Chully ran towards the smoldering remains of the cultist, turning the corner to see Huluna lying in a heap on the alley floor, covered in deep gashes.

“Fenyn!” shouted Chully. The Marines all leapt from another nearby side street, Fenyn at the head of the crowd. He was already pulling bandages from his medpack when his knees hit the pavement by Huluna’s groaning form.

“Oh, this doesn't look as bad as it probably feels, Agent," said Fenyn as he crouched by Huluna. "I’ve got this, Marines. Go get whoever’s in that house!”

As the squad turned towards the dilapidated mansion, a bullet ricocheted off of Grepk’s armor. It was Chully who first returned fire, his pistol blasting away a chunk of the window frame the flash had come from. Another bullet crashed into the wall, showering Chully and the Marines with shards of stone.

The Marines, wearing their full gear, leapt towards the building, using their jetpacks to cover the distance in a matter of seconds. Halfway through the leap, a bullet hit Krum-Bahk square in the chest. While it didn’t even slow him down, he felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer.

Inside the mansion, Darvik tossed the rifle aside and ran. Squaring off against three fully armored Marines didn’t fit into his plans. He all but leapt down the stairs as he heard the marines crash through the window he’d been standing at. He should have ran in the first place, but the explosion had racked his nerves. He was a fighter at heart, but he had to learn when it was wiser to run. He clamored out of a busted-out window before the Marines had settled in the room and made sure it was empty.

“Rifle’s sitting right here,” said Krum-Bahk. “But where’s the shooter? And are we sure there’s only one?”

Keshri didn’t bother to answer, bolting for the back stairs in pursuit.

“Krum, check out the room,” ordered Grepk. “This shouldn’t take long.” The Marine captain followed Keshri down the stairs.

Suddenly Krum-Bahk’s world was a chaos of roaring flame. Even inside the protective shell of his armor, he felt the burning heat of the inferno threatening to cook him where he stood. Out of instinct he fired his jetpack.

On the ground, Chully was watching Fenyn work and trying to keep the crowd that had formed around the blast site away from Huluna. The local police had just shown up when a blast of heat and noise made him spin where he stood. He saw the dilapidated mansion had burst into flame, gouts of fire shooting from every window. Three figures blasted through the ceiling, leaping towards his position. Those in the crowd who hadn’t begun running from the burning building watched the three Marines in awe. In the stark light of the fire, three fully armed and armored Marines with smoke rising from their singed armor made for quite a spectacle. The Marines scanned the crowd in vain as Chully screamed at local law enforcement about expanding the perimeter immediately.

Meanwhile, Darvik had made his way around the mansion and joined the confusion of the crowd, running in the direction of the spaceport. No one had seen him. If he was careful, he should be able to make the rendezvous with Hoon-Kra without attracting any more attention.

***

Jasken’s sour, puckered face masked a deep rage as he broadcast a comms call, seeking any nearby ships. The signal was going for nearly an hour when someone finally responded. The Admiral stood facing the screen and nodded to Mairen, who allowed the respondent to come through.

An elegant, tall Astralbian female with haughty eyes appeared on the screen.

“Admiral Jasken, is it?” she asked in a disinterested voice.

“That’s correct,” answered Jasken coolly. He considered it a small victory that he was keeping his voice even. “And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“The fleet of Crown Prince Jylik,” she answered.

“And who am I addressing?” asked Jasken, anger now bleeding into his tone.

The lady smiled condescendingly. “Lady Trilia.”

“Lady Trilia,” replied Jasken with a nod of his head. “The Blue Griffon Fleet of the Griffon Republic would like permission to land on this planet to fill our water tanks and-”

“No,” said Trilia, her face expressionless.

Jasken took a breath before responding. “The IGC states-”

“We do not recognize the authority of the IGC.”

Jasken smoothed his mustache. “Then why should we recognize your beacon?”

“Because you do recognize the authority of the IGC,” replied the Astralbian noblewoman, a faint smile now playing on her lips. “And because the Astralbian Kingdom would consider it an invasion and an act of war if you were to land on our world without our permission.”

Jasken fought an internal battle to keep his face straight. “We will be out of your planet’s orbit as soon as possible. If the Crown Prince would like to explain how he came to be in this part of the galaxy-”

“He would not,” said Trilia. She terminated the call.

Jasken spun to the crew on the bridge, fire in his eyes.

“Dekken,” he said, addressing his chief engineer. “Are we prepared for another jump?”

The blue-spotted Raki shook his head. “No, sir. Our travel shields were drained to practically nothing during the last jump. We could use combat shields, but that’s a risky bet since we’d be sitting ducks once they were depleted.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Mairen, what other options do we have?” asked Jasken.

“Gri102-NN2.1 is the only other planet we’re aware of in this solar system,” she said grimly. “It’s a not a promising planet. We could luck out and find another moon like Platnon, but it’s doubtful.”

“Our only option is to head there. Officers Mairen and Dekken, I want to see a course plotted within the hour.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the officers in unison.

Jasken shook his head. “We’re not just looking for a murderer. We’re looking for an informant.”

***

“You gotta be kidding me!” shouted Vanbrook when he heard the announcement. They were going to be spending an additional week, minimum, traveling towards a different, less-desirable planet. Because of the Astralbians, of all things. Vanbrook had had enough of training recruits and spending every moment outside of his room with Raivyn. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded spending time with Raivyn, but she’d gotten increasingly short-tempered. Maybe she didn’t like spending time with him. The thought stung a bit.

Raivyn shook her head as she walked beside him, heading back to Talon Squad’s quarters from another training session.

