Chapter: The Breakoff
“People? People don’t change. They’ll pretend if they need to, if there’s something they want, but deep down they’re still the same. No more can a person alter their fundamental being, than a limphor could swap its coat with a sibling.”
—Novelist Frydik Vantoori, in the narration of his novel The Ace of Kolagera
Zaina cursed at herself while running full speed through the forest. She knew Reida was up to no good—why hadn’t she listened to her gut? She’d gotten so excited about getting off Diraxus, about getting Gizmo fixed, that she’d let her guard down and tried to be helpful—and that was the exact thing Reida had been waiting for.
This wasn’t going to be like last time, though—this time Zaina was a lancer, and this time Reida wasn’t getting away.
The forest whizzed by, but there was something strange up ahead—it looked like Baeus’s hover-bed, but it was on its side, tipped over into the mud. She gasped upon getting close enough to realize that was exactly what it was.
She ran and turned it right-side up—and gave a deep sigh of relief as Baeus, a frightened expression on his face, said, “Zaina?”
“Oh, thank Byzon you’re alive,” she said, pulling the hover-bed close to her chest. “I thought she killed you.”
“No, but she has Kazlo! Go—my pod will reset itself! Go! There’s still time!”
She set Gizmo down beside the scholar. “Watch him.”
Zaina resumed her high-speed spring toward the landing zone, filled anew with fury. How dare Reida treat her friend like that!
Curiously, the ship was holding position overhead. Once Zaina broke into the clearing she saw why.
There, Reida was standing watch, scrapshot at the ready, while two pirates in makeshift armor loaded an unconscious Kazlo into Baeus and Zaina’s ship, which was already turned on. Reida frowned the second she laid eyes on Zaina and quickly darted inside.
Zaina broke into a full sprint while the ship pulled away from the metal landing platform. It was a moment from taking off when Zaina laid her prosthetic hand on it, grabbing one of the still-engaged landing prongs. Her weight was enough to bob the ship so that Zaina’s boots touched the ground—she then activated the magnetic function on them, adhering herself to the landing pad.
Every muscle in Zaina’s torso and legs tightened. It took every ounce of her strength to hold the ship in place while its engines squealed and groaned. Zaina strained, gritting her teeth.
“Reida, stop!” she shouted.
The engines roared, and the ship nearly escaped Zaina’s grasp. She tightened her grip, bearing her teeth as her entire body tensed, summoning more physical strength than ever before. The ship started to rock from side to side, trying to loosen her hand, but Zaina remained firm.
Through gritted teeth she spat, “I’m—not—letting—go!”
With her spare hand she grabbed her particle hook-gun and shot the tracking tip directly into the ship’s belly. It wasn’t much of a plan, but she needed to do something—trying to hold the ship in place was a losing battle.
Baeus broke through the treeline. “Zaina! What are you doing? Are you insane?”
She kept her grip tight. “Can’t—let her—get away!”
“You have to let go, Zaina!”
“NO!” she shouted. A guttural shriek exploded from her chest while she strained to keep Reida from escaping.
———
Reida calmly sat in the cockpit of the Order of Riiva’s ship, watching a sensor display Zaina’s inhuman effort.
She really is strong. That’s some crazy shit.
She shook her head—all that power, and Zaina was wasting it. It made her a bit sad to think about. If only she’d played things a little smoother the first time, Zaina may have made a great pirate.
Amook’s voice came over the speaker. “We’ve got sights. Taking the shot.”
“No,” she said before thinking.
Reida glanced one more time at the lancer. Why did it matter so much to her?
I thought she’d be happy to see me go. I even left her a little gift since I didn’t mention I’d be taking her ship.
She sighed and replied, “Don’t bother wasting the ammunition.”
Reida clicked a button on her vis-screen, cutting out the comms for a moment. She placed a hand on the ship’s throttle, only one-third of the way engaged, and said, “Goodbye, Zaina Quin.”
———
Zaina’s entire body screamed with pain. How she was still holding on was beyond her—sweat flowed freely into her eyes and off her face. The heat coming off the ship’s engine was excruciating, and her shoulder felt like it was about to separate.
The roar of the ship’s engine was deafening, and its heat grew more intense. Zaina did the only thing she could—shouted and held on like her life depended on it. The engine was starting to flicker and flare—something had to give, and soon. Her metal fingers dug into the landing gear, cracking and warping it.
And then something did give: with a horrific metal snap, Zaina’s prosthetic arm snapped off at the joint. The ship lurched and pulled away with her grip still on it. Zaina yelped and nearly fell backwards—only the magnetic lock on her boots kept her upright.
It took a moment to really register what had happened.
No!
She aimed the particle hook-gun but it was already too late—Reida had docked on the larger ship. If Zaina pulled the trigger now she’d probably splatter against the bay doors. Her aim lowered, and once the barrel of her hook-gun was pointed at the ground she dropped it. Then she ceased the magnetic lock and fell to her knees. There was nothing she could do but watch.
Reida’s ship continued its ascent, this time faster, and within seconds it disappeared in the sky. Zaina punched the ground. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”
Tears were flowing from her eyes now. “It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my damn fault!” Then, in barely a whisper, she said, “I’m sorry, Kazlo—I’m sorry, Gir.”
Something lightly bumped her back. She turned to face Baeus, whose expression was sorrowful. “It’s all my fault,” she said.
He lowered his hover-bed to the ground next to her and leaned against her shoulder.
