“What’s this all about?” demanded Trekna as he entered the chamber.

“I will answer that when this emergency session has been officially started, Representative Trekna,” said Prime Minister Skritka from the dias.

Skritka checked the tablet before him, checking if they had a quorum yet. Another member of the Major House checked in, and he looked up to see the screen on their empty chair light up, their face appearing as they joined the meeting remotely.

“And we have a quorum,” said Skritka aloud. “This emergency meeting concerning Astralbian aggression is officially in session.”

“So I repeat my question: what’s this all about!?” said Trekna.

Skritka rolled his eyes. “As you all know, our presence in the Cornucopia Cluster is concentrated on Gateway, along with allies from the PIC, Wabuluban Kingdom, and others. The Astralbians have appeared in the skies above the shared airfield and fired a warning shot, along with this message.”

Skritka pressed play, and Lord Wyven’s voice sounded over the chamber’s speakers.

“This is Lord Wyven of the Astralbian Empire.”

Skritka watched as a majority of faces became dark and furrowed. Good. They should be angry.

“The great eye blast that you just witnessed is your first and only warning. This world has been claimed by High Emperor Jylik of the Astralbian Empire.”

A few of the slower members of the Houses caught on, and the anger in the room became palpable.

“You will leave at once or face the full wrath of Emperor Jylik and his fleet.”

Anger erupted in the chambers, and it took Skritka a full minute to bring order back to the chamber.

“As we speak, the Blue Griffon Fleet is holding its ground alongside a fleet of Wabuluban warships and a handful of rather plucky haulers,” said Skritka.

“Why are they not waiting for permission to engage!?” demanded Trekna.

“Because they already have it,” shot back Skritka. “What we are here to discuss is not whether to stand on ground when facing an outrageous show of force, but whether or not we will declare war on the so-called Astralbian Empire!”

“Who gave them this permission?” asked Trekna, his mouthparts working furiously in a show of poorly-contained anger.

“Executor Grak-Yurp,” said Skritka with exaggerated patience.

“He can’t - ” started Trekna.

“He absolutely can, Trekna,” interrupted Skritka. “Dealing with emergent threats is one of his key duties. Unlike those politicians who waste time and preen for the cameras, the Prime Minister and Executor have to deal with problems in real time.”

A round of applause and a smattering of chuckles took the last of the wind out of Trekna’s sails.

“We will not vote on this matter tonight,” said Skritka. “Since declaring war is no light matter. However, there is much to discuss in the way of troop movement and other issues of combat-readiness, as Astralbian aggression is all but guaranteed, regardless of our policy. Let’s begin.”

***

Meanwhile, still in orbit over Gateway, Drixen and the others were rounding on their target again, ready to make another run at the Astralbian fleet’s mother tree. The tree was rotating in place, trying to turn the wound away from direct lines of fire.

“Blue Griffon fighter squads,” said an unfamiliar voice. “This is the Mayblin. Do you mind keeping a clear line of fire between us and that big ol’ hole you just opened up?”

“We can accommodate that for a moment,” said Drixen. “We’ve got what you might call a target-rich environment here.”

“Yes, sir,” responded the hauler with a laugh. “Folks? We got the okay. Ready emergency anti-pirate measures.”

Aboard the Wingspan, Jasken watched intently as one of the ship’s cameras focused in on the Mayblin. A cargo hatch opened and the nose of a missile, disproportionally large compared to the size of the vessel carrying it, peaked out.

“FIRE!”

The missile sailed through the aether, smashing a wasp or two as it honed in on the gaping hole in the mother tree.

When the missile hit its mark, fire exploded from the mother tree. When the fire was choked out in the vacuum or the aether, two halves could be seen floating: the roots sat smoldering and glowing below and the branches spun lazily above.

A cackling laugh came through the comms from the hauler. "That certainly packed a punch!"

"Officer Mairen," said Jasken coolly.

"Yes, Admiral?" asked the comms officer.

"It'd be a shame if any and all footage related to Aethercrate Hauling's 'emergency anti-pirate measures' was lost, don't you think?" asked Jasken.

