After saying a quick goodbye to Crush and Hrake, Talon Squad boarded the Wingspan and the fleet took off for Gateway. From there it would be a grinding journey back through established bases and already-explored parts of worlds they'd been to before.

More often than not, silence reigned at the lunch table. During one such solemn occasion, while Vanbrook chewed on a particularly tough and starchy febii root, Lawbine broke the silence.

“You think you could ever live in just one place, Van?” he asked.

Vanbrook chewed hardily for a moment and swallowed hard. “Maybe. If it was the right place.”

“You just seem like the restless, wandering type,” said Lawbine. “Get a lot of your kind through Aerat.”

Raivyn seemed more attentive suddenly. Vanbrook weighed his words carefully, sensing a trap.

“Maybe you've just got me wrong,” he said as noncommittally and nonchalantly as he could. “I'm just getting my traveling in a while before I get tied down.”

An involuntary groan of disappointment escaped Reclan's lips and Raivyn turned her attention towards her own febii root.

“See?” noted Lawbine, pointing his fork at Vanbrook. “Some folks are just wanderers at heart. What some see as starting a life, others see as being tied down. I knew I had you pegged.”

Vanbrook returned sullenly to his meal. Lawbine had been putting a lot of points on the board as of late, and it was time he started upping his game. For the time being, all Vanbrook could think to do was keep his mouth shut to make sure he didn't cause himself any more trouble.

“Are you Vanbrook, the man who killed Sir Traelby in single combat?”

Taken off guard by the question, Vanbrook turned to see the asker. It was the Telton pilot, Riventius. His ship, the Vahsing was docked to the Wingspan and the refugees had been given permission to access the galley and dine with the crew.

“Uh, yeah,” answered Vanbrook.

“And I am Riventius,” he replied excitedly. “This is almost as great as meeting Textbook himself. Heroes abound!”

Vanbrook chuckled. “Almost as good as Textbook is a high compliment.”

“Indeed!” said Riventius. “I am a pilot and so favor the pilots. But were I a swordsman, I would surely favor your exploits! Against a powerful psychic, I might add! Most impressive that he did not kill you with his mind.”

Raivyn couldn’t entirely suppress the smile that rose on her face. She had stopped Traelby from using his psychic abilities in the fatal duel. She didn’t manipulate him beyond that, but she made sure he fought fair. It was a secret she fully intended to take to her grave.

“Traelby was once stationed on Shumriven,” continued Riventius, his face darkening. “He was a cruel master, slaying psychic Teltons where he found them, often by puppeteering a loved one into performing the act themselves. The galaxy burns brighter with his spark removed from it.”

“Yeah, he was a real piece of work,” said Vanbrook.

“Indeed,” said Riventius, nodding seriously. “It is an honor to meet you, as well as the rest of Talon Squad.” He bowed slightly to the table at large. “However, I must get back to the Vahsing. I’m not sure she is aether-worthy anymore, but I plan to hire her out as a cargo vessel once I am settled on Griffonia.”

“Sounds like you’re not planning to settle at all,” said Lawbine. “Some folks are just like that, like I was saying.”

“Oh, I look forward to seeing Griffonia,” said Riventius, a fire in his eyes. “But I look forward more so to returning to Shumriven and seeing it a free world once more. Good day, Talon Squad!”

With a swish of his tail, the eager young Telton rounded about and marched for the door.

“Well, he’s something,” said Vanbrook when he was out of earshot.

“Him and his family built that rustbucket,” said Reclan. “He’s got more pluck than a string quartet.”

“The galaxy could use more like him,” said Raivyn.

“Yeah,” said Vanbrook with a smile. “And, knowing he’s out there patrolling things, maybe I’d be a little freer to settle down.”

Raivyn smiled over at him.

Vanbrook smiled and went back to chewing his febii root. Maybe he could play this game after all.

***

Hrake stood looking at the Erhk and Rerhk with Crush. They had spent a few days tinkering with the design of the lower decks trying to improve the livability for biological life, but the entire design of the ship seemed set against it. Larger Ramshackle ships, such as these two, typically had a brig designed to hold biological prisoners, but the life support system was absolutely an afterthought and not designed to support life for extended journeys. It was proving hard to adapt the ship without essentially building a new one over the old.

“You could put a bubble around the deck area,” said Crush thoughtfully. “But that would interfere with the solar panels.”

“Perhaps these ships are limited in their utility,” said Hrake.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“To you, perhaps,” said Crush. “But are they for sale?”

Hrake shrugged and gave Crush an appraising look. “What do you have in mind?”

“I could use some of these components for my own project ship,” she said. “And for two Ramshackle gunships like these I could give you one Wabuluban-built ship from my own fleet. It’s more of a hauler than a combat ship, so it’s not as useful to the FRF as these ships could be, but would round out your own fleet nicely.”

“Hmm,” said Hrake. “Two ships for one? That does not seem an even trade.”

“I’ll throw in three Wabuluban fighters, all of which can be docked aboard the gunship in a compact hangar.”

Hrake nodded. “Show me the ships.”

***

Sweat dripped down Cynop’s face as he stood cowering before Farbin.

“I’m not an engineer!” he protested.

“Tell me how!” demanded Farbin, once again drilling a series of T-waves into the Dromean’s head. The light purple crystal on his forehead glowed as it amplified his psychic abilities.

Cynop cried out in pain. He’d been deliberately uncooperative with the interrogation. He really didn’t know much about how ripmed technology worked, but knowing he had information he could keep from his tormentor had opened up a new kind of strength he didn’t know he possessed.

“I will drag the information from your mind bit by bit,” threatened Farbin.

