A bolt hovered in midair for a moment before falling to the deck of the Liberty with a small clink. Elated, Crush looked sincerely at Yrinla.

"Well done, Admiral!" exclaimed the tree priestess. "You've made exceptional progress."

The Free Revolutionary Fleet had landed on a small rocky world in the Cornucopia Cluster to address some maintenance issues, and Crush had taken the downtime to practice her telekinesis.

She reached out once again with her mind, trying to grasp the bolt, but her comm buzzed, breaking her concentration.

"Captain Hacksaw," she said, greeting her officer. "What's the status on repairs?"

"All completed, Admiral," answered Hacksaw. "We're ready to take off and, as a matter of fact, we've got a small job lined up."

"Hmm. How small?" she asked thoughtfully.

"It's another pirate issue in Baron Flubbyn's territory. This time it's a seek-and-destroy order concerning a single independent pirate ship."

"Send the Liberty under Captain Tank's command, along with a support ship and plenty of boarding skiffs and munitions," she said decisively. "The whole fleet won't be needed for that."

"Are you sure, Admiral?" asked Hacksaw. "We won't find much work way out here."

"Maybe not yet, but the Cluster is going to draw explorers and settlers by millions," answered Crush. "It may pay handsomely to have a base of operations in the area."

"Of course, Admiral. But you may want to give Flubbyn a call personally. Wabuluban aristocrats expect to talk directly to those they do business with and are notoriously sensitive about it."

"Thank you, Captain, I will be sure to do so," said Crush.

Ending the comm, she looked to Yrinla. "Sorry, business before training."

"I understand," she replied. "Perhaps it's time we stop for today, regardless. The world we've landed on is fairly barren, but I've been able to extract the minerals necessary to grow a deep aether scanner in your tree. The lack of atmosphere has allowed the tree to absorb far more solar radiation than would be possible on a more vibrant world with an atmosphere."

“Will that help you find your people’s homeland?” asked Crush.

“I believe so,” said Yrinla. “I’ll be looking for certain atmospheric signatures that could indicate the appropriate conditions for star tree growth. The search could take hours or months. Sifting through possible worlds could take months or years.”

Crush looked intently at the elderly priestess. She would have preferred that she had boosted the weapons capabilities of the tree, or maybe thickened the shielding. However, she never would have scratched the surface of her abilities without Yrinla’s help.

“We can continue training another time,” said Crush. “Let me know what you find.”

***

Chewing on the end of a stylus, Chully looked sullenly out of one of the Gladius’s viewports as T’Lakia came into view. It was a small, dirty-white ice ball with no atmosphere to speak of. At least the size would make it easier to scan for infrastructure.

Worlds like this always made Chully miss Kerucester. He had no interest in deep space exploration. Leave that to the Navy. He was a detective, not a pioneer.

“I love seeing new worlds,” said Grepk, walking up beside Chully to look out the viewport.

Chully turned to him, a reproachful look on his face.

“The scanners are all on,” said Grepk, ignoring the side-eyed glance he was getting. “If there’s any notable infrastructure here we should be aware of it in the next couple of hours.”

“And I trust you won’t be blowing this entire ice ball to smithereens if we find something?” asked Chully.

Grepk’s attitude chilled suddenly. “I know my job, Agent. This isn’t the first time I’ve lost someone. I won’t engage without just cause, and I doubt they’ll give it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Chully coolly without looking over.

A comm alert sounded, breaking the tension between the two. Grepk walked up to the bridge to see what the call was about, Chully following close behind. Huluna was already on the bridge tapping away at the communications and scanner screen. The contact information was unknown, but the source was local.

“Looks like they found us first,” said Grepk, answering the comm.

A grumpy looking Krauqian female appeared on the screen. “You are in sovereign Koomite territory. Leave immediately.”

“Funny you should mention sovereign territory,” replied Grepk. “We had an unscheduled visit from some friends of yours on Hruduk. Came right on to our ship, if you can believe that. Wondered if maybe you’d seen them?”

“I repeat, you are in sovereign Koomite territory. Leave immediately,” said the Krauqian. This time the tone was more menacing.