"An absolute crying shame, sir," she replied, already tapping the delete button.

Seeing the mother tree destroyed, the other star trees brought their void wasps back into a defensive position. The Wabuluban fighters followed, harassing the wasps as they fell back. The fight became much tighter and more chaotic, but Drixen and his squads were able to weave through the battle and take out more great eyes and a few smaller star trees.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Jasken was watching with satisfaction as the Astralbian fleet was whittled away when a final great eye volley was fired. Threading the needle between the shields of the Gladius and the Halberd. It was nowhere near as powerful as the first two, but it shook the ship and sent sparks flying out of Jasken's console. He grunted and leapt up, backing away and watching the fried screen smoke, destroyed.

"That's it for our shields, Admiral," said Dekken. "A large enough handheld ballistic could finish them off now."

"Switch to travel shields," replied Jasken. "And pray we don't need them."

"Yes, sir," replied Dekken.

At that same moment, the Astralbian forces began fleeing. The void wasps returned to their home trees and then the trees all fired their root-like thrusters, blasting over their shoulders to the best of their ability.

"Do we chase them down, sir?" asked Drixen.

"Negative," said Jasken. "We have permission to stand our ground but not to pursue. Let them go."

"What about the salvage?" asked the pilot, referring to the two halves of the mother tree still floating in the aether.

"Don't worry, Commander, we'll see to that," answered Jasken.

***

Shortly thereafter, Talon Squad and Grepk's Marines were jumping out of the Gladius and making their way via jetpack to the smoldering ruins of the mother tree.

Normally well-lit by bioluminescent bulbs growing from the walls, the inside of the tree was surprisingly dark. Flipping on their headlamps and clamoring up through the destroyed lower layer of the top half of the tree, they found the inside scorched but largely intact.

"We clear each floor together," said Grepk. "Mag-boots won't help on wooden floors so use your jets to maneuver. Remember, Astralbians don't need atmo to live, so expect resistance. We're to take prisoners if poss-"

Halfway through the word "possible" a thorn gun blast slammed into the Marine's chest. He grunted, but between the strength of his armor and the range of the shot there was no serious damage.

"Enemy contact!" shouted Krum-Bahk.

All nine warriors turned their firearms in the direction of the attack, their lights illuminating a small group of Astralbian soldiers huddled in a doorway. They dove aside as a hail of fire filled the doorway, a few of them collapsing into death crystals as bullets and beams found their targets.

"I'll send in some scouts," said Reclan, firing up some drones and sending them through the door. "Looks like they're fleeing to the upper levels."

"Did we spook a few survivors or are we being led into a trap?" asked Raivyn.

Keshri shrugged. "We'll figure that out when we spring the trap."

The group continued on, floating through the mother tree and fighting small bands of soldiers. Floors were generally empty aside from the area immediately around the stairwells. One floor contained a nest of void wasps, but they were all still and quiet, evidently in some kind of stasis.

"The enemy is definitely gathering towards the upper floors," said Raivyn. "Looks like we're about to breach the command floor. What do we know about Lord Wyven?"

"He's a true believer," said Grepk. "I'm sure he was overjoyed to herald the newly reformed Empire. Not a particularly distinguished tactician but a master combatant. He'll be surrounded by proteges, no doubt."

The ceiling exploded into splinters and heavily armored Astralbians dove down to meet the Republic team.

"Guess these are them," said Vanbrook.

A dozen soldiers surrounded them, each carrying a large cutlass with an oversized thorn gun slung over their shoulder. Rather than the typical breastplate and bracers worn by most Astralbian soldiers, their armor covered most of their form, with thick green armored fabric filling the gaps. Only their burning blue eyes were visible.

Vanbrook fired a nova crystal round into the chest of the closest soldier, knocking him back and starting the melee. The soldier reeled but the armor held up, clearly more than simple steel. He rushed with the rest of his team, swinging his massive cutless at Vanbrook. Well prepared for the attack, Vanbrook parried the blow with his saber and stabbed at the shoulder joint that had been left exposed. The soldier twisted away and managed to dodge the worst of the strike.

