A lone, scrubby tree shook violently in the stormy winds of Kirakna. Occasionally, a wave would crash over the rocky shore, and the ragged tree would be submerged under the foam. When the water retreated, the tree reemerged, looking no worse than it had prior.

Vanbrook watched the tree's trials and tribulations from where he sat atop a cliff face in Tra-Kirakna, the sheltered, mountainous capital city of the water world Kirakna. He had found himself wandering around the island frequently since the Blue Griffon Fleet had come back from their journey to the Cornucopia Cluster, mostly to avoid the other members of Talon Squad.

Had it not been for Raivyn's intervention, he would have killed a man in cold blood. Raivyn did the right thing and Vanbrook knew it, but he was loath to admit it, even to himself. He heard the crunch of gravel behind him and turned to see Reclan, his best friend and a fellow member of Talon Squad. The Dromean's red crest of feathers was flattened against her head in annoyance.

She sighed and picked up her comm. "Found him. We're on our way." She turned to Vanbrook, her arms crossed. "You're supposed to have your comm on at all times, Van. Jasken called Talon Squad about an hour ago. We're supposed to be there now."

Vanbrook shrugged. "I thought we were still off duty."

Reclan shook her head. "Off duty and unreachable are two different things… you know what? Save it for Jasken."

She turned to trot off down the path, expecting the swordsman to follow.

"I was gonna pull that trigger," said Vanbrook.

Reclan stopped and turned, aggravated to see that he hadn’t moved at all. She stomped back up to him, staring him in the eye.

"You think I don't know that?" she asked. "The whole Squad knows it! Knows that Raivyn kept you out of prison."

She rubbed her eyes, calming herself a bit. "Van, way back on Hittania you told me I needed to quit whining and do my job. I took it to heart. Now listen to me: quit whining and do your job. I know you're still furious about Wilbis' murder. I am, too. But if we're very lucky, we'll never see Darvik again.” She paused for a moment and mustered her courage. “And you should apologize to and thank Raivyn for what she did."

Vanbrook's dark, aquiline features remained uncharacteristically stoic for a moment. He nodded and started walking down the hill. Reclan shook her head and followed.

***

Admiral Jasken stood in his temporary office on Kirakna, hands behind his back, waiting for Talon Squad to arrive. The Wingspan, the flagship of Jasken's Blue Griffon Fleet and his home away from home, was undergoing a series of repairs after a harrowing journey that featured a naval battle and, more notably, an attack by one of the legendary aether beasts.

Unsurprisingly, Raivyn was the first member of Talon Squad through the door. Prim, proper, and prompt, the talented psychic warrior was the most disciplined of the elite team. She was short, fair skinned, and kept her hair in a neat military bun, with a few rogue locks hanging over her brow.

"Specialist Raivyn," said Jasken, smoothing his white mustache. "Have we found our AWOL squad member?"

"Yes, sir," she said without emotion. "Reclan found him, they're on their way here now."

"Any reason he had his comms device off?" pressed Jasken. He approached Raivyn. His tall, wide frame and grizzled, grim features may have intimidated some, but Jasken knew Raivyn was made of tougher stuff than that.

"Couldn't say, sir," answered Raivyn.

"He's been uncharacteristically somber since we returned to Kirakna," said Jasken. "I take it this has to do with that Darvik character."

It was not a question.

"Yes, sir, I believe so," answered Raivyn.

Jasken nodded.

Three more members of Talon Squad walked through the door. First came D'Jarric, or at least the electromagnetic avatar of D'Jarric, who in actuality was floating in the fiery atmosphere of a distant star. He was a glowing gold humanoid wearing silver armor with blue trim. Behind him was Hrake, a turtle-like humanoid they had picked up on their last journey. He was a temporary, junior member of the squad, sent by his shaman on a quest to explore the stars. Doc Manford took up the rear. The gruff, bookish Robot served as medic and sharpshooter for the squad.