“Alright,” said Grepk in mock-defeat. “We’ll just swing around your world and be on our way.”

“You will leave immediately,” demanded the Koomite.

“Immediately after we swing around, the Code allows us that much,” said Grepk casually. “You are a Code-abiding nation, are you not?”

The Krauquian was visibly shaking with anger when she terminated the call.

Grepk’s antennae tilted up in a self-satisfied smile. “Agent Huluna, do we have a location?”

“Yes, we should be in view of their station shortly, and we should be able to gather some intel as we pass by,” said Huluna. “Shields are at full capacity so if they want to get shooty we’ll be ready for them.”

***

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Darvik looked down at T’Lakia Station as their ship took off, preparing to jump with another ship of civilians making the pilgrimage to Koomia. The first stop was Gateway, where they’d have to take on water and recharge travel shields.

A bright spot appeared over the horizon, presumably the Gladius. Darvik shook his head. Let them take a look. Their precious Code would keep them from doing anything more.

The jump to Koomia was a long one, but it had been well-traveled by now and most of the shield-shattering debris had been cleared from the route. Bored to tears during the jump and unwilling to spend more time with his companions than absolutely necessary, Darvik had taken to exercising in the cargo room when he wasn’t passed out in his bunk.

One day, when they had nearly reached Gateway, Cevla stopped by to talk to him.

“Hey, stranger,” she said.

Darvik rolled his eyes and turned away, practicing a sword drill.

“C’mon, I can’t take another conversation with Rentra,” she said amiably. “It’s not that he’s a bad guy, it’s just that he has all the personality and charm of an asteroid.”

“Look, I keep to myself,” said Darvik. He winced, a sudden, passing headache bothering him for a moment. “Try it some time.”

Cevla snorted and turned from the room. Then she cried out and collapsed to the floor, holding her head. Darvik dropped his saber and ran over.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly.

“Something- something’s out there!” she cried, voice thick with panic. Then she collapsed, out cold.

***

The Wingspan came out of its jump with Gateway in view. The other members of the Blue Griffon Fleet followed close behind, and the Gladius was supposed to be meeting them shortly, though their detour to T’Lakia would cost them a few days.

Landing on the crowded airfield around the once-tranquil lake Talon Squad had crashed into a few months ago, Jasken exited the Wingspan with Fenrik.

"Admiral, Captain," said a Wabuluban with purple and blue mottled skin and a clipboard, marching up to them on mechanical legs the moment they stepped off their ramp.

"General Grubula, I presume?" asked Jasken.

"Yes," responded the glassy-eyed general. "Head of the Gateway joint task force command. As you can see, our landing zone is lousy with opponents and competition." He gestured vaguely to the shipyard, which was packed with Griffon Republic ships as well as those of the PIC, the Wabuluban Kingdom, and a smattering of other smaller nations and factions, all looking to explore and leverage the Cornucopia Cluster. Members of those same factions bustled around the field, going about their business.

"The locals refuse to grant land rights even on a temporary basis," grumbled Grubula, "so there's no way to peacefully clear the scum-sucking profiteers out, despite the fact that we were the first ones here."

Jasken nodded noncommittally. "After topping off our water supply, we intend to keep the Blue Griffin Fleet in orbit as a deterrent to Naval attacks until additional forces arrive or the tensions ease up. After that, we hope to return to the Fleet's primary objective of exploration."

"And if there's war?" asked Grubula knowingly.

"We'll ease the tension by driving the enemy away then, won't we?" responded Jasken coolly.

Grubula nodded agreeably. For a Wabuluban this essentially meant rocking their entire octopus-like body back and forth atop their mechanical legs. If Jasken saw any humor in the display, it did not show on his face.

"I understand the Shairet have been very hospitable, despite the land rights issue?" asked Jasken.

Grubula shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose. They won't work with psychics. Scared of them, I suppose, which I daresay I understand. They're also skittish and struggle with the Talpaertan language. Their mouths are more like the Raki than other humanoids, so we brought on some language coaches from Kirakna."

