Part of A Lantern in the Void
Zoya couldn’t sleep, thinking of the scene at the plaza, and their subsequent emergency shift at the hospital. It was a mess. Lux, the nurses, everyone was reeling from the massacre. It was a point of no return: those who lived would have to deal with a brand new world, with new rules and expectations, and it was dawning on everyone that things were only going to get harder from here.
“It’s not your fault, Zoya,” their brother’s familiar voice hummed in the darkness as the healer stared up at their ceiling. They really wanted to believe his words, but they just couldn’t.
“I shouldn’t have trusted her. I could’ve prevented this if I’d made a different choice back then.” They felt another round of tears welling up in their already-puffy eyes. How many times was that tonight, anyway? They’d lost track.
“There was no way you could know it would lead to this, and you made the choice that made sense to keep everyone safe back then. You saved a lot of people by giving them a reason to actually go in there like that.” The faint ghostly light flickered with each word, casting faint shadows across the room.
It was late in the night when there was a knock on the door. It took a couple of minutes for Zoya to decide to stop ignoring it, as it got more and more insistent. They didn’t want to have to do this. Not right now.
Finally, they unlocked the door and swung it open. Sage stood there, as if she’d lost all the determination that kept knocking now that she realized what she had to face. She just looked at Zoya, trying to find the words.
She eventually broke the silence, “I resigned.”
Zoya didn’t respond. They weren’t sure how to process that.
“I never intended that to happen. I didn’t order them to do that. I know I’m responsible, but I just wanted you to know that’s the last thing I wanted to happen. I’m so sorry, Zoya.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She was soaked from head to toe from the rain outside, and her voice quivered as she spoke from the coolness of a rainy night. A small pool of water collected at Zoya’s entryway.
“Walking away won’t fix it.” Zoya said, bluntly, cutting into the long silence that had fallen between them.
“I know.”
“No one on this side is just going to forgive you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not just going to forgive you.”
Sage paused for a while, looking between Zoya’s eyes.
“I know.”
Zoya went quiet again, stepping closer and looking Sage straight in her eyes. Did she really understand the gravity of what had happened, her role in it, the implications? Could Zoya ever trust her again?
“What are you going to do now?”
Sage shook her head, “I don’t know. But this is my home, too. I wasn’t sure about resigning because this is my home, I grew up here, and I know that anyone they bring in to replace me is going to be an offworlder who’s not going to give half a shit about the people here and…” they trailed off, taking a moment to find their words before finishing, “I learned today that I can’t stop it by being one of them. I can’t try and be the good guy when the organization itself is corrupt. It’ll just drag me down with it, like it did today. It’s too sick to get fixed from within.”
Seeing a glimmer of hope, Zoya reached for Sage’s hand. Their fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Come get yourself dried up.”
Sage looked down and nodded, then stepped in as Zoya helped her peel off the soaked uniform. It still smelled like gunpowder.
Some time later, as they lay in bed with their bodies close together to keep away the chill of the night, beads of sweat still sticking to their skin, Sage reached over to the bedside table and picked up her black knife, unsheathing it and pressing the flat of the blade against her palm. As Zoya looked up, she closed her eyes and spoke the words that would seal their future, “I vow to you upon this blade that I will free Florin—and all of Beryl—from the Wrights, if it’s the last thing I do.”
No one had sworn a vow to them before. Zoya thought of what it felt like from the other end, to feel like the ultimate arbiter of someone’s success at sticking to such a solemn oath. It left an impression on them of how serious these vows really are.
And they knew what they needed to do next.
Reaching for their necklace, it felt warm from being pressed between their bodies, Zoya closed their eyes and gripped it with both hands as they rested their head back down on Sage’s shoulder, “And I vow to you to stay by your side and fight for this place to the best of my ability until we’re all free.”
Zoya kept their eyes closed after that, pressed close to Sage, who pulled them closer as they both finally drifted off, the smell of petrichor drifting in through the open window as the pitter-patter of raindrops and the cries of the jungle night lulled them to sleep.
The coming days were quiet. There were various gatherings, as the community organized about what to do next. It was clear that taking to the streets would only mean more death. Eventually, the gatherings went from public discussions with large groups, to smaller, more private ones with trusted people.
One day, under the guise of wanting to get “something checked out”, Ria came to see Zoya in the hospital. In the privacy of the room, Ria explained how there would be a committee gathering tonight, and they had agreed to let Zoya in on their plans. They had earned the trust of this community, and they had unanimously voted to trust them with a role.
That night, Zoya reached the house she was directed to, late at night. It was a simple-looking home, though some might even call it a hut from how small and… rustic it looked. They knocked on the door with the pattern Ria taught them and waited, looking around in the empty back street that didn’t even have street lighting.
The door opened slightly, and the person on the other side peeked through the gap, eyeballing Zoya with suspicion. Their eyes eventually landed on Zoya’s necklace. The door suddenly shut and Zoya could hear the jangle of a latch being undone on the other side. When the door swung open, the person on one other side smiled wide at them. They were tall, with a messy head of hair, and a light tank top showed off torso and arms covered in tattoos down to the back of their hands.
Their voice was thickly accented. Not a foreign one, but a particularly thick local one. “Ah, you must be Zoya. Come. Hurry in.” They stepped out of the way and gestured quickly. Once Zoya made it inside, they took one final look outside and closed the door, latching it and deadbolting it.
