Jylik frowned as he walked into the so-called king’s palace. He had not expected much, but still the building managed to under-deliver. It may have been beautiful in its day, full of carvings and paintings and well-kept plants, but now it looked more like ruins. Nothing had fallen over- yet- but it was clear the place was not being kept after. The stonework was overgrown with withered-looking vines and dust and refuse covered the floor. He caught sight of the King, sitting in the shadows on a dilapidated throne, his decrepit face twitching as he regarded Jylik. He fit his kingdom well.“King Zrykyk, I presume?” asked Jylik in his silkiest voice.

The king regarded him suspiciously. A large, muscular Hrudukite with a patch over one eye stood by his side. His face was passive but Jylik could tell by his body language that he was ready to kill at a moment’s notice.

Jylik sighed. “I was told you had learned the basics of our language. I forget how difficult organics find it to learn. Well, on the off chance you are hearing what I say, I am Prince Jylik of the Astralbian Kingdom. I learned of your greatness by the testimony of your people. I seek to forge an alliance with you against our common political opponents.”

“I learn your tongue,” said a voice from the shadows by the throne. “New gods tell us how to kill old gods, yes?”

Jylik smiled. “Yes, something like that.”

***

Jasken walked out of the bridge and made his way to his office. The jump had launched successfully, and they were on their way to a promising new world. The trip would take three weeks and threatened to max out their travel shields, but he was feeling optimistic about the planet.

Just as he got to his door, a technician ran up to him. He was breathless and his face looked pale and drained. He stood there, panting.

Jasken frowned and stared down at the man. “Well, what is it, sailor?”

The technician swallowed. “M-murder, sir.”

***

Crush walked out of the office building’s airlock, the gray, brutalist architecture staring down at her like an oppressive giant. She was making her way through a series of open-aether catwalks back to her ship when she saw Slag approaching from the living quarters. Slag was the de facto leader of the discontent workers. If his wide, weathered, body made it look as though he had been working in the mines for the better part of a century, the impression undersold the reality.

“Admiral,” he said as soon as he was in earshot. “How do we look?”

Crush sighed. “A bit rough, I’m afraid. He wants to trade information for your debt, but it’s information I don’t have.”

“Can you get it?” asked Slag earnestly.

“To be determined,” responded Crush curtly.

“Look, Admiral, I don’t know what to tell you,” said Slag nervously. “My crew is getting restless. If we can’t figure out a deal, we… we have another idea.”

“I’m not declaring war on the PIC,” said Crush.

“You won’t have to!” protested Slag. “We don’t need you to attack, just fly us out of here! We could board the ships inside an hour, we’ll be long gone before Redgone realizes anything.”

“That would be nearly as bad,” retorted Crush. “We’re mercenaries, not pirates. We’re not going to blatantly break the Code, but I’m not done yet either.”

“The Code! The Code!” ranted Slag. “What good has the Code done here? In theory, it protects the rights of all sapients, but in practice it just gives nations like the Griffon Republic or the Teratan Independent Nation ethical cover while nations like the People’s Interstellar Co-op abuse the system and oppress the people they call their own brothers and sisters! Hang the Code, I want to live free!”

Crush was taken aback by the Robot’s sudden outburst, but she also understood the sentiment. She, too, had been part of an abusive government, of sorts. The upper echelons of the Ramshackle Collective had treated its members like cannon fodder while they lived like kings.

She put a hand on Slag’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Bide your time. I’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Alright,” he answered with uncertainty. “Alright. But please understand you’re sitting on a powder keg.”

Crush nodded her understanding as she turned to board her ship.

***

Talon Squad was on their way to the firing range when the ship’s alarms sounded.

“All non-essential personnel, report to quarters immediately,” said Captain Hunt over the public comms. “The ship is locked down as of now. Please report any out of the ordinary activity to your commanding officer immediately. You will be updated as the situation allows.”

Vanbrook looked at the others as they obediently jogged towards their quarters.

