[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/246624086/0/0]Table of Contents[/url] The Warlord sat quietly in her private chamber. Her fingers caressed the sidearm at her waist absentmindedly, running along the contours of the handle as she thought. Derik was still holding true to his desire to unite everyone against the Fallen. It was impossible, of course. The Warlords would burn the world down before they let anyone control them or gain more power than them. And there was no defeating the Fallen. But she still found herself wanting to try it. The truth was that she was the liar, not him. She wanted to help him. She believed him when he said he wasn’t a spy. But she couldn't admit that. She'd toyed with the idea of making allies in the past, experimented with fragile and false truces with her neighbors. Derik’s plan wouldn't work, not without waging war against every Warlord in the system. And it would be pointless. Even if they could make allies and form some kind of army, she knew they were no match for the Fallen. Humanity was weak. The aliens couldn't be stopped. The Warlord's eyes drifted to a shock blade mounted on her wall; a trophy from an old battle. It was all pointless. They'd all have their throats slit eventually. Whether it was done by the Fallen or other humans wasn't important. Her goal was to survive as long as possible. Now she had to decide what she would do with Derik. Releasing Derik and letting him stay in town was a risk. He would kill her if it really was all an act. If she sent him out of town, it would spare his life and distance him, preventing the possibility of an assassination attempt. But she couldn't just let him go or everyone would think she'd gone soft. That would make her more popular with some people, but if other Warlords heard about it they might be foolhardy enough to try attacking her. Her best options were either to kill Derik or keep him imprisoned. He’d be less trouble dead; she wouldn’t have to waste resources tending to a prisoner. What if she did try uniting the Warlords, like he had suggested? There would be a war to wage. Even more people would want her dead, but new allies could be found in other idealists and those oppressed by the Warlords. Would they be willing to follow a Warlord who claimed it was all to protect Humanity? Then there were the Fallen. Open war between Warlords would tear apart towns, weakening defenses. Many would die. The scavengers would come in like vultures and finish everyone off with almost no resistance. And in the end, if unity was achieved? They wouldn't be enough, stretched thin between ruined villages. It would become an attrition war, and the Fallen would pick them apart. Derik's dream had no hope, so the Warlord had no choice. She stood, tugging on her cape out of habit as she devised a plan. Perhaps if she tortured him a little then exiled him from town, she could spare his life and send a warning to other Warlords at the same time, a reminder that she wasn’t weak. It could work. • • • The guards had taken Derik to a different cell. The only furnishing was a steel table. They had removed his shirt and made him lie on the cold metal, then fastened him down with leather straps and left him alone in the cell. He was sure they were standing right outside the door. He couldn't move much or see the entrance, so he just tried to relax and waited. Under the circumstances, relaxing proved to be too difficult. He couldn't help but think of the Warlord's threats, imagining the ways she could torture him. It was obvious that the torture was about to begin. He broke out in a cold sweat, trying to block out his thoughts. Then he heard footsteps. Multiple people came in, two by his guess. A guard came up on his right, and the Warlord herself stood to his left. "If you're ready to tell me the truth," the Exo said, "Now would be your last chance." Derik was terrified, but knew nothing he could say would save him. So he replied with as much bravery as he could muster, "I've already told you the truth." "Mhmm," the Warlord hummed, nodding her head slightly in acknowledgement. The orange glow of her eyes burned through him like fire and chilled his bones. "What hand do you write with?" She asked. Derik blinked, confused, but answered, "Uh- the right." The Exo placed her palm on his left hand and pressed it down, pinning it but leaving the tips of his fingers free. "Give him something to bite," she ordered, procuring a small knife, "We don't want his mouth damaged too soon." Derik's eyes widened as the guard stuffed a dirty rag in his mouth. The filthy cloth left a bad taste in Derik’s mouth, but he resisted the urge to spit it out. The Warlord casually leaned over him and held the knife over his fingers. "Try not to move," she advised. The tip of the knife came down slowly until its cold edge rested against the end of his index finger. Derik looked up to the Warlord and his eyes locked with hers. They stared at each other in silence for some time, then Derik felt the weight of the knife lift from his finger. He let out a relieved breathe, and the Exo tugged the rag out of his mouth. "Before we begin, I would like to ask some questions," she requested, "Seeing as now is better than later." Derik was too scared to respond or even move, so she continued, "How would you have united people, or the Warlords, to help you?" The flat side of the knife brushed over his knuckles, making him shiver as he replied, "I, uh, I would’ve taken everyone who was willing. I would’ve explained how everyone killin’ each other won’t help anythin’ and the Fallen are the real threat." "That’s hardly a plan. And those that don't join?" The Warlord inquired. "I suppose we would leave them alone; let the Fallen have their way with ‘em," Derik muttered, "Unless they tried attackin’ us. Then we’d have to fight back an’ probably kill ‘em…" "A surprising solution from someone who wants everyone to be friends," the Warlord seemed to smile, though it was hard to tell with the Exo, "And the Fallen?" "I don't know," Derik slumped, "I’m no Warlord, I don’t know how to go about a war. We’d fight ‘em, try to drive ‘em off. I know that’s easier said than done..." He trailed off when he saw the Warlord watching him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking behind her calculating stare. "Do you realize how impossible your dream is?" She asked. “I don’t think it’s impossible,” Derik replied cautiously, "I’m not sayin’ it’ll be easy, but I think it’s doable." “Trust me,” the Warlord assured, “It’s impossible.” She seemed to be done making small talk. Derik was sure the torture was about to begin. He couldn't feel the knife anymore and wanted desperately to know where it was, but he didn't dare to look away from the Exo in front of him. The Warlord sighed tiredly and backed away from Derik, "I must be even crazier than you." "My Lady?" The guard questioned. "Release him," the Warlord commanded.