Hrake blocked a blow with his hammer, his return strike crushing his opponent to the floor. Inexperienced in zero gravity combat, he struggled to put the power he normally would into the attack. Adapting, he allowed himself to spin and brought the butt of his hammer up to his arm, firing at his downed foe at point blank, tearing through his compromised armor and dispatching him.

Raivyn fired a T-bolt right into the eyes of an incoming attacker, sending him reeling back, gripping his head.

Keshri leapt into a saber strike, letting the blade bounce off her armor and ripping to the attacker's breastplate with her claws, a horrible rending sound reverberating through her arm.

"Whew, these guys are tough!" exclaimed Grepk, blocking a blade with his forearm and striking out with his opposite fist.

Krum-Bahk stood at his side, trying to hold back two attackers.

Reclan pulled her plasma cutter out and swung at the nearest foe, but she was parried and took a stab to her bicep. She cried out but kept fighting.

Doc stood behind D'Jarric, who was swinging energized fists, firing the energy barrel of his rifle to frustratingly little effect.

Vanbrook parried another strike, swept into the soldier's reach and raised his pistol, firing right into his eyes. The enemy puffed away and consolidated into a crystal.

Seeing their numbers thinning out, one of the soldiers pulled the thorn gun off his back and leveled it at the team. Krum-Bahk dove in the way and the blast glanced off his shoulder and helmet, leaving a few long splinters jutting out of the joints of his pauldron.

He turned and slammed his fist into the soldier, snatching the cutlass from his belt as he fell. He spun, parrying another soldier's strike. He brought the blade down hard, severing the soldier's arm at the shoulder.

"Woah, these bad boys are sharp!" he exclaimed.

"Tell me about it!" said Reclan, glancing at her wounded arm. The self-healing aethersuit had covered both the wound and the tear with a seam of medicated gel.

The fight wound down quickly as the supposedly elite Astralbians were picked off one by one. Soon only three were left standing.

"Enough!" The voice was thin and attenuated but carried a sense of authority. The remaining combatants looked up to see an elderly Astralbian lord looking down on them. He clambered down the broken remains of the ceiling and laid his weapons down at his enemies' feet.

"I am Lord Wyven," he declared. "The Ancestor's Grove is burnt, my fleet has abandoned me and now the best trained soldiers under my command have been torn apart by barbarous worms. I would die for Astralbia, but I will not die for this Empire."

After a quick sweep of the upper floor the Marines took their prisoners back to the Wingspan while Talon Squad went to clear the lower decks, down from the entrance and into the dungeons below.

Raivyn was the only one to have ever been held in an Astralbian brig and acted as their guide. The forces had all been concentrated in the upper portion of the tree, so the built-in defenses were the only possible concern. As it turned out, the tentacled masses that grew from the ceiling that kept prisoners from moving outside of their designated cell areas hung limp, killed along with the rest of the ship.

The rough wooden dungeon wound through the base of the tree, down towards the roots. Shining their light into the final cell, they saw a wavering Astralbian female sitting huddled in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest.

"I guess old Wyvie lost," she said, a note of mockery in her voice. "Is he dead?"

"No," said Raivyn. "Came in as a prisoner."

"That's a shame," said the Astralbian as she stood up and floated over to them. She wore a silver breastplate and a matching band on her head with a wasp head embossed on it. "All I ask is that you don't put me in the same cell."

"My prodigious deductive faculties lead me to believe you have some issues with Lord Wyven," said Vanbrook. "Care to share?"

She shrugged. "I was less than exuberant when the new Empire was announced. He tossed me in here to give me time to rethink my position."

"I take it by your headband that you rank pretty high on the ship," said Raivyn. "Not a tree priestess or a lady but an officer of some kind–is that right?"

She smiled. "Yes. Commander Glinya, Wasp Rider. Now, I'm afraid that's all you get out of me until we're back on your ship and I'm in a more comfortable cell."