“What do you think?” he asked. “The ‘out of the ordinary activity’ bit makes me think there’s been some kind of foul play. It’s not the kind of thing you say if the reactor’s about to melt down or something.”

“We’ll be updated as the situation allows,” said Raivyn.

Vanbrook rolled his eyes.

“What going on?” asked Hrake.

“We are going to our rooms,” said D’Jarric patiently. “You stay with me. I will help you understand.”

Hrake nodded.

When they reached their quarters, they all went their separate ways. As soon as Vanbrook got to his quarters he flopped onto his bed. Having personal quarters was a major benefit of being in a Special Squad, but it was annoying when it came to lockdowns. After a while he stood up, looking around for something to do. He did some push-ups, he went through some sword drills, he called Reclan on her comm.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“Dude,” said Reclan. “It’s been less than an hour. I’m catching up on- ow! Soldering accident, no worries- I’m catching up on drone maintenance. I’ll talk to you later.”

Vanbrook sighed. “Fine.”

He laid back down and stewed for nearly another hour until there was a knock on the door. Checking that his gun was in his holster, he sprang up and went to the door. When he looked through the peephole he saw Captain Hunt and Admiral Jasken. He opened the door.

“Come on in,” he said. Hunt and Jasken stepped in, motioning for Vanbrook to shut the door.

He obliged, looking at the two men. “So, what’s going on?”

“Looks like there’s been a murder onboard,” said Jasken simply.

Vanbrook whistled. “Wow. Who?”

“We’re here to interview, not be interviewed, Vanbrook,” Jasken chided.

Vanbrook frowned, but nodded his understanding.

“I’m extremely interested to know the whereabouts of Hrake over the past two days,” said the Admiral sternly.

“With us?” said Vanbrook incredulously.

Jasken frowned. “I need an airtight alibi, Specialist.”

Vanbrook sighed. “I can vouch for him until we came back aboard. And for meals since, and when we started the jump. Other than that, he was typically with either Raivyn or D’Jarric.”

“Typically?” asked Hunt, who was furiously taking notes on his tablet.

“I didn’t keep a log of his activities, Hunt,” said Vanbrook, annoyed. “I didn’t realize I’d need one.”

“That’s Captain Hunt to you,” said the Captain sternly. “And we’re just ruling out possibilities, so cool it.”

Vanbrook held his hands up in defeat, a look of annoyance still on his face.

“Okay, ‘Captain,’ that’s what I know about Hrake. I haven’t seen anything odd, from him or otherwise. Do you want me to go through my time since we got back from Platnon?”

Hunt sighed and flipped through his tablet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

After going through a pretty mundane list of the tasks, meals and activities that had made up his past day or so, he looked at Jasken. “You’re not personally interviewing everyone onboard, are you?”

Jasken shook his head. “No, but frankly I should. I’m focusing on any leads we have, no matter how slim.”

“Leads like Hrake?” asked Vanbrook.

“Yes. Leads like Hrake,” said Jasken. “The victim was struck in the head with a blunt object. The direction of and damage from the blow indicate a large, powerful attacker. Hrake had no obvious motivation but he’s also an unknown quantity that matches the admittedly vague profile of the attacker. If I can’t eliminate him as a suspect early in this investigation it’s going to be a problem on this ship and beyond. In other words, take this seriously.”

***

Jasken found less attitude but little more information as he interviewed Raivyn, Reclan and Doc. Finally, he knocked on D’Jarric’s door. The massive Solaran opened the door and gestured Jasken and Hunt inside. To Jasken’s surprise, the Hrudukite warrior was in the room as well.

“How can I help, Admiral?” asked D’Jarric.

“You can start by telling me why our guest is not in his own quarters,” said Jasken, a

note of hostility in his voice.

D’Jarric looked taken aback. “I simply asked him to stay with me. His Talpaertan has come a long way, but overhead announcements aren’t conducive to reading body language or asking questions. I figured he was better off with me for now.”

“You should have run that by me, D’Jarric,” said Jasken.