She kept on crying. “It’s all my fault. I should have known, I should have—it’s all my fault. Everything, it’s—it’s all my fault.”
Gizmo, now out of low-power mode, floated into Zaina’s lap. “Hello, Master Zaina. How can I be of assistance?”
“Huh?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“You are showing signs of sadness. Is there anything I can do to alleviate these symptoms?”
She sniffed and said, “I’m sorry, buddy. Looks like we’re not getting you fixed after all.”
In all her life Zaina had never failed at something so utterly and miserably. Reida had stolen her ship, kidnapped Kazlo, and left both of them stranded. There was nothing to do but contact the Order and go back home licking their wounds.
“Well,” Baeus said, “about that—”
Zaina’s head snapped toward him. “Huh?”
“We do still have the coordinates. Reida made sure of that before she took him.”
“What? She—what?”
“She made Kazlo take off his vis-screen,” Baeus said. “I can’t really explain why. She also told me to tell you that she’s sorry.”
Zaina shook her head. The sorrow and despair had quickly converted into anger at Reida. “Yeah—yeah, she always is.”
“For what it’s worth,” Baeus said, “she had me fooled, too.”
“She’s good at that.” Zaina sighed. “What are we going to tell the Order when they pick us up? We still have to make another stop.”
“Well—I think I have a solution to that, too,” Baeus replied.
“Oh?”
“Well, I probably made enough in winnings to buy a ship. Technically I qualified for clan treasurer, but I doubt I’d be able to effectively balance that with my duties back at the Order.”
Zaina reached over and wrapped her arm around his hover-bed. “Oh, you genius!”
“I thought I had a gambling problem,” he said.
“Yeah, you still do,” Zaina said. “But just this once it worked out. Come on, let’s go!”
She stood up and stared at the sky once more. I’m sorry, Kazlo. But if what Gizmo’s hiding is as important as I think it is, I have to keep going.
Her mind back on the mission, she turned to Rafol with Baeus and Gizmo at her side. Last time Reida had betrayed her, Zaina had been left alone. It was amazing how much could change in such a short time.
They made their way back to Rafol, where an elderly male Raolgrian greeted them. “Heard there was a dustup in the LZ. Everyone’s ships still there?”
Zaina rolled her eyes. “All of ‘em except ours.”
“Oh, good,” he said. “So what are you here for, then?”
Baeus floated forward and said, “We’re here to buy a ship.”
“The clan doesn’t sell ships,” the man replied. “What, is your fancy Order too cheap to give you a ride?”
“No, but—”
“Then what are you asking us for?”
Another Raolgrian approached, this one a younger male dressed in shiny green robes that contrasted beautifully with his maroon-scaled skin. He turned to Baeus and nodded his head. “Welcome back, far-traveler. Have you reconsidered being our clan’s treasurer?”
“Thank you, Girifraxis,” Baeus replied. “And no—unfortunately, that’s not the reason I am here. I was hoping to purchase a ship. You know how much I won—I’d be willing to trade it all, minus my initial investment plus the cost of the Order’s ship.”
Girifraxis rubbed his chin. “Your entire pot, more or less, for a ship?”
“I think it’s more than a fair price.”
“It is quite generous,” the Raolgrian agreed. He turned to the elderly Raolgrian and said something in Gashh. The elder replied angrily before storming off.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Baeus said. “I heard of your victory. I think you’ll be a fine Clan Head.”
“Thank you,” Girifraxis said. “Hopefully we can restore some common sense to the clan. I think it’s been missing for too long. Ah! Here comes Gili.”
The elder returned with a keychip and slapped it into Girifraxis’s hand.
“This,” Girifraxis said as he handed it to Zaina, “was supposed to be Girxorgian’s ship when he was Clan Head. Since he chose your Order over his family, I suppose it only makes sense it should go to you. Do what you can to keep his spirit alive—he will be forgotten here. We cannot afford to live in the past.”
Zaina was unsure of how to respond—part of her was appalled at the callousness of the clan toward Gir, but part of her was honored that she’d be receiving Gir’s ship. Perhaps it was best to accept it and move on. She grabbed the keychip and put it in her pocket—and then curiosity took over.
“I have to know,” she said, “why don’t you want the ship?”
The Raolgrian shrugged. “The clan needs money. Plus, that model’s ten years old by now—but your friend’s winnings will certainly afford me a newer, better transport.”
“Ah,” Zaina said. “Right.”
“Travel safe,” Girifraxis said. “And you are welcome back anytime.”
“Until next time,” Baeus said.
Then they turned and left Rafol. Zaina wasn’t sure she ever wanted to return—Gir had clearly been the best of his family.
Gir’s ship was made of a strange, tan metal with green accents designed to look like ornate leaves. It was flat and wide and in the shape of a semi-circle with hyper-glass panels on the front. Two gun barrels rested on either side of the nose, and the landing gear was made of metal strips woven together to resemble runes. Large, knife-like wings stuck out from either side of the body, an unusual sight for ships in the Nova Rim.
Zaina crossed her arms. “Are we sure this thing is spaceworthy? It looks ancient.”
“We’ll run a diagnostic before we get going, but it should be,” Baeus replied. “Raolgrian widewings are known for their reliability. And sometimes for exploding, but that’s pretty rare.”
She shook her head—not exactly a comfort. Then again, if one wanted comfort, space seemed about the worst place to seek it out. “All right, well—let’s not waste any time, then.”