“Alright, Marines,” said Grepk. “Looks like we’ve got an assignment.” The bulky Raki Marine captain walked into the small barracks that served as the team’s headquarters.

Keshri and Krum-Bahk looked up from their card game. Krum-Bahk, a tall, wide Krauqian with a massive Astralbian cutlass slung over his shoulder, nodded his understanding. Keshri, a compact and deadly Talpidarian female with long, sharp, spade-like claws on her hands, shrugged an “okay.”

“What’s going on, boss?” asked Trall. The lanky Dromean male was the latest addition to the team, a medic brought on to replace Fenyn after the latter’s death. Fresh out of basic, he was tattooed all along his arms and Grepk was pretty sure he’d never seen him without a cup of rakka bean tea in his hand.

“Not sure,” said Grepk. “The Dart, one of the System Watch ships, sent a message that it had detected an anomaly. It hasn’t reported anything since, and the powers-that-be at the Depot are getting nervous. We’re going to go check it out.”

“Gotta pull the Navy’s fat out of the fryer, eh?” asked Trall, a smirk tugging at his scaly lips.

Grepk nodded, his antennae perking up with a smile of his own. “That about sums it up. Come on, team. Let’s get to the Gladius, I want to be aetherborn within the hour.”

***

Chreep, a native Shairet leader, was waiting for Hrake and the others as soon as the Drihn landed in the airfield outside his city on Gateway, towing what scrap they could from the Ramshackle ships that had meant to do the same to them. General Grubula, the Griffon Republic Army officer in charge of the Republic military bases that had been set up across the Cornucopia Cluster, stood with him on his mechanical legs. Grubula had been an annoyance to Chreep in the beginning, seeming to have little respect for low-technology societies like Chreep’s. However, a mutual respect, if not friendship, had slowly blossomed between the two.

Gateway was the only known planet that allowed for a place to stop for water between the galaxy at large and the resource-dense Cornucopia Cluster, and Gateway had gone from an isolated, iron-age world to a major trade hub in a matter of months following the Cornucopia War. The Drihn was the first diplomatic overture from Hruduk, another world that had been low-tech until the very recent past. Chreep was excited to greet Hrake as an ambassador rather than as an allied warrior. Peace suited the Shairet far better than war.

“Chreep! Good to see you!” said Hrake as he descended from the ship’s ramp.

“Hrake! You as well,” replied Chreep.

“Captain Hrake,” said Grubula gravely. “I apologize that the Republic Navy was not able to reach you in time to help fend off the loathsome pirates who assaulted you.”

Hrake waved a meaty, clawed hand dismissively. “They were merely rabble. The Drihn was more than able to fend them off. Besides, the Republic was well represented by Talon Squad.”

As if on cue, Vanbrook and the others walked down the ramp behind Hrake.

“General Grubula, Ambassador Chreep!” said Vanbrook. “Wow, this place has really taken off!” He looked around at the once-empty airfield around the lake that contained Chreep’s village. In addition to the stone tower that jutted out of the lake to provide an entryway to the underwater city, there was a tall traffic control tower at a series of steel landing platforms, all buzzing with traffic.

“Yes,