The shuttle pulled into the Wingspan’s main hangar with the star tree close behind. When the hangar door closed and atmosphere was pumped back into the hangar, a group of officers and mechanics walked in clapping and cheering, led by Admiral Jasken. The crowd slapped shoulders, shook hands, welcomed the twins into the fold and jeered at the captive Astralbian knight. Kaihla rushed in and gave Drixen a big hug, trying to be careful of his wounds. A hug, Raivyn noted, not a kiss. She was a little ashamed that she was keeping score on that front in a moment like this, but she was pleased to see the platonic interaction between the two nonetheless.

“Alright, alright,” said Jasken. “This prisoner needs to be taken down to the brig. Once he’s in a T-wave tight cell, take these restraints off him. Triflin and Kiflin, you’ll follow me to the officer’s wing. Shrump’s cylinder is coming with me. Trikac will be taken to rest in the morgue until his final affairs are set in order. The rest of you… thank you for your service. Go rest. You’ve earned it.”

The lofted heroes went off to find a comfortable place to lay down, and Jasken led the twins to the room they’d be staying in.

“You’ll be staying in this room for the time being. Prisoners is an ugly word, but it’s the honest one. Once we get you two debriefed and vetted, you’ll be sent back to Kerucester on Griffonia. From there, you’ll largely be free to start your own lives.”

“We want to serve in the Griffon Republic Navy!” said Triflin. Kiflin nodded vigorous agreement. Jasken held back a smile and nodded seriously.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I like the spirit. There will be a guard at your door. Yes, he’s there to make sure you don’t leave, but he’s also there to make sure you’re comfortable. If you need anything, talk to him. We’ll try to get you processed as quickly as possible. And thank you both, for doing what you did. The bravery of your actions is not lost on me.”

With that, Jasken left the twins and headed to his own office and quarters. He opened the door to find Officer Hunt, Professor Chim, and Grikchum. He gave them a curt smile that did not reach his eyes. Chim held out an open hand.

"She wanted to see the cylinder," said Hunt apologetically. "I told her you would be keeping it in your quarters."

Jasken looked at Chim's outstretched hand, then looked up into her eyes, maintaining a straight, if stern, face. She relented.

"Admiral, may I please see the cylinder?" she asked with perfunctory politeness. Jasken obliged.

The professor and her assistant huddled over the shiny black cylinder. It was about four inches in diameter and nearly a foot long, covered with Ancient Talpidarian lettering.

"As I thought!" said Chim, “It's a Talpadarian puzzle tube."

"The markings aren't the coordinates, then?" asked Jasken, his optimism fading.

"No," replied the professor. “Each line of letters going around the tube spins individually. The trick is to line up the correct letters vertically. This mark on the top of the tube indicates which column the password should be lined up on. Once the puzzle is solved, the button on the top is pressed, and the tube opens. The coordinates will be inside."

"Can you open it?" inquired Jasken. Chim shrugged, which felt ominous to the Admiral.

"The code is likely in a cipher, so even if we knew the password, we still may not know which letters stand for which," she said, pondering.

"Can you just try every possible combination?" asked Jasken.

"No. Not only are there seven lines of twelve letters, making for a dizzying two million, nine hundred and eighty-five thousand, nine hundred and eighty-four possible solutions, but there is also the problem that it is certainly trapped."

Jasken smoothed his mustache and furrowed his brow. "Trapped? How so?"

Here, Grikchum broke into the conversation. "These cylinders were invented by the Talpidarians as a way to deceive the Empire, that is, to pass along information and documents in such a way that the Astralbians would not see it. The cylinders are mechanical devices, crude compared to the Astralbians' biotechnology but difficult for them to comprehend.

"For some time, the cylinders were dismissed as another useless gadget and dismissed when found on rebels and dissidents. As an added layer of protection, they typically employ an acidic or even explosive trap to destroy any documents if the cylinders were tampered with or if the release was pressed without first lining up the password.

