Farbin sat in the straight-backed metal chair that faced the train’s main console, the audio jack plugged directly into the side of his head. He was listening intently to what he believed to be a news report from the newly discovered world. Monitoring the broadcasts coming out of the planet had proven interesting. Farbin had begun to work out patterns in the language or, more accurately, languages being spoken. It was still a jumbled mess to him, but the conventions of the languages were beginning to take shape as he studied them.
He was reasonably certain that the planet was called “Greefonya” or something close to that. If he could only abduct a native speaker, he would be able to crack the language quite quickly. That came with risks, though. A civilization this advanced would likely see his ship coming, and he wasn’t prepared to reveal his presence yet. The less warning they had the better. He could wait out in the aether, hoping that one of their ships would pass by, but if there was any civilization worth traveling to behind him, the train would have stopped and pulled him from his slumber when he had come across it, so it was unlikely any ships would be traveling this direction from Greefonya.
Sighing, Farbin turned off the news report and walked back through the stark metal cabin of his car. Passing through the agricultural car he turned on the fungal and botanical production protocols but left the beasts alone for now. His biological components would need nourishment, but the beasts would not be needed until the invasion had begun in earnest, so they could remain in stasis for now.
However, it was past time to begin constructing the portal. He had collected more than enough data to indicate that the planet was rich in resources and inhabited by a technologically inferior civilization. He walked to the rearmost car and pressed the button that activated the construction drones. They would perform most of the work without any direct oversight, but it was Farbin’s duty to keep watch over the drone’s work. He stood at the drone command console and watched the machines as they woke up, buzzed out into the aether, and began constructing the doorway that would allow his people to add this world to their empire.
***
The remainder of the jump to Hruduk played out similarly. Vanbrook tried to spend as much time as he could with Raivyn, and Lawbine seemed to find a way to be around just as often. The only difference now was that Hunt had seen fit to put Talon Squad to work scrubbing decks when they weren't running drills for the other sailors, which made it all the harder to spend time with Raivyn.
One day, when Hunt had Vanbrook and Reclan scrubbing a storage room floor, the Dromean stopped suddenly, leaned on her mop and eyed Vanbrook sternly.
“What!?” asked Vanbrook, exasperated after being under her gaze for nearly a minute.
“You're being ridiculous,” she said firmly.
Vanbrook looked around, at a loss. “I'm pretty sure I'm mopping like anyone else would.”
“I'm not talking about the mopping, I'm talking about the moping,” she said.
Vanbrook stared at her stupidly.
“You've had a frown on since we left the galley,” she said.
“I don't exactly love mopping,” he noted irritably.
“You are jealous, and it's going to get you into trouble.”
“He's infuriating,” spat Vanbrook, not bothering to deny the charge.
“Look,” said Reclan, crossing her arms. “All you have to do here is not let him get to you. I don't know if he's trying to steal Raivyn away from you or not, but I don't think for a second Raivyn's interested in ditching you for him. The fastest way to screw that up is to make an enemy of one of her old friends. Do. Not. Let. Him. Get. To. You. Clear?”
“Clear,” said Vanbrook with a resigned sigh. “Let's just finish this room up, okay?”
***
Back on Griffonia, Darvik had his feet up on his desk and his hands clasped behind his head. The office the RTS kept in Kerucester was a grim, spartan affair. It was windowless by virtue of being underground, and the lights running along the ceiling somehow managed to be both harsh and dim. Trebor didn't care much for creature comforts, and Darvik was pretty sure the man took some kind of sick pleasure from the discomfort the environment seemed to cause guests.
“You could pretend to have some sense of professionalism, you know,” said Yellup.
Darvik frowned and looked over at his fellow RTS agent. “I'm not a professional. I was press-ganged into service.”
“You got out of prison, if not standing on the business end of a firing squad,” retorted Yellup. “So maybe show a little gratitude.”
“Hey, I bagged the ‘Puppet Master,’” said Darvik. “I think I've earned my keep here.”