“Guess this means more dinners with the eggheads,” she said bitterly.

Vanbrook cocked his head, regarding Raivyn curiously. “What’s your problem with Britkrup and Trembi?”

“Nothing,” said Raivyn irritably.

“Raivyn, I think after spending the past few years working with you, not to mention the past couple weeks side by side with you, I can read you better than that. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” said Raivyn defensively. She knew what it was. Jealousy. What she didn’t understand was why she was feeling it. Vanbrook was a great guy. Funny. Smart, or at least extremely clever. Handsome, even. But she had always regarded him as a co-worker and, since Hittania, as something like a brother.

But you don’t dance like that with a brother, said a little voice in her head. She scoffed out loud.

“You know what?” said Vanbrook, his hands up. “Forget it. Here we are, last stop. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He walked into his quarters, the door shutting behind him. Raivyn looked at the closed door for a moment. She raised her hand to knock, then lowered it and walked back towards her own quarters.

***

Crush reached out to the nearest Griffon Republic outpost. A Talpidarian female answered the call.

“Hello, how can I direct your comm?” she said in a pleasant voice.

“This is Admiral Crush of the Free Revolutionary Fleet. I would like to contact Admiral Jasken of the Blue Griffon Fleet.”

“One moment, please,” responded the dispatcher, disabling her camera.

Crush stood waiting for several minutes, her patience waning. Finally, the screen sprang to life again, and she was greeted by a masculine Robot.

“Admiral Crush,” he said in an excited tone. “It’s an honor to meet you. My name is Hobbe, uh, Minister Hobbe, that is. I provide civilian oversight of the Griffon Republic Navy for the Parliament. I just want to say that I admire your bravery and the path you’ve carved out for yourself in the galaxy. Your tide-turning counter offensive over Hittania is the stuff of legends.”

“Thank you, Minister,” said Crush, happy to hear the praise. “I was hoping to speak to Admiral Jasken.”

“Yes,” said Hobbe uneasily. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible right now. He’s on a sensitive mission and cannot be reached directly. I will, however, endeavor to have any message passed on to the Admiral as quickly as possible. The Republic truly cherishes our friendship with the FRF. What message would you like me to relay to Admiral Jasken?”

Crush paused. She had hoped to speak directly to Jasken. She didn’t want to betray the Republic, but she did want to free the PIC workers. Somehow she hoped to get advice without tipping her hand.

“I have an opportunity to help free some PIC Robot miners from their slavery-like conditions,” she said.

Hobbe’s partially articulated faceplate formed into a thoughtful frown. “The PIC. Whether it’s the biologicals on their farm worlds or the mechanicals mining their asteroid belts, they treat people like equipment. Unfortunately, they follow the Code to the letter, if not in spirit, and the Republic can’t go rocking that boat too much.”

“I don’t understand,” said Crush. “Are you saying you won’t help?”

“No, no,” said Hobbe, waving his hands. “Not at all. Just that we’ll have to tread carefully. Don’t worry, I’ll get your message to Jasken within the week. I’m afraid that’s the best I can promise you right now.”

“Alright,” said Crush. “Thank you, Minister.”

“Of course,” he said. “Providence shine on you.”

It was odd to hear that sentiment from a Robot. “Oh, on you, too.”

Ending the call, Crush mulled over her options. Maybe Slag had a point about the restrictions of the Code, after all.

***

The next morning, Vanbrook woke up and got ready to go to breakfast with the rest of the Squad. His groggy ears heard singing coming from the hallway, and when he opened the door he saw Hrake belting out a heartfelt rendition of Roll ‘Cross the Aether.

“Alright, who’s teaching the newbie aether shanties?” he asked in good-natured annoyance.

“D’Jarric has taught me much,” said Hrake with a smile. “But I love songs and poems best.”

“We’ve certainly had enough downtime,” said Reclan, rolling her eyes.

“Scuttlebut is that our shields are charged enough we might jump the rest of the way to Gri102-NN2.1,” offered D’Jarric hopefully. “If we do, the trip should only take a few hours even if we don’t go much faster than lightspeed.”

“I hope so,” said Vanbrook. “I’ve had as much as I can take of this ship. I don’t care if it’s in a grav-compensated spacesuit, I need some time clayside.”

Raivyn nodded, but stayed silent. Doc walked out of his room, reading a novel as he walked up to his companions.

“Shall we?” he asked without looking up from his book.

When the squad got to the galley, Vanbrook went right to the tea station and poured some rakka for himself and tavan blossom for Raivyn, taking it over to her seat. The others were either grabbing food or talking to friends at other tables.

She frowned at the mug. “What’s this for?”

“Drinking?” suggested Vanbrook sarcastically.

“Oh, uh, why?” asked Raivyn. “I mean, what made you want to get me a cup?”

“You’re my buddy until this whole murder thing gets solved, so I’m trying to, uh, be nice? Get back on your good side? Look, maybe you’re just sick of being stuck with me or whatever, but I honestly like spending time with you, at least when you’re not mad at me.”

Raivyn stared at the mug in frustration. He was making it hard to be mad at him, but she really just wanted to be mad at him.

“Look, Van,” she said, “I’m fine.” She leaned into the fib. “Yeah, the close quarters and unsolved murder are starting to get to me, I suppose. But you’re fine. And, uh, thanks for the tea.”

Vanbrook smiled at her. She smiled back. Just then, the others started drifting back to the table, Britkrup and Trembi joining them. Vanbrook smiled and nodded at the scientists, Trembi returning her brightest, most radiant grin. However, Raivyn was happy to see him set his cup down next to her own and take a seat there.