Cynop lifted his head, staring Farbin directly in the eye. “Try me.”

Taking a deep breath, Farbin pushed T-waves into Cynops mind, flowing inward, grasping, and pulling back out again. Dredging thoughts was a draining and tedious chore, but the stubborn Griffonian hadn’t left him much choice. He sorted through the fragmented thoughts he’d managed to tear from his victim’s mind.

“Ripmed… that’s what you call it,” said Farbin.

Cynop’s body slumped.

“Yes, I will get what I need,” said Farbin. “It is up to you how long and difficult a process it is.”

He inhaled again, readying himself for another round of dredging, but was interrupted by a drone who walked into the room.

“Harbinger Farbin,” said the drone in a monotone facsimile of a voice. “It is complete.”

“I will be back, prisoner,” said Farbin, turning from the room. “Consider the wisdom of making my next visit more pleasant for yourself.”

***

“What do we have?” asked Skritka as he walked into the war room. It was really just a conference room, long and well-lit with a table down the middle, with a collection of military and civilian leaders gathered around it. He hated all the military talk, but such was the life he’d chosen. He stood at the end of the table opposite the large screen Executor Grak-Yurp stood in front of.

“Captain Grepk, please bring the Prime Minister up to speed,” said Grak-Yurp.

“Yes, sir,” said Grepk, who could be seen on the screen as he piloted the Gladius back home. “There’s a hostile ship, or caravan or train or something like that, out there, Prime Minister Skritka. We didn’t recognize the race as any known sapient species, though it’s possible it was a human with genetic and cybernetic enhancements. The creature that spoke to us was accompanied by a number of mechanical soldiers, but they didn’t seem to be proper, sapient Robots.”

“So you spoke to them, face-to-face?” asked Skritka.

“I’ll start from the beginning,” said Grepk.

The Marine started from the first sign of the anomaly and explained in full detail the misadventures they’d had facing off against the invaders. Skritka rubbed his brow, his limbs feeling weak with dread. They’d managed to keep the Cornucopia War contained in foreign systems, and now an exterior threat just showed up to knock on their back door.

“Any thoughts on the weapons capability of the aether train?” he asked.

“No, sir,” said Grepk. “Not beyond the EM disruptor and the tractor beam. Their hand weapons were certainly powerful but not so much so that they could penetrate our armor in a single shot. We really don’t know the full extent of their capabilities.”

“Sir, we need to send a full military fleet at once,” said a Talpidarian admiral.

“Just to have them disabled the moment they’re in range?” asked the Defense Administrator, a female Krauqian. “Sending anything out to meet them just means we’re that much more vulnerable when they arrive!”

“We obviously need more information but I agree with the Administrator that a frontal assault is unwise,” said Skritka. “Executor? What do you recommend?”

“We should ready our entire fleet, call home any forces currently abroad that we can afford to, and spread our forces out to orbit around Griffonia. If we are only dealing with one ship, we may be able to flank them. Additionally, we should station a small fleet with deep scouting capabilities further out towards the train to capture what data we can while minimizing exposure.”

“See to that, Executor,” replied Skritka.

“Our forces are already on alert,” said Grak-Yurp. “We’ll be positioned within the hour.”

***

Darvik sat in his room deep within the Depot, mindlessly flipping cards out for a solitaire game. He’d stopped enjoying the game hours ago, but found himself at a loss for anything better to do. Working as part of Trebor’s task force kept him busy most of the time, but most cases he’d worked on were false alarms or unskilled would-be psychic thieves and con artists. Even so, there was still quite a bit of downtime and he could only spend so much of it practicing his psychic skills. He sighed and flipped another card. Not the one he needed, of course.

There was a knock at his door. He looked up in surprise, not responding for a moment. The knock was repeated.

“Darvik?” asked a voice.

It was Glynn. Darvik ran his fingers through his hair, looking in the mirror that hung over his desk. The motion did nothing to smooth out the rat’s nest that had come from not showering yet that day. He looked at himself with disgust.

“Uh, come in?” he asked.

“Is… that a question?” asked Glynn.

“Come in,” repeated Darvik more confidently.

The door opened and Glynn walked in, Yellup walking in right behind her on his mechanical legs. Darvik was less than enthused to see the walking wet blanket he was forced to spend most of his days with, but he wasn’t shocked, either. It made more sense than Glynn showing up unannounced for a social call.

“I take it you two are here on business,” said Darvik, turning his attention back to his cards.

“Yes,” said Glynn.

“So why not pay attention?” said Yellup.

“I am paying attention,” said Darvik, flipping another card. “Ha! Been wondering when the blue two would show up.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” said Yellup, crossing his tentacles and rolling his large eyes.

“Darvik,” said Glynn. “Criddek escaped.”

Darvik paused, looking up from his cards. “What did you say?”

***

Stepping up to the console for the final inspection, Farbin was pleased with what he saw. The generators located around the circumference of the ring were all working at peak efficiency, and the stress indicators were all reading low. He pressed the throttle, and the train advanced, leaving the ring behind.

Activating the rear-facing cameras, Farbin studied the ring one last time, making sure it was intact and built to specifications. Satisfied with the construction, Farbin lifted the silver lid off the large, purple button with a black dragon icon on it. Drawing a long breath, he pressed it.

The generators around the ring glowed green, building in intensity until they were a brilliant, pulsing white. There was a massive, crackling explosion and a silvery disc exploded inward from the ring, crashing together in the center and rippling violently. The shimmering surface slowly calmed until it was a perfect mirror, reflecting the train and the stars behind it.

Farbin nodded his satisfaction. The dragon’s maw was open. He could now speak directly with the Council. It was time to let his people know what he had found.