We'll Get By

We'll Get By

"We'll get by," Gravor said, "One way or the other."

Frethia shook her head in an almost angry retort. "Caravi's basically out of commission for the next several days, in case you haven't noticed." she replied sharply. "Without him, there's little else we can do."

"There has to be a way." Gravor said. "From the little sense that he did make while still conscious, it sounded like the plan was still in effect. Who are we to go against his orders?"

Zimot looked up from the notebook full of scribbles that no one else had been able to decipher. "He wanted us to keep going," he said softly, his disbelief clear in his tone. "To lie in this language- his birth language, I might add- is a fatal sin. It's written as clear as the first day we saw the Grath sun rising over the horizon. No matter what happened to him on Avarkeen, he wanted us to go on."

Both Gravor and Frethia looked up at him in silence before Gravor spoke. "The way that you're saying that... it's almost as if he..."

Zimot nodded, swallowing hard. "He knew that he might not survive that attack."

"But he did!" Frethia exclaimed. "He did survive!"

"Not necessarily in the way that he needed to." Zimot said. "The emotions that he's fighting right now... that's the second war, after the one that he left for. We have to go on, no matter what the outcome of this turns out to be."