“Trebor ‘bagged’ him,” snarled Yellup. “You were just bait. I was watching the security footage; you nearly blew your own brains out.”
“Would you two knock it off,” barked Trebor, his voice brooking no argument. “And Darvik, get your feet off the desk. You're due for a telepathic skill development training shortly anyway.”
Darvik huffed and swung his feet to the floor, grabbing his long black coat and heading for the office door.
***
Vanbrook was happy when the Wingspan finally touched down on Hruduk. When he came down the ramp with the rest of Talon Squad, Hrake was waiting for them, hammer over his shoulder and a grin on his turtle-like face.
“Hrake!” shouted D'Jarric. “How goes it, friend?”
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“Very well!” bellowed the Hrudukite warrior. “How is my beloved Talon Squad?”
“Good as well,” said D'Jarric.
“And I have been replaced, I see,” said Hrake nodding to Lawbine with a smile.
“Kind of a crummy feeling, huh?” muttered Vanbrook, low enough that only Reclan, who was standing right next to him, could hear. She shot him a scornful “didn’t-I-tell-you-not-to” kind of look. He looked away as though he hadn’t said anything.
Lawbine reached out a hand and Hrake shook it. “Name’s Lawbine. Aeratan Army operative and an old friend of Raivyn's. Good to meet you Hrake. Heard many good things.”
Hrake nodded. “Glad to meet a friend of Raivyn's.”
Hunt walked up to the group.
“Admiral Hunt!” declared Hrake. “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“Same to you, Captain Hrake,” replied Hunt with a slight bow.
“Oh, Captain Hrake, is it?” asked Vanbrook.
Hrake smiled. “Yes. Captain of the Drihn, named after the Hrudukite word for ‘friend’ or ‘ally.’ We will have to look at the ship later. Before I can fly the ship, I must solve a problem for my first mate-to-be.
“Yes,” said Hunt. “Talon Squad, you will be working with Captain Hrake and Gred’s rangers in eliminating a bandit problem while the Wingspan recharges travel shields and takes on water. We pushed it getting here with as fast and far a jump as we made, so shields are lower than I'd like.
“Go with Hrake, he'll take you to see the rangers.”
Parting ways with Hunt, Talon Squad followed Hrake through the massive bronze gates of Gred, walking through the streets to the palace. Everywhere they went they were greeted by adoring crowds, to the point that Vanbrook felt a little uncomfortable about it.
Talon Squad in particular had been the first contact Hruduk had with their many neighbors throughout the galaxy, and the Griffon Republic had made a habit of coming to the rescue when the planet was in trouble.
Though the favor had been returned when a sizable army of Hrudukite warriors had helped retake Gateway, the general populace still adored the Republic.
Reaching the palace, Hrake led the party to a dining room where King Hrynkak sat with Dhraka and her rangers.
“Talon Squad!” declared the King, standing and giving them a slight bow. “D'Jarric. Raivyn. Vanbrook. Reclan. Doc Manford. And you must be Lawbine of Aerat. Welcome, all.”
The six warriors returned the bow.
“Come, sit and eat,” continued the King. “We will discuss the matter at hand.”
“King Hrynkak, Dhraka, it is good to see you,” said Raivyn. “Admiral Hunt says you have a bandit problem we could help with?”
The King looked to Dhraka. She nodded and began. “Yes. Bandits use travelers’ tools; guns, hoverbikes, such things,” her Talpaertan was rough, but passable. “Rangers mounted on hounds and armed with hammer-rifle struggle to fight them. We could kill all, but easier with help.”
Raivyn nodded. “And you know where the bandits are?”
“Yes, more or less,” offered Dhraka. “In caves along road to Sredik.”
“Could we just bomb the caves?” asked Vanbrook.
“No,” answered Hrynkak. “I will not use such weapons of war against simple bandits. I am not a god willing to smite my enemies from afar. I fear what such an act would make me look like. What such an act would, perhaps, make me.”
“I understand your concern, Your Majesty,” said Raivyn. “We will fight them warrior to warrior.”
