighed, and said, "Captain Gilvus, I thought you performed your job."

"I did!" the captain shot back. "I told her it was Fell that hired me like you told me to. I don't know what she's doing here."

"Zaina," Ondor said, "why have you done this? Sided with those barbarians—do you know what you've done, how much it costs me to keep these mercenaries here another day? Why, I'm losing rebu by the second that that little village still stands."

Her last hope was that Ondor would see reason. Zaina said, "I have a way that they can leave—"

Ondor waved the idea aside. "No, I'll not hear it. I purchased this planet for my use—including everything on it not protected by Synatorium law. Those people legally belong to me, and I'll not hear otherwise."

Her eyes narrowed into a death-glare. So Fell was telling the truth. "So, what—you're going to kill them like you did everyone else?"

"At this point, yes," Ondor said, a hint of boredom in his voice. "You know, I'm disappointed. All the money I give to the Order over the years and this is the thanks I get? This is how my contributions are repaid? No wonder most of the civilized galaxy holds their little cult in such low regard." He was no longer talking to Zaina. "Gilvus, take your rider and fix your mistake—dispose of the girl. Fredan, you and your team will help him. The rest of us are heading to—what did she call it, again? Freewater?" He scoffed. "You know, I'll give it to them—they gave their pile of desert trash a fittingly poor name. Come, let's get this over with. I know some of you are itching to see your families—and after two years, I want to see the bastard dead myself."

A rowdy round of whoops and cheers erupted from the mercenaries as Ondor's desert rider, the transports, and the dreich all broke off, making for Freewater.

"No!" Zaina shouted, then raised her hex-guard right as an energy bolt closed in from above—the crushing impact sent waves of pain up her hand, through her arm, and into her shoulder and chest as she was thrown back ten feet, skidding to a halt on her back.