... and it's tomorrow.

Jheran scowled blackly and resumed his restless pacing. Tephro watched him silently, knowing the source of Jheran's irritation. All of the Bloodflames were uneasy and restless; many spoke of the bad luck invoked by leaving a friend behind.
If only they knew, Tephro mused. Fleetfoot did not forgive nor forget. If he decided that the entire band was to blame - Tephro did not want to consider the consequences of that.
Jheran stopped pacing and looked at his young friend.
"Teph?"
"Yeah."
"What do you think?"
"About what?"
"Challenging Kachallion."
Tephro started and stared at Jheran, who looked back soberly. "You're not kidding?"
"No."
"Well, if you want to , I'll back you. BUt I'm not doing any challenging myself."
"Didn't expect you to," Jheran said with a sudden grin. Tephro sighed.
"Well, if you don't challnege him, someone else will," he said. "Leaving Benedict and Autumn was a bad move."
Jheran only nodded, and drew his broadsword.

Benedict surveyed the ruin that had been the forcefield generator with more than a little satisfaction. What remained of the metal casing was dented, buckled and torn by Benedict's powerful, frenzied assault. The wiring was shredded, and the field gone.
Good.
His weapons were in a locker down the corridor, which was to be expected. Trust lizards to be unoriginal. Benedict wondered which one had come up with the bright idea of rebelling. That bright idea might just be fatal for all parties involved, he thought. Especially the rebels.
As he retrieved his weapons, he considered his options. If he waited too long to rescue Autumn, his escape woudl be noticed, and the guard increased on his partner. The lizards weren't so dense as to think that he would abandon Autumn, not after the way he had fought to stay with him. However, if he attempted it now, who knew how many guards he would run into, how many times he would get lost, when he would be recaptured.
It really wasn't fair, he thought, flexing his gloved hand. Why did there have to be so many blasted problems? Springing Autumn and escaping this disorganized rabble should be easy, even simple, like in the stories. Unfortunately, he reflected wryly, the stories weren't true. Real life was never fair.
He holstered his blaster and sheathed his blade. He flexed his hand again, frowned at a previously-unnoticed tear in one fingertip of the glove that exposed the matte black metal beneath, and called the image of the large brown-scaled lizard that had guarded his cell to mind. Imitating the reptile's step, voice and speech mannerisms was only a small step from remembering what he was imitating. It wasn't like he hadn't spent enough time returning that absent guard's scrutiny.

Ten minutes later a dark, shadow-shrouded figure with a distinctive limp and a too-loud, drawling voice shuffled into the narrow rectangular chamber with the force-field cell at the far end. The spotted yellow guard glanced up sharply.
"Yeah? Who is it?"
"Mine's asleep, yours?"
The yellow lizard rolled his eyes in exasperation, recognizing the voice.
"Darn it, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your voice down? Do you want to wake up the whole fort? No, I thought not," he added severely, as the other had the grace to look abashed. "And you know you're supposed to identify yourself first."
"Sorry," came the only slightly quieter reply. The yellow lizard only sighed in resignation.
"What did you want, Bornil? I assume there's a reason why you left your post."
"Uh, yeah. My long-ears has finally gone quiet. I think he might actually say something useful tomorrow. Thought you should know."
"We're not ordered, or paid, to think, Bornil. Leave that to the masterminds behind this pointless rebellion."
"Aw, come on ... "
"Okay, okay. Why do you think he'll talk?"
"'Cause he seems to be getting used to us. Just little things, mind, like he's not trying to get out any more."
"I don't see how that means he's gonna talk."
"Like I just have this feeling about it, okay? What about yours?"
"Aah, he's still in bad shape. He's been awake, but hasn't said anything. Deminar's group has gone out to round up more mercenaries if they can. I doubt they'll catch any more."
"How'd they get out? I heard the front's closed?"
"Yeha, but they used the side routes in the west wing, you know the ones that connect up to the armory."
"The armory?"
Something in Bornil's voice alerted the guard. He straightened, peering at the shadow-blurred, undefined figure.
"Hey, why do you want to know all this?" Something in the voice was wrong. "Who are -"
The shadowy 'guard' struck with brutal speed and efficiency. The yellow lizard dropped soundlessly, neck broken. Benedict stood over the dead guard.
"Thanks, mate. You've just given us a way out of this dump."
He turned decisively towards the forcefield at the end of the room, drew his blaster, and shot the generator. The machine sparked, shuddered; arcs of static played over it, and smoke escaped from the cracks. The 'field flickered and went out like a doused coal.
Benedict strode over to where Autumn lay, sprawled senseless on the floor, twitching sporadically with whatever he was dreaming about. Benedict figured that he'd done his share of twitching himself.
He prodded Autumn with a foor, waking his friend up, whereupon Autumn opened one eye, looked up at Benedict, groaned, and closed it again, with a muttered "g'way."
Benedict proceeded to kick Autumn in the ribs again.
"Hey, Gale, no lying down on the job."
Autumn opened his eyes again with a growl. He glared up at Benedict. "Can't a guy get some decent sleep around here?"
"No. Get up." Benedict drew his foot back for another kick. Autumn's eyes widened in alarm, and he sprang to his feet quickly.
"Alright, easy on the footwork, Fleetfoot. What are you doing here anyway?"
"I thought that would be obvious? I'm getting out of this heap."
"The exit is around her somewhere, I'm assuming, or you wouldn't be here," Autumn teased. Benedict shrugged, straightfaced.
"Absolutely."
"So freeing me wasn't part of your plan."
"Pure coincidence, I assure you."
Autumn grinned. "Well, my path just happens to coincide wiht yours, so if you'd lead the way .. ?"
Benedict snorted. "Sure. You hurt?"
"Scrapes, bruises, minor cuts. You?"
"Same."
There was an awkward silence. Autumn broke it finally.
"So .. how'd you get out?"
"Something the guard - Bornil? - Bornil said. He mentioned that the 'field was programmed to stop living organisms."
"So ...?"
Benedict grinned and drew the glove off of his prosthetic hand. "So I figured, if it's only stopping living organisms, what about machines? And guess what."
"Your hand went through?"
"Yeah." Benedict pulled the glove back on. "But I wrecked my glove."
"Poor you." Autumn paused. Then, "thanks."
Benedict shrugged. "What was I supposed to do, abandon you?"
"You wouldn't be the first," Autumn said quietly. Benedict looked at him, hard.
"We've been fighting the same battles for nigh on seven years, you and I. I will not leave you to face what I myself will not."
"I didn't think you would. It is the integrity of others that I now doubt."
"Don't blame the Bloodflames for Kachallion's mistakes," Benedict replied. Autumn nodded. There was another silence, which Autumn again broke.
"Shall we?"
"Yeah, we'd better. I've got prior appointments I'd hate to miss."
"So where's our exit?"
"In the armory."
"Where's that?"
"I thought you might know."
Autumn stared at Benedict. Then he threw back his head and laughed.
"Good job, Benedict. Good job."