Hrake and D'Jarric chatted softly for the following ten minutes, but the office was otherwise silent. Jasken stared at the empty door frame intently, his eyes narrowing as the minutes passed. When Reclan finally rounded the corner of the door frame she tripped on her own feet, as though the smoldering glare had physically pushed her back. Vanbrook followed behind, looking glum and inattentive.

"Specialist Vanbrook," growled Jasken. "Is your comms device broken?"

"No, sir," answered Vanbrook seriously.

"Then please explain why I was unable to reach you and thus had to delay this meeting."

"My comms device was turned off while I was on leave, in violation of protocol," said Vanbrook, maintaining a straight face and eye contact as he spoke. "I accept responsibility and any associated consequences."

Jasken arched an eyebrow. He had expected the cavalier swashbuckler to try and worm his way out of responsibility for the breach of protocol. He decided it wasn't in the Navy's best interest to punish Vanbrook harshly just when he started to show signs of discipline.

"See that it doesn't happen again," he said sternly.

Vanbrook nodded. "Yes, sir."

Jasken stood still for a moment and gathered himself. "The reason I called you here is that you have been called to come to the defense of Gateway." The whole Squad seemed to focus a bit harder on what he was saying as the statement sunk in.

"While it is not currently under attack, we have gotten some worrisome reports from our Astralbian Kingdom contacts. King Hylik is dead, and his son has succeeded him.

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"This is of great concern to us as Hylik, though no friend of the Republic, has always exercised caution in matters of diplomacy. We do not expect the same from his son, and the same sources indicate that a full military fleet is now headed for the Cornucopia Cluster."

"Couldn't they be headed out to find new planets?" asked Raivyn. "Why pick a fight over Gateway if the Cluster is so rich in resources?"

"Because the planet is aptly named," answered Jasken. "Thus far, Gateway appears to be a kind of choke point. While a multitude of worlds have been identified beyond it, no one has ships powerful enough to make direct jumps to them without stopping along the way. The planet is possibly the only viable staging ground for exploration within the Cluster.

"Thus far the Shairet, the insectoid race you met on Gateway, have been happy to host any nation wishing to utilize Gateway, but if the Astralbians are looking to reform their empire we may be looking at a war for the planet."

"You said we were called, as in Talon Squad specifically?" asked Raivyn.

"Yes," said Jasken with a sigh. "The Wingspan is still down for repairs. Talon Squad is being reassigned to the Halberd for the time being. You'll be under Captain Kesht's command for the duration. For now, the plan is to fortify Gateway and then to start exploring the Cluster in earnest when the Wingspan is fully operational. You leave in seven days."

***

Jylik looked out over the gathered fleet. More than two dozen star trees, all flying the green and blue banners of the Astralbian Empire. His empire. He smiled at the thought.

The ten oldest, largest trees boasted great eyes, one of the most powerful weapons the tree priests could grow.

"It's a magnificent sight, your highness," said a voice from behind him. He turned to see a tall, slender Astralbian female with sharp features and bright, burning eyes.

"Lady Trilia," said Jylik. "and in person, no less. What brings you here?"

Trilia walked up beside him. "My lord, the fleet is ready, and Renyan is in place as your Steward in your absence."

"You could have told me as much through the communication network," pressed Jylik.

"I have been your loyal advisor," she said, bowing her head and looking at the floor in a show of respect. "And I have this advice for you: do not take Lady Elyana as your queen. She and her house were loyal to your father."

Jylik cocked his head to one side. "Who says I have considered Lady Elyana?"

"It is the latest rumor among the nobles," replied Trilia.

"It is nothing more. Elyana's father and mother have wished us wedded for our entire lives. I will choose my own consort in my own time." Here Jylik paused and looked at Trilia.

"Who would you advise me to choose?"

"Oh, my lord, that is not for me to say," she said suddenly.

Jylik nodded, holding back a smile. "I have one more thing to do before we depart."

Trilia followed him as he walked down from the airfield to the sacred grove, a jar in his hands. He sloshed the contents of the jar onto the trunks of the trees, coating them in a viscous fluid. If this was one of the old rituals, Trilia did not know it. Then the new king did something truly sacreligious. He unceremoniously pulled a lighter from his coat and lit the sacred grove aflame, the propellant he'd splashed onto the trunks igniting with a ferocious roar. Trilia's eyes went wide with delight as he took her hand and led her from the desecrated holy place.

