Crush's star tree raced across the surface of Cradle, three of the monarchs' guards along for the journey. According to Yrinla, "Cradle" was a close enough translation of the ancient Astralbian name for the world that they may as well use it.

"We'll be there shortly," said Crush, looking over at the three pincushions gathered around her control console. She was annoyed at how impenetrable their body language, much less their spoken language, was to her. Yrinla chimed and sang in Astralbian, and they responded in kind.

"They say they are excited to land," translated Yrinla, "and-"

"And that they are honored beyond words to be in my company," finished Crush, voice thick with annoyance. Every phrase the Astralbians had spoken ended with the phrase.

Yrinla laughed. "I can stop translating that part."

"I'll assume it's been said unless you tell me otherwise," said Crush flatly.

Shortly thereafter, Crush landed the star tree and walked down the ramp into the purple prairie, right at the edge of the woods that led up to the mountain that held their prize. The trip had taken a few hours, but would have been an impossibly long and difficult journey on foot, especially given the naturally slow movement of the Astralbians.

As Crush walked into the forest, a purple form bounded from the treetops, spread its wings, and glided down to her shoulder, where it stood comfortably and wrapped its brilliant blue and green ringed tail around its feet.

“You again, eh?” said Crush, plucking one of the fruits off the nearby tree and giving it to the batsquirrel.

The Astralbian guards shuddered and chimed for a moment.

“They are impressed with your ability to tame the beast,” said Yrinla. “They say it proves you are one of the great guardians.”

Crush nodded, laughing at the little creature on her shoulder. “I daresay he tamed me. There was a day I would have brushed him away immediately.”

“What’s changed?” asked Yrinla as they climbed up the incline of the mountain.

Crush shrugged. “I used to look out only for myself, but then, suddenly, I was Admiral of my own mutinous fleet. Caring for my people has forced me to… change my outlook, I suppose.”

Yrinla nodded, but said nothing.

The rest of the hike was silent aside from the sound of the batsquirrel gnawing on the hardened fruits Crush occasionally picked for him. Finally, they found the place they had been looking for. Yrinla walked up to the partially-exposed orb, brushing the dust off to reveal the tell-tale deep blue gleam of a core. The guards shook and chimed more violently than ever, but there was a pleasantness to the sound that told Crush they were celebrating.

“Happy to find the core?” she asked Yrinla.

“Elated,” said the tree priestess. “They say they must bring the King and Queen immediately, and that they must remove the core and begin mining the mountain as soon as possible.”

Crush nodded. “Lucky for them, I know some miners.”

***

Darvik had never been much of a patriot, but a well-founded hatred for the Astralbian Kingdom was just part of growing up on Griffonia. While the war had ended generations ago, the Astralbians never really stopped harassing the Republic. This in mind, Darvik stood ready to kill as many of the scumbags as he could get his hands on the second they started pouring through the doors.

He was shocked when Hoon-Kra walked up to the star tree and stood patiently waiting for the main door to open. When it did, a tall, elegant Astralbian noblewoman, wearing an armored green dress and an ornate silver crown, walked down the ramp with a complement of soldiers.

“Lady Trilia,” said Hoon-Kra with as much of a bow as his rotund form allowed. “You are early.”

“Things have moved quickly,” she said with a smile. “And it is Empress Trilia, my good Hoon-Kra.”

Hoon-Kra forced himself into a lower bow. “An honor to be in your presence, Empress.”

Darvik grudgingly moved his hand away from the hilt of his saber, approaching Hoon-Kra.

“What is the meaning of all this?” he asked.

Trilia glared at him.

“I will explain, Darvik,” said Hoo-Kra condescendingly. “But not now.”

“Ah,” said Trilia, recognition lighting up her face. “So this is Darvik. If you can teach him manners to match his swordsmanship he shall be a great asset to the Koomites.”

Darvik’s face soured. He wondered if he could kill the Empress before her guards killed him, and how Hoon-Kra would feel about it. Cold fingers stabbed into his skull. He looked angrily at Hoon-Kra but then his head was snapped to the side, his eyes locking onto Trilia’s.

Do not trifle with me, little worm, said her voice in his head.

The moment was over before Darvik understood what was happening. He looked again at Hoon-Kra, but if the high priest knew what had just happened he was doing a fantastic job of pretending he didn’t.

“Come, La- Empress Trilia,” said Hoon-Kra politely. “There is much to discuss. Perhaps we will see Darvik tonight. We will have a show of strength in your honor, of course.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” said the Empress.

Hoon-Kra marched towards the Swamp’s Pride, Trilia and her guards in tow. Darvik stared after them, unsure of what to make of it all.

***

When the Wingspan finally ended its jump and came to a stop over Kirakna, it was immediately hailed by the military fleet that was protecting the planet.

"This is Admiral Drai of the Silver Star Fleet. Is that the Wingspan?" asked an incredulous voice.

"Admiral Drai," replied Jasken. "Yes, this is the Wingspan, with Aethercrate Hauling's Mayblin and our own Shepherd docked to us, along with the Gladius."

"No Halberd, then?" asked Drai.

"Destroyed by the Astralbian Empire over Hruduk," said Jasken flatly. "No survivors."