“My name is Derya O’Niel. Welcome to my home.” They extended a large, calloused hand with slightly clubbed fingertips. Zoya took it, “Zoya Santos. Thank you for your hospitality.”
The grip was solid and honest. They smiled at each other before Derya turned and gestured to the rest of the room, “the rest of the people here are part of the defense committee for the Exalted Shipbreakers.” They walked over to the others joined them, seated around the table in the middle of the room. A fire crackled in a small hearth, warming the small room and adding a warmth to the dim lighting.
Zoya scanned the faces, all partially in shadow, recognizing some of their patients among them. And some who were at the front of the crowd when the massacre happened. While Derya seemed pretty chipper, the others had much more serious expressions on their faces, sizing Zoya up.
The awkward silence was broken by Ria stepping into the room with a bottle and some small glasses, setting them on the table. She smiled at Zoya. “I knew you’d come.”
“I had to. I’m here as part of my vow.”
The people in the room looked at each other, some surprised, others nodding confirmation.
“What vow?” croaked the voice of an older woman from across the table.
“I have vowed upon my emblem, and I vow to you, that I will see Florin free.”
Derya stood and smiled, then gestured Zoya towards an empty chair. “Then you are among friends. Come, sit. There is no time to waste and there is much to discuss.”
Zoya nodded and sat, as Derya unfolded a map on the table and started to explain where and how they would make their first strike.
When the explanation was over, Zoya sat back and took it all in. She wasn’t aware they’d managed to get together those kinds of weapons or equipment, especially on such short notice. They must have been planning this much longer, definitely before the more recent Clerk reassignment. These were people who deeply believed in Beryl as its own independent world, a reflection of its unique culture and identity, one that the Wrights had spent decades trying to erase and replace with their own. These days, people who spoke like Derya were rare, even though most people at least had a hint of the dialect in their day to day speech. A few even still spoke the Old Tongue with their grandparents.
There was still one big question after all this, “And what do you need from me?”
Derya, still leaning over the table, gestured at one part of the plan, “You’re the only one with a ship here, and you’re still not under watch by any of the Wrights. We need you to pick up a shipment of supplies from Lyra and drop it off at one of our caches in the jungle.”
Lyra station orbited Osolok, a nearby ice planet in the same sector as Beryl. It was ostensibly a terraforming station, but the terraforming itself had slowed down in recent years and, as one of the last independent settlements in the sector, it had turned into a great center of commerce, both legitimate and underground. It was a great, nearby place to acquire any supplies that would be needed without having the Wrights breathing down their necks.
“They’ll be suspicious of me suddenly going off world after all this time. I know they’ve been intercepting courier messages so nothing seems to get past them, which means they know I haven’t been reassigned. I’m pretty sure they paid my handlers off, too. How am I supposed to get there?” Zoya scanned over the plans again, trying to take in the complexity of everything.
“We have some… friends on the station. They’re going to get very sick. And they’re going to ask for help from the nearest Caducean. Which would be you.” Derya smirked.
“And the cargo? What is it?”
“The less you know about that, the better for you.” responded the leader, more gravely now than their usual cheer.
Zoya took a quick glance down at the plans. A lot of them involved logistics, things like stockpiling food and water, but there was plenty of that right on the planet, and many of the people involved were likely capable foragers.
That left one thing that they might want from the black market station, and that was weapons and other ammunitions.
Transporting something like that could put them in deep trouble with Caduceus if they were caught, probably even worse than usual because the Wrights’ repression was clearly something they were onboard with.
And yet, they’d sworn a vow. They would just have to make sure the mission went smoothly.
“Understood. But I have one condition.”
Derya raised their eyebrows, someone to the side chuckled and made some sarcastic comment. “And what is that?”
“You let me choose someone to bring with me. And they’ll have to be in on this, too.” They leaned forward on their chair and rested their elbows on it, “can you trust me with that?”
Everyone in the room looked at each other, then to Deryl, who frowned and crossed their arms, “You can, but you’ll have to introduce them to us first. Ria will contact you again the next time it’s time to see us. Bring your friend then.”
Zoya nodded, “Thank you. I’ll really need them if I’m going to pull this off.”
Deryl nodded, “Understood.” They reached for the plans in front of them, bundling them up, “I hope all of you have this burned in your heads now.” They stepped across the room, and before anyone could really answer, tossed everything in the hearth. The paper caught and burned to nothing in mere moments.
“Alright, dismissed. You all know what to do.” They smiled, back to their cheerful self. “Zoya, you’ll receive a medical aid summons in the next week. You’ll have to leave as soon as you get it if we’re gonna make it seem as urgent as we need. Make sure you’re ready for that.”
“Got it.”
“We’ll ask you to bring your friend before that, of course, but make sure they’re prepared too.”
Deryl walked over to Zoya and placed one of those large hands on their shoulder, “And thank you. You’ve done a lot for our community since you came here. I know you’re really sticking your neck out for us here, and I want you to know how much we appreciate and trust you.”
Zoya placed their hand on Deryl’s, “I’ll do everything I can to set this right. I lost my home to outsiders who saw more value in our land and resources than our humanity, and if I can stop that from suffering to another community I care about, I will.”
“Goodnight, Teacher. We’ll see you soon.”
Zoya smiled and waited as Deryl opened the door again, before stepping out again into the dark, humid night.