The guards around the edges of the grove fled for their lives, and a panicked group of tree priests rushed to see what could be done to save the Grove.

"When I return, I expect to see a tower of stone taller than any tree on Astralbia standing in that grove, with a wide enough roof atop it that I will be able to land my star tree on it."

The tree priests looked at one another in horror. "We cannot do such a thing, my lord!" said one of the priests, "What would your ancestors-"

Trilia pulled her saber and slashed the priest's arm off.

"The ancestors are dead!" she exclaimed. "Build the tower!"

"Right away, my lady!" said the priest in a tone that fought back pain and panic, clutching the sparking stump of his arm. "It will be as you say, my lord!"

The tree priests scurried away.

"Was that necessary?" asked Jylik calmly.

"Not strictly," said Trilia. "But it seemed to drive the point home."

"So it did," replied Jylik, his face a mask of calm. "So it did."

***

Far from Astralbia, another fleet floated through the void. The large gunships at the head of it were the massive metal galleons typical of the Ramshackle Collective, with upper decks exposed to the aether and massive, sail-like structures reaching up into the emptiness to capture solar and cosmic radiation for power. However, these ships and the motley fleet that followed behind were painted in stark white and black rather than the red hues of the Collective.

Admiral Crush, leader of the Free Revolutionary Fleet, stood at the prow of the Liberty, her fleet's flagship.

She had been working with Yrinla, the Astralbian tree priestess who had recently joined her efforts, trying to tease out her latent psychic abilities through training. There had been no progress, and she had stormed out of the quiet room dedicated to her training to stand out in the open for a while.

"You must be patient, Crush," said the aged Astralbian, joining her on the deck. "You clearly have psychic giftings, but a few months is not enough time to develop your skills appreciably."

"They haven't developed at all!" huffed Crush, crossing her arms and pouting like a child.

"You are a unique case," replied Yrinla. "Robots are not supposed to be psychic unless fitted with certain hardware, yet you can control a star tree, something only those with latent or manifest psychic abilities are capable of doing. You must be patient if we are to discover the full nature of your abilities."

Crush stared off into the aether. The elderly tree priestess had shown up unannounced aboard the Liberty in the aftermath of the battle over Gateway. She had been promptly escorted to the brig and kept there until Crush was satisfied that she had truly abandoned the Astralbian Kingdom. She clearly had no love for the dictatorial monarchy, but Crush still believed there were things the priestess was hiding. Nonetheless, she had agreed to help Crush both upgrade her star tree and try to train her in the psychic arts.

“Perhaps we take a break from training,” said Crush, eyeing the priestess. “And you tell me what you’re hoping to find out here in the Cluster, or the Cradle, as you call it.”

“A myth,” said Yrinla with a faint smile.

“You are either mad or speaking in riddles,” said Crush impatiently.

Yrinla sighed. “There are stories passed down from priest to priest, stories that we do not share at the public gatherings.

“Did you know that the royal family was once a small cult dedicated to ancestor worship? At that time, the tree priests presided over the dominant religion, utterly separate from the warlords gaining power on the fringes of society.

“The priests said that we came from the stars on the ancient star trees, that Astralbia, the world we called home, was not where our kind originated. Our birthplace was the Cradle - a fertile world or region of the galaxy, home to many aether beasts.

“Eventually the ancestor-worshiping warlords consolidated enough political power to put all of Astralbia under their control. Rather than disbanding the tree priests, they brought them into their court, doing away with the old religion but keeping the clergy in places of power as priests of the ancestors and as sorcerers – or scientists, if you like – to continue to develop star trees and other biological technologies.

“My hope is to find evidence of my people’s ancient home. A strange feeling told me that it would be connected to the mystery of the psychic Robot I had heard rumors of. Time will tell if that something was right, or if I am indeed a mad old priestess.”