"So, without the cipher and password, the chances of opening the cylinder without destroying the document within are nearly three million to one, or, I dare say, practically impossible."

Jasken raised his eyebrows, impressed with the youthful scholar.

"Very good," said Chim in a tone just condescending enough to give the impression she was impressed but felt the upstart student had much more to learn. "We will, of course, start right away looking into possible ciphers and solutions." She began to walk out of the room.

"Professor," chided Jasken. This time it was his turn to hold out an open hand. “The cylinder stays with me for now. We will create a 3D image for study purposes and you will have immediate access to those files."

Chim sheepishly and begrudgingly returned the cylinder, and the two scholars left the room.

***

The next morning, Talon squad gathered for an early breakfast as they waited on further orders. The galley table was quiet. No one had much to say. As soon as she was done eating, Raivyn got up and left. Doc and D’Jarric, who attended the traditional breakfast meetings only for the camaraderie and any official business to address, left soon after.

“You gotta patch things up with Rai,” said Reclan. Vanbrook, the only other squadmate still present, huffed, and sipped his rakka.

“Hey, she didn’t want to talk,” he said, “and then she literally sent a shot across my bow. I looked up star tree weapons systems. They respond to the pilot’s psychic impulses, interpreting their emotions and intentions. I don’t think Raivyn meant to shoot at me. But she does want me dead.”

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Reclan paused and stared at the table for a bit.

“Well,” she said finally, “she doesn’t want me dead, and I was on that shuttle, too. Look, Van, what do you know about Rai’s childhood?”

“She was a gifted student. Excelled at athletics and academics. Full scholarship to the Griffonian College of Psychic Studies, top of her class, joined the Navy, blah blah blah.”

“That’s her career,” corrected Reclan, “not her childhood.” The Dromean sighed. “Look, it’s not my place to tell you everything. She’s confided some stuff in me that I probably shouldn’t repeat, but trust me when I say that what you said -calling her a 'freak’ - that cut deep.”

The pair sat there for a few more minutes of silence. Reclan sighed. “I’m heading down to the fabrication shop,” she said finally. “Most of my drones were destroyed by wildlife and the standard issue ones I have been given as replacements need lots and lots of dangerous mods before I’d be willing to be seen with them in public. I’ll see you later, Van.”

Van continued to stare into his tea, but Reclan thought she might have caught a spark of his old humor in his eyes.

***

On the bridge, Jasken had hailed Lord Raelik of the Astralbian Kingdom. The noble looked aggravated. Jasken gave him a smile.

“Lord Raelik. Would you happen to be missing a smaller, maybe shuttle-sized star tree?” Jasken had no doubt Raelik had signed off on the assault, but giving your opponent deniability had a way of keeping conversation civil.

“Admiral. As a matter of fact, yes,” said Raelik, playing along. “Along with one of my knights and six soldiers.”

“I regret to inform you that your knight - Sir Traebly, I believe? - led an assault against my people, killing one of them and badly wounding another. He is in our custody, as is the star tree.”

“You will return them both, of course, along with the soldiers,” commanded Raelik.

"I’m afraid four of the soldiers were killed as my people defended themselves. The remaining two have chosen to stay in Republic custody for the time being. You’ll have their letters announcing their intentions shortly.

“The prisoner and the ship will stay in our custody as we investigate the matter. Of course, you had no knowledge of the attack and we will soon be able to return your tree and knight to you in as good a condition as when we acquired them.”

Raelik sneered at the insolent worm who dared to try playing him like some common politician.

“Very well, Jasken,” he seethed. “Have it your way.” He ended the call abruptly.

***

Vanbrook finished his rakka in solitude and then headed for the gym. Getting in an elevator, he was surprised to find Jasken with a large parcel.

“Good morning, Admiral,” he said cordially.

“Vanbrook,” responded Jasken. The two stood side-by-side for a moment in a silence that made Vanbrook squirm.

“Funny thing,” said the Admiral, “Drixen’s report mentioned an accidental discharge of the star tree’s weapons, but none of Talon Squad’s reports did.”

