The slow grind of the return journey continued, and D’Jarric managed to seem unbothered by it all. The enigmatic Solarans had a habit of appearing to be at peace in any but the most dire circumstances, to the point that some electroecologists theorized that they simply processed and expressed emotions in a way unlike any other known sapient species.

Robots had a reputation for stoicism as well, but Doc always figured that had more to do with their limited facial movements than with any emotional disposition. Regardless, Doc found that a still, calm face could be both comforting to patients and unengaging enough to keep him out of petty conversations.

D’Jarric, however, was difficult to dissuade, and so Doc was perturbed when the Solaran prince sauntered up to him, clearly thinking something over. They had been sailing along for some time and Doc was just coming back from a stint on the Shepherd, where he'd been treating some of the refugees who were in bad shape from poorly treated injuries and malnutrition. He was ready to go relax and recharge for a bit, but it was clear he'd have to talk to D'Jarric first.

“Doc,” said D'Jarric. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Oh?” asked Doc, shooting for pleasant but noncommittal.

“I wondered what you thought about all that we witnessed on Cradle,” said D’Jarric.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” answered Doc.

“No I don’t,” said D’Jarric with a laugh. “You know what I’m asking you about. If Crush’s strange new form didn’t get to you, seeing those cores being dug up from their native soil certainly did.”

Doc shrugged. “What can I say? So much of what I thought I knew about my people’s history turned out to be either false or woefully inadequate.”

“But now that you know that, somehow, a core can be activated and the embedded intelligence brought forth without technology. How do you feel about that?”

“Utterly bewildered!” exclaimed Doc honestly. “I always left concerns about the metaphysical to those whose origins seemed supernatural. I was synthetic. Aware, yes, but synthetic. I could simply live my life, doing as my programming dictated. What now? Am I to believe I have… have a soul?” He turned away from D'Jarric and continued walking down the hall.

It was the most animated D’Jarric had ever seen his Robot friend, and he didn't have the heart to press him further.

As D'Jarric stood musing, a call went out over the public comms. “Senior officers please report to the bridge. Repeat, all senior officers to the bridge. Huh? What’s that Admiral? Oh, yes. This includes Talon Squad.”

Chuckling at Triflin's antics, D'Jarric trotted to catch up with Doc and the two of them hurried to the bridge together. When they reached the stairwell that led to the bridge, they found Lawbine leaning in the doorway.

“I'm hurt,” he said, stepping aside. “Whatever's going on, I'm not allowed to know about it. Guess I don't count as a full member of Talon Squad.”

“I'm sure you'll be brought up to speed shortly,” said D'Jarric, slapping the gunslinger’s shoulder as he passed.

When Doc and D'Jarric came up onto the bridge, they found Dekken standing by the Admiral's chair, his antennae twitching nervously. Triflin stood by his console, a worried look on his face. The commanding officers of the Shepherd and the Bombard were on the main display screen. Vanbrook, Raivyn, and Reclan stood in a semicircle, turning and nodding to their squadmates. Vanbrook gave a “your guess is as good as mine” shrug and turned to Dekken.

“What's going on, Dekk?” he asked.

“I'd like to wait until everyone's here,” responded the acting admiral.

Drixen jogged into the room, followed by Captain Fenrik, the Fleet's ranking Army officer in charge of long-term clayside operations.

“That's everybody,” said Triflin helpfully.

“Um, yes, so it is,” stammered Dekken. He was not used to addressing his fellow Officers like this, and the news he had to deliver was weighing heavy on his mind. “An unknown hostile possessing advanced tech is currently stationed less than a lightyear from Griffonia.”

Silence reigned for a moment, as Dekken pressed a button, revealing a blurry picture Grepk had snapped of the invader when he was aboard their vessel.

“What does ‘advanced tech’ mean here?” asked Drixen.

“They were able to disrupt nearly every electrical system aboard the two ships that approached it, and then dragged them in with some kind of tractor beam. The first ship, the Dart, was destroyed and the crew is reported lost. The second was the Gladius, and they managed a narrow escape. We really don't know what they're capable of.”

“Are we headed back to fight them?” asked Raivyn.

“Not just yet,” said Dekken. “We're going to be coordinating with allies, trying to garner support for what could be a coming war.”

“And you will continue to act as admiral for the duration?” asked Fenrik.

“Until I get orders otherwise, Captain,” said Dekken sternly. He didn’t want the command, but it had fallen to him all the same. “In a larger, more combat-focused fleet, the chain of command may have had more stops between the Admiral and the flagship’s chief engineer, but the Blue Griffon Fleet was built for exploration.”

“I mean no offense,” said Fenrik, holding his hands up.

Dekken nodded. “I understand your concerns, spoken or otherwise. I will be leaning heavily on Captains Yulun and Griezen for advice and leadership.”

“You have our full support, Chief Dekken,” said Yulun from the display screen.

Griezen nodded her assent from the frame next to Yulun’s.

For the next few minutes, Dekken detailed all the information they had on the enemies, which wasn’t much. Everyone on the bridge was exchanging nervous looks, all of them chewing over questions they couldn’t quite put to words.

D’Jarric approached the image on the screen slowly, as if he was scared it would run away if he made it nervous. He studied the blurred image of a serpent wrapped around an orb that adorned the invader’s belt.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“See something you recognize, D’Jarric?” asked Dekken.

“This symbol… it is reminiscent of the Koomite insignia, is it not?” he asked.

Everyone studied the image D’Jarric was pointing to.

“Maybe?” said Vanbrook uncertainly.

“Lots of cultures use images of serpents or similar creatures wrapped in a circle,” said Raivyn. “It’s just one of those things.”

“Yes,” said D’Jarric, his brow knitting in thought. “But from where does the image originate, if it is spread throughout the galaxy?”