D’Jarric dipped his head. “Apologies, sir.”

Jasken waved his hand dismissively. “Accepted. Hunt, please escort Hrake to his quarters.”

Hrake looked to D’Jarric and pointed to the Captain. “I leave with Captain Hunt?”

D’Jarric nodded. “To your own quarters.”

Hunt followed Hrake out of the room.

When the door was once more closed, Jasken looked at D’Jarric and let out a sigh. “D’Jarric, please tell me you can vouch for Hrake’s whereabouts over the last two days?”

D’Jarric raised an eyebrow. “Mostly.”

Jasken smoothed his mustache. “Mostly. That won’t do.”

“May I ask what this is about, sir?” asked the Solaran.

“There was a murder, D’Jarric,” said Jasken, looking deflated. “Technician Dritch, worked down below decks. The circumstantial evidence matches up with Hrake. So much is new to him, and his culture is new to us. I really don’t think he killed a random technician below decks, but he’s going to be a popular scapegoat until the real killer is found.”

D’Jarric tapped his chin in thought. “Are there any other leads?”

Jasken shook his head. “We searched the area thoroughly and found no clues to the murderer’s identity. Dritch was working alone doing a routine check of some pretty obscure areas of the ship.”

“Maybe he found someone who was trying to hide something?” suggested D’Jarric.

“Maybe,” replied Jasken. “The problem becomes ‘who?’ And I don’t have an answer there. Dritch’s remains are being examined aboard the Shepherd and the work logs are being cross referenced as we speak. Hopefully that will turn something up. Just keep an eye on our new friend, okay?”

“Can do,” said D’Jarric.

Jasken shook his head and left the room.

***

Jylik once again rose into the aether aboard his star tree, Gevrok standing by his side. The Hrudukite had pledged loyalty to Jylik and asked to go with him under the pretense that he would serve as King Zrykyk’s eyes and ears aboard Jylik’s star tree. In reality, Gevrok was the kind of creature that served whoever he believed to be the most powerful. Jylik had seen many worms like him before.

Gevrok spent the first few days of the trip gawking over the tree’s inner workings, but was most excited about the thorn guns. Jylik explained how they worked, but didn’t yet feel comfortable actually letting the barbarian hold one, much less fire one. Nonetheless, he allowed Gevrok to train with the soldiers aboard the tree. It gave the turtle something to do besides fawn over Jylik, anyway.

Jylik received another message from his mysterious benefactor, and the information worried him. He marched down to the sanctum.

“Tree Priestess,” said Jylik, interrupting the wizened old priestess’ work.

“My lord?” she asked.

“How fast can the fleet go? We need to make better time.”

***

Vanbrook was laying in bed again, staring at the ceiling and mulling over the murder when Hunt’s voice came over the public comms..

“Attention. Thank you for your patience and cooperation. The lockdown will be lifted shortly, but first the Admiral would like a word with us all.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Jasken. “I’m sorry to inform you that Technician Dritch was found murdered earlier today. His commanding officer and fellow technicians were informed and all reported that Dritch was an excellent worker and a good friend. We will all mourn his loss.

“The investigation into this tragedy is ongoing. We will be implementing a “two-by-two” protocol until the murderer is brought to justice. No one is to travel or work alone at this time. Your commanding officers will fill you in on the details. After having such a discussion, you are dismissed from the lockdown. Thank you.”

Vanbrook sighed discontentedly and opened up a comm line with the Squad.

“Sooooo… what are we thinking?” he asked when everyone answered the comm.

“I’ll stick with Hrake,” said D’Jarric.

“Sounds good,” said Vanbrook. “Rec, you wanna buddy up?”

“Oh, sorry,” she replied. “I’m already partnered with Doc.”

“Really?” asked Vanbrook. “Okay then. Raivyn?”

“Looks like that’s the way of it,” she said.

“Cool. Well, ‘buddy,’ you wanna go hit the galley now that we’re off lockdown? I need a change of scenery.”

In her quarters, Reclan smiled.