Hrynkak nodded grimly. He was a steadfast ally, but the sudden changes thrust upon him as his people made the transition from bronze smithing to space travel concerned him deeply.
“Eat and rest, friends,” said the King. “I know day and night go unmarked in the aether, but you come to us as evening approaches. Dhraka will meet you tomorrow morning at the rangers’ stables.”
After a refreshing, talkative meal of fresh fruits, roasted meat, and moderate quantities of the notoriously strong wine the Hrudukites were fond of, Talon Squad retired for the night. Though invited to sleep in the palace, Talon Squad went back and slept in their own quarters aboard the Wingspan, per Admiral Hunt’s orders. Hunt was keeping a tighter leash on the squad than Vanbrook was accustomed to, and he was starting to feel choked by it.
***
Two Hrudukites pulled a wagon loaded down with tarp-covered goods along the road between Gred and Sredik. Though the two city-states had once been mortal enemies, tensions had thawed over recent years, and the attempt of the Astralbian Empire to take over the entire planet had solidified an alliance between the two. Once unthinkable, it was now common for merchants to make the trek between the two cities in the name of peaceful trade.
However, the two Hrudukites’ journey was interrupted suddenly when a bandit stepped out from behind a rock, standing astride the path, his hammer-rifle held out to his side, its butt resting on the ground as though it were a walking stick.
“What is this?” asked one of the wagon-pullers in the native tongue of the Hrudukites.
The bandit looked around in mock confusion. “Why, it’s a robbery!”
“We will not be easily cowed,” remarked the second wagon-puller.
“That is fine,” said the bandit with a smirk. “We are prepared for the over-confident.” He let out a shrieking cry, and half a dozen bandits emerged from the rocks, all carrying hammer-rifles or other firearms. In addition, three hoverbikes emerged from a cave tucked away just off the path, all three fitted with light ballistic weapons and covered in crudely-fastened bronze spikes.
“Thank you,” said the first wagon puller. “It’s no good fighting before you know what you’re up against.”
Reclan’s drones shot out from under the wagon’s covers and put electromagnetic shield walls between the mass of bandits and the two wagon-pulling rangers. Throwing off the coverings, Lawbine, Vanbrook, Hrake, D’Jarric, and Reclan emerged from the back of the wagon, ready to strike. Signaled by Reclan, the other rangers pushed their desert hound mounts to catch up with the wagon from where they hid a quarter mile behind, led by Doc and Raivyn on hoverbikes.
“Kill them!” shouted the bandit leader, firing as he ran for the cover of a boulder by the side of the road.
His shot bounced harmlessly off the shield protecting the rangers, but the return fire killed four of the six bandits who’d emerged from the roadside, two of the kill shots coming from Lawbine’s deadly rayguns. The three bandit hover bikes lined up on the road, firing at the wagon as the bandit leader and the two remaining bandits with him fell back and found cover. Reclan arranged her drones to widen and reinforce the shield wall as they waited for help to arrive.
She was just beginning to worry about the shield’s ability to hold when Raivyn and Doc came into range, pushing out to the side of the road far enough that their hoverbike’s guns could get a shot on one of the bandit’s bikes without risk of hitting the wagon. A hail of fire followed and a bandit’s bike fell to the ground, its propulsion system destroyed along with its rider. Another bandit on foot, who’d tried to lean out of where he hid behind cover to pick off Doc or Raivyn, fell to Lawbine’s marksmanship.
“Retreat!” called the bandit leader, leaping from cover onto the back of one of the hoverbikes.
Raivyn and Doc pulled up. D’Jarric leapt onto the back of Doc’s bike and, before Vanbrook could say anything, Lawbine jumped on the back of Raivyn’s. The two bikes sped off again, leaving Vanbrook boiling in their wake.
“Easy, killer,” cautioned Reclan.
He rounded on her, but held his tongue. The six rangers riding desert hounds pulled up and Vanbrook, Reclan, Hrake, and the two rangers who’d been pulling the wagon each leapt onto one of the beasts. Dhraka led the charge as the canine cavalry rushed to catch up to the hover bikes.