Vanbrook shrugged. “You’d know better than us, DJ.”

D’Jarric nodded, and the look of anxious concentration melted away.

“Alright, that’s all I have for you,” said Dekken, looking at D’Jarric with uncertainty. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare a general announcement to explain the situation. Captains, I’ll be contacting you shortly to discuss our trajectory and strategy. Providence shine on us all.”

***

“What’s the report from the deep scouting team?” asked Skritka.

“There’s not too much they can say without getting closer, which, again, I advise against,” said Sta-Kwi, the Defense Administrator. “Their data is old as soon as they get it, since they’re still a few light-weeks out from the hostiles. They did not manage to capture video of the Dart being brought aboard, since that information was already past by the time the scopes were close enough to see the hostile ship in any detail. The second encounter, including the Marines blowing up the hangar, should be intercepted soon.”

“We have most of that information already, both from the Marine’s accounts and the Gladius’ recordings,” noted Skritka.

Sta-Kwi sighed. “I know, Sir. But the scopes can’t make heads or tails of the ship, or whatever it is, itself. There’s no obvious engine we can recognize, though our analysts are fairly certain one of the ‘train cars’ is producing the strange purple field around the train, and that it’s probably the source of propulsion. We’re no closer to understanding the massive ring around it than we were when we started looking into it.”

“Alright. Even if it’s ‘nothing’s changed’ I want a report every half hour,” said Skritka.

“Yes, sir,” replied the Administrator.

***

A slight figure bolted from a doorway in a dimly-lit street on the south side of Kerucester. A trashcan spilled out of a nearby alley with a crash as a second, larger figure in a long, dark coat sprang from the shadows. The chase was short, and before the slight figure had made it across the street, the larger figure tackled it to the ground. There was no real struggle, just some pleading and whining from the tackled figure.

The larger figure rose, bringing his quarry with him, yanking the other’s collar. The street lamp revealed Darvik’s face, gripping a sniveling Talpidarian by the collar. A street craft honked its horn at the strange scene, swerving around the two figures. Darvik looked over his shoulder and dragged his quarry over to the side of the street they’d come from. Trebor stood, hands in the pockets of his own long cloak, in the doorway the Talpidarian had fled out of, and Yellup strolled out of an alley on the far side of the street.

“Officer Griv?” asked Trebor, stepping down from the doorway, closing the door behind him.

Griv looked around, desperate for some trick or miracle to free him from Darvik’s iron grip.

“Don’t make him ask again,” snarled Darvik.

Griv shuddered at the heavy menace in Darvik’s voice. “Yes, yeah, that’s me. Officer Griv. What’s, uh, what’s this about?” He looked at the patch on Trebor’s coat, the image of a red trillion cut gemstone. “What did I do? I’m not even a psychic.”

“No, but Creddik is,” said Trebor darkly. “Where is he?”

“How- how should I know?” asked Griv.

“You disappeared the same night he did. After you walked him out of the building,” said Trebor.

“F-first I’m hearing of it,” said Griv. “He must have gotten me pretty good.”

“No, no,” said Trebor with a mirthless chuckle. “Someone had to turn off the T-suppressive field first. And we know it was you. I don’t doubt that he did a number on you after that, but when you came to, you went to ground.” He jerked his head back, indicating the apartment building he’d flushed Griv out of. “We always check with the exes. You’re an officer. You should have known that much.”

Griv hung his head. “I want to talk to a lawyer.”

“Tell us what you know, that’s your best play,” said Trebor.

“I don’t know anything,” said Griv. “And I want a lawyer.”

Darvik shook his head. The poor fool probably didn’t know anything. All that meant was he was going to trial with no bargaining chips, and that they were no closer to tracking down Creddik.

***

Farbin had pulled far enough away from the ring that he could see the entire circumference of it from the back car. The communications beam was aimed directly at the portal, and he stood at the console, taking a deep breath before reaching out via T-waves for the console, his message beamed through the portal and directly to its destination.

Greetings, honored Council, he said.

Farbin. What world do you offer our people? came the response. The ‘voice’ was a familiar one. He felt the presence of the other members of the Council, but only Hagan was speaking to him.

Councilor Hagan, he replied. The world is rich in resources and food. Our people may come out of hibernation for some time to subsist on its bounty. It is called Griffonia by its people, a resourceful and space-faring coalition of many species. They are no threat to us, but there is one thing we may learn from them: the secret to faster-than-light travel.

There was a pause. That is not possible, Farbin.

They have found a way, said Farbin. They are guilesome and among the smarter peoples we've conquered. They have–or the prisoner I have been interrogating believes they have–adapted the abilities of a tree that travels faster than light in the spreading of its seeds.

Such trees are a myth and a heresy, Herald, warned Hagan.

As I said, clarified Farbin. It is what they believe. But it is true enough that they can do it. I blamed faulty equipment until I saw it myself. A ship vanished from view suddenly, and my sensors again reported it traveling faster than light. It was then that I interrogated the prisoner. He did not offer information willingly but I was able to dredge it from him.

And is the prisoner still alive? asked Hagan.

No, answered Farbin. Though his utility has run out.

Very well, said Hagan. If you are correct about their technology we must acquire it for ourselves. Do you have one of their ships?

No, answered Farbin truthfully. I had two; one escaped and scuttled the other.

That does not give us much reason to trust you going forward, noted Hagan.

I underestimated their resourcefulness, explained Farbin. They were able to jumpstart a disrupted vehicle and then flee. Such tactics won't work when they are cornered on their planet, though their brightest will make excellent slaves.

Very well, Herald, said Hagan. We will send a double fleet for your campaign. Bring us a ship in addition to the normal tribute of resources. Our people must not starve.

Thank you, Councilor Hagan. Thank you, Council, said Farbin. I will not fail our people.