Vanbrook thought to himself that it might be a good idea to have a conversation with “Textbook” on how to apply discretion in future reports.

“Ah,” he said. “No big deal. Just a small growing pain as we figure out how to utilize Astralbian technology sir.” He looked around for a way to change the topic. “What’s with the parcel? Unless, of course, that’s classified.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, this is just some beef trimmings from the galley.”

Vanbrook nodded, his face betraying his confusion. “Planning on having a little snack later, sir?”

“No, uh, it’s for Ol’ Blue,” explained Jasken. “Old boy needs some real red meat from time to time, you know?”

“Ah, of course.” Mercifully, the elevator door opened for Vanbrook’s floor. He stepped out quickly, saying, “So long, Admiral. Say hi to Ol’ Blue for me.”

***

High above, Crush wiped the grease from her hands once again.

“Good work, all,” she said to the maintenance crew she’d been working with. She got a few nods, a slap on the shoulder from one of the more gung-ho workers, and then watched the others all quietly file away from the Sepulchre's functional but suboptimal gun battery. The other large gunship, the Gravestone, wasn't as badly damaged, but they had done what they could to beef up the EM and ballistic shielding there as well. The two smaller gun and support ships, the Dirge and the Shroud, had barely been touched by the attack.

The past few days had been a miserable, grinding, frustrating slog of trying to get the guns and shielding functional again. Without additional ships, it seemed unlikely that they would be able to defeat the Republic fleet, not to mention the Astralbians. Part of her hoped that they would just abandon this campaign. She was having a hard time seeing the point of it now.

“Crush,” said a rusty voice over her comms. “Report to my cabin immediately. The Astralbians want to have a parlay.” Rage boiled in her circuits. The Astralbians again. She’d like to tear their electromagnetic fields apart slowly, one by one, just to hear that little pop as they fizzled out of existence. Parlay indeed. What did robots and a kingdom that wanted them all dead have to parlay about?

“Yes, Admiral,” she said, “I’ll be there shortly. I’m on the lead gunship now. We’ve finished repairs to the best of our abilities.”

“Good, good,” said Grim absently. “Hurry up, I want a word before the call begins.”

Crush hopped on a skiff and got to Grim’s cabin on the Reaper as quickly as she could manage. Frustrated as she was, she never slacked off out of protest. She’d tossed underlings out into the aether for that kind of treason against the Collective.

“Sir,” she said as she entered the cabin.

“Crush,” he said, rising from his chair. His massive frame seemed to take up the whole of the cabin.

“I’m concerned about you,” he continued. “Since you’ve risen in the ranks, you’ve been spending more time than ever with the ditch diggers and wrench turners. Part of being promoted means less menial tasks.”

“With respect, sir, that kind of neglect is what made Splatter so ineffective. I find that spending time with my underlings boosts morale and works towards the good of the Collective.”

Grim shook his head. “You are a true believer, Crush. I admire that. I really do. But I was hoping your loss of the platinum bar would put things into perspective for you. We are the good of the Collective. The benefits accrue to us.”

Crush bristled internally, but simply said, “I will remember that going forward.” Grim eyed her with a doubtful look.

“Glad to hear that,” he said flatly.

Just then, the comms system beeped. Grim accepted the call. “Lord Raelik. So good to see you. Now, what’s this about?”

“Admiral Grim,” said Raelik sweetly. “We seem to have a common enemy. I have a proposition.”

The wolfish grin on the Astralbian’s face chilled Crush’s circuits.

***

Aboard the Wingspan, a figure shuffled through the maintenance corridors. The ship’s electrical infrastructure was mostly contained in one area, making the mission relatively easy. Bypassing an alarm, the figure cut off the emergency back up power to the brig. Finding the junction box labeled “Cell 3,” a smile appeared on the deeply shadowed face. The figure opened the box and cut every wire in quick succession. The brig would be totally without power for at least a few moments. That should be all Traelby needed.

Phase one was complete. Now to find the other systems that needed attention.