"And can we understand or speak their language?"

Grubula shrugged. "A little. That's proving difficult as well, but the Code requires it."

So does common decency, thought Jasken, though he didn't say it.

***

Later that day, Talon Squad walked out onto the shore, looking around at the transformed landscape.

"Things look a little different than when we were first here," said Vanbrook casually.

"Indeed they do," said Hrake, pointing to a stone building rising from the lake. The small fortress was made entirely of stones no larger than a fist and glued together with a translucent mortar. There was a gangway of bamboo-like plants woven together that led to the fort's door.

An excited-looking Shairet emerged from the doorway and waved them over. He was typical of his species; thin, but not particularly tall, with four arms, a mottled yellow and green exoskeleton, and a long pair of antennae hanging out beyond his shoulders on either side of his head.

"They said you were coming soon. They said so," said the insectoid in a thick accent. He must have spent hours a day practicing to be so fluent in such a short time, but it was obvious from the loose formation of consonants that he still struggled to make the strange new sounds.. "Do you remember me, Hrake?"

At this point the Shairet held out one of its hands, holding out a Raki shell harp. Hrake smiled warmly.

"My friend from the cove!" he said.

"Yes, yes, that fateful day," said the Shairet. "I know your name now, of course, and with you are Doc Manford the Robot, Reclan the Dromean, D'Jarric the Solaran, and Raivyn and Vanbrook the Humans.

"My name, as well as could be put into your tongue, is Chreep. We are having such difficulty with the names! Our natural vocalizations are more like bird calls than ape howling, and many different names sound all too similar in your tongue, though they sound different enough in our own."

"Good to meet you, Chreep," said Hrake.

"Yes, yes," answered Chreep. "It is good. But please, come inside. There is much we would like to discuss with you.”

***

Darvik carried Cevla’s limp form to her bunk and tossed her in. He turned to leave, then sighed and checked her pulse and breathing. It looked like she was fine, though she would occasionally toss her head or turn over like she was having a nightmare. Again, he was about to leave when her eyes snapped open. Only, instead of Cevla’s blue eyes, all Darvik saw was glowing red. The crimson orbs stared blankly at the ceiling, and Cevla remained motionless on her bunk.

“Hey,” called Darvik over his comm to Rentra. “Cevla’s having some kind of episode. Seemed like she got a headache, now she’s comatose and her eyes are glowing, you know anything about this?”

“What?” came the reply. “Is this some stupid joke? Nevermind, I forgot you don’t have a sense of humor. You say her eyes are glowing?”

“Yeah,” said Darvik. “Do we call Koomia or what?”

“Nah, we’re supposed to stay quiet,” said Rentra dismissively. “Besides, what are they gonna tell us? As long as she stays quiet, we-”

“MAYDAY, MAYDAY,” came an emergency message, interrupting Rentra’s thought, “This is the Glory requesting immediate assistance!”

“Isn’t that the ship we launched from T’Lakia with?” asked Darvik, running up to the cockpit to join Rentra.

“Yeah, shut up and let ‘em talk,” answered Rentra.

“We have been- been pulled out of our jump,” continued the transmission. “Something has us- there’s-” the transmission cut off with a terrible scream.

“Can we call Koomia now!?” demanded Darvik.

Rentra frantically fired up the ripmed comms.

“Koomia, this is Rentra, come in!” he shouted.

“Rentra, why are you wasting energy on a ripmed call?” came Hoon-Kra’s voice.

“The Glory has been attacked, pulled out of a jump!” replied Rentra.

“Oh?” asked Hoon-Kra. “Then the rumors are true. T’Lak lives, and so very near us. Do not return to help the Glory. Those aboard are dead. They were made to face a power that they could not stand against. Let it be a lesson to us all: the beasts take what they want.”

“There’s more,” said Darvik. “It’s Cevla. She got a headache and collapsed just before we got the call. Then her eyes got all… spooky. She’s still in some kind of coma.”

“She- she communed with the beasts?” asked Hoon-Kra, awe in his voice. “All the more reason to come back immediately. I must speak with her at once.”

The transmission ended.