"I am sorry to hear that, Admiral," replied Drai. "Of course every lost sailor is a tragedy and every lost ship is a shame, but I know it's a personal blow to you as well. Your friendship to and adventures with the late Captain Kesht are the stuff of legends."

"I appreciate the kind words, Admiral," said Jasken curtly. "I look forward to avenging ourselves on the Astralbians shortly."

"Absolutely," replied Drai. "For now, please proceed to the main hangar. The Prime Minister will be waiting to receive you."

"Thank you, Admiral," said Jasken.

Jasken was surprised that Stritka had made the trip out, and wasn't sure how ready he was to talk to him face-to-face.

Regardless, the diminutive Talpidarian stood at the bottom of the ramp, his pointed beard swaying in the artificial wind of Tra-Kirakna's domed city. A gaggle of reporters stood a ways off behind him, kept away from the airfield by a tall fence.

"Welcome back, Admiral," said Prime Minister Skritka. "I'm glad to see you alive and well."

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Prime Minister?" asked Jasken.

"I know that tone, Jasken," chided Skritka with a chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm here to greet King Hrynkak."

Jasken nodded. That made sense, and explained the presence of the press.

"Captain Hunt," said Jasken into his comm. "Please let King Hrynkak know that Prime Minister Stritka is here to greet him. Oh, and explain what the press is in case that catches him off guard."

Skritka nodded his thanks and the two stood by, waiting for the guest of honor. Moments later, King Hrynkak walked down the ramp, Hrake and the rest of Talon Squad serving as his honor guard.

"Your Majesty," said Skritka with a slight bow.

"Prime Minister Skritka," replied Hrynkak, returning the bow and then offering his hand.

Skritka shook it, smiling. "We can go directly to the mayor's mansion. He's allowed me to stay there during my visit and has extended an invitation to you, as well."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to stay in the mansion, but I will stay with my people," said Hrynkak. "And I do not intend to stay long. I must get back to the fight."

"Very well," said Skritka. "I hope you will at least come to the mansion to discuss the current situation and enjoy some Kiraknan cuisine."

***

"This is an outrage!" bellowed Hoon-Kra.

Trilia sat across from him in the parlor of his stateroom aboard the Swamp's Pride, idly looking over the decor. It was far too dark and musty for her tastes.

"How so?" she asked in a tone that dripped with boredom.

"You said Koomia would be mine," bit off Hoon-Kra, veins pulsing on his broad neck. "That the Astralbian Empire would be our allies, not our overlords!"

"To be allied with the Empire is to be subject to it," said Trilia. “Koomia, the city, is yours. And Koomia, the world, is mine, and all that I have belongs to the Astralbian Empire. Do you see how that works?"

"You have overplayed your hand, 'Empress!'" snarled Hoon-Kra.

She smiled broadly and honestly, though with a healthy dose of avarice. "No, I haven't. You have your city and your project intact. I will spread beast worship in the Empire. All you have to do is pay the Empire its due and all will be well.”

"And your Emperor is happy with this arrangement?" asked Hoon-Kra, settling angrily into his chair. He already knew he had lost this. She ruled over Koomia now, but his mind already began to work out how to leverage what he knew about her beliefs and actions against her with his new Emperor.

Trilia shrugged. "He gave me this world to run. So long as I don't jeopardize his power he will give me free reign."

And Hoon-Kra, said Trilia's voice in his mind. Before you go doing anything foolish, don't forget that, powerful as you may be, I can kill anyone I like, whenever I like. He struggled against the mental shackles she had slipped over his mind, but to no avail. He was a very powerful psychic. She was masterful. And that includes the High Priest of Koomia.

"Now," she said aloud, lifting the telekinetic stranglehold she’d held him in. "You mentioned a trip to the arena?"

***

Later that evening, after an excellent meal and a well deserved nap, Vanbrook found himself wandering the quieter parts of Tra-Kirakna once more. Of course, his comm was on this time.

"Hey, Vanbrook," said Raivyn, stepping up next to him on the rocky trail.

He nodded in silent greeting. He had seen her walking the trail behind him a while back, and had assumed she would simply walk past.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking out of the crystal clear dome that protected the city.

Vanbrook turned to her, confused.

"No one's ever accused me of being good with people," confessed Raivyn.

Vanbrook laughed. "It's an overrated skill."

“Please just take this seriously, Van,” demanded Raivyn.

“Alright. I’m sorry,” he said, hands up in a pose of surrender.

“Do you think we can…” Raivyn trailed off, searching for words. “Do you think we can not fight?”

Vanbrook shrugged, taken off guard by the question. “Do we fight that much?”

Raivyn stared at the ground. “Only everytime we start to… be friends.”

There was a long silence while the two squadmates stared out over the Kiraknan ocean. The waves crashed into the shore again and again in a vain attempt to take more ground, swept back out to sea every time, the drama painted in orange and purple by Kirakna's twin sunset.

"I do consider you a friend, Raivyn," said Vanbrook. He looked her in the eyes and held her gaze for a moment before looking away to the setting suns. "You know, everytime I see a sunset or sunrise I think of Hittania."

The two sat and watched the suns set, not daring to look one another in the eye. When the stars began to appear, Vanbrook stood up.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Raivyn nodded her assent, casting one last look over her shoulder at the last, red rim of the second sun as it dipped under the blackening sea. The pair walked back down the path together.