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parallel orbit with the fourteenth moon. As she approached, she began spawning an escort of Marauders. Some stayed close with the mothership, others sailed out adventurously, scouting, patrolling, and covering against any ship that might venture within missile firing range.
    Inside the big vessel, the Lady Zillabar and the Dragon Lord stood silently on the balcony above the command bay and watched as Burihatin loomed larger and larger ahead. The planet’s size presented a deceptive appearance of proximity, when in fact, they still had the better part of a day left before their scheduled disembarkation.
    Finally, finding the continued silence intolerable, the Dragon Lord offered a solicitous courtesy. “I hope you have had a pleasant voyage, my Lady.”
    â€œPleasant enough. And not without its tasty diversions.”
    The Dragon Lord nodded impartially. He did not appreciate the reference. He did not approve of dishonor, although he sometimes recognized it as a distasteful necessity; but if he could justify in his mind the occasional dishonorable act on behalf of the Regency, he still could not easily accept the casual discussions of same. He didn’t want to have the precedent established that even small dishonors had attained the respectability of polite conversation.
    The Captain of the starship came up to the observation deck then and bowed to the Lady and the Lord. He waited for their acknowledgments, and then reported crisply. “We have announced our presence. We have experienced no resistance from the Burihatin patrols, and we expect none. However, with your permission, I would like to modify our approach and keep the vessel orbiting at a safe distance until our Marauders have gone ahead and secured the area. I see no sense in putting you at even the slightest risk, Madame Zillabar.”
    The Lady nodded her agreement. “The resistance here will have heard about the death of Prince Drydel. They will have to have realized that the situation has accelerated gravely, and they might have just enough ambition to create a serious nuisance. Let us not grow overconfident on the eve of our triumphs. I concur with your decision, Captain. Besides, the extra delay means that I will have time for one more exquisite little dinner before disembarking.” She waved the Captain away.
    â€œI’ll see to the arrangements,” he said. He bowed and exited.
    The Lady turned back to the Dragon Lord. “Would you care to join me?”
    â€œI fear, Madame, that I must regretfully decline. If I do not spend more time with my own warriors, they might begin to believe that I no longer appreciate their company. As much as I would enjoy the delights of your company, my responsibility to your safety must take precedence.” He bowed.
    Zillabar smiled sideways at him. “You don’t fool me, you ravenous old lizard. I know that my eating habits disgust you—as your habits disgust me. But we need each other, and we tolerate each other, and we support each other . . . because without each other, we each have nothing.”
    â€œMy Lady,” the Lord replied, towering over her even as he bowed his head. “I have far too much respect for your wisdom to ever dream of arguing with you. I shall look forward to seeing you again after your meal.” He turned and lumbered away, leaving the Lady Zillabar studying his last words in her mind and wondering just how far she could depend on the loyalty of the Dragon Lord.

Plan B
    Sawyer sat forlornly on the mattress that served as cot, his brother’s head cradled in his lap. The others had withdrawn quietly to the opposite side of the room, from where they watched and waited in silence.
    Sawyer carefully wiped the sweat from his brother’s forehead with a damp cloth. His movements grew gentle and tender—and for a moment, the two brothers appeared to have attained a small measure of peace. The yellow light of the cabin gave them a soft