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Bar’in leaned over and sniffed at Fal’ran. “You don’t remember, do you?”
Fal’ran winced. “Remember what?” How else had he fucked up?
“You got thrown across the whole damn ship when we crashed because you weren’t strapped in.” Bar’in shook his head, but instead of a lacerating sneer, he gave Fal’ran a smile. “And you weren’t strapped in because you’d unbuckled yourself to manually pull the aileron overrides.”
“You did good, Fal’ran.” Patrick palmed the back of Fal’ran’s neck. “You righted the ship. If you hadn’t, we’d have spun out of control and none of us would have walked away.”
“And we definitely wouldn’t have run, and I definitely wouldn’t have all my supplies, and that would have been devastating.” Sazahk shoved his plastic tube full of dirt to them, and Fal’ran accepted it to free up the qesh’s hands.
“Oh,” was all Fal’ran could say as he knelt to help Sazahk juggle his too-many things.
“Yeah, oh.” Bar’in bumped the side of Fal’ran’s boot with his own. “And you were such a selfish bastard when we met.”
Tar huffed and shook his head without looking at him. “So were you.”
Bar’in shrugged. “Yeah, so was I.”
“I knew being shot at would bring you all together.” Patrick opened the packs and sifted through the ammo. “Damn, say what you will about the Turner Corporation, but they are a manufacturing machine. We’ve got enough bullets to storm an Insect city in here.”
“Yeah, if we could find one.” Bar’in plopped down to sit in the dirt.
“And you’re the only one here that says anything bad about the Turners,” Fal’ran reminded him as he closed the sample tubes Sazahk handed him and tucked them into the pockets of Sazahk’s bag.
“And you were perfectly happy to take one of Dom’s inventions when it benefitted you.” Sazahk shot him a scowl with blue brushing over his jaw.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware of the hypocrisy. I don’t feel good about it.” Patrick turned a bullet around in his fingers.
Fal’ran had done the same thing when Sazahk first deposited one in his palm, spinning it around and examining the liquid sloshing inside its glass tip. Sazahk had been prouder than Dom, who’d explained his invention with a cross between satisfaction and unease. Fal’ran imagined he’d smelled like the sickness of shame mixed with the cloying sweetness of desperation.
Dom, with Sazahk’s help, had reverse engineered the Insect’s acid and created a mimicking chemical he could produce quickly and at high volume. He’d packed it into the payload of a standard issue bullet and, in under two weeks, supplied every army in the sector with boxes and boxes of Insect-carapace-dissolving ammo.
Judging by the screeching Fal’ran had heard as they escaped the ship, it worked well.
“But welcome to war.” Patrick popped the bullet into a clip and loaded his rifle. “You don’t feel good about most things. You almost done there, Sazahk?”
“I’ve taken as many samples from this particular location as I’m interested in, yes.” Sazahk brushed his knees off as he stood. “I’d love to analyze them, too, but I assume you’re not about to let me do that right now?”
“No, I am not.” Patrick shook his head with a smile and pulled out his tablet. “I want to get us out of here first.”
“That won’t help.” Sazahk tapped his long finger on the edge of Patrick’s tablet.
Patrick glanced at him with a frown. “Why?”
“This area isn’t called the Dead Zone just because everything’s dead.” Sazahk flapped his hands. “Which may not even be true, by the way. I have a suspicion that this region is teeming with life.”
“Really?” Bar’in looked around at the dirt and rocks and dried up twigs. “Teeming?”
“You’re saying it’s a Dead Zone in the communication sense, too?” Patrick bared his teeth down at his tablet, jabbing and swiping at its screen. None of them needed Sazahk’s nod at that point. “Okay, and navigation tools are busted as well.” Patrick stuffed his tablet back into his pocket and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, this is fine.”
“If the Qesh were going to want help protecting their planet, they could have least tried to make their planet functional,” Fal’ran scoffed. He zipped up the packs and passed them back to Tar and Bar’in.
Blue curled up Sazahk’s throat. “They were too arrogant to think they ever would need help.”
“We can complain later.” Patrick waved them quiet. “We know which side of the planet we crashed on. We know we weren’t far from the border, and we’ve got rations packed.”
Fal’ran closed his eyes and flicked through his memories of Patrick’s geography lessons. “Sun sets over civilization in this hemisphere. That’s our direction.”
“That’s right.” Patrick’s blue eyes twinkled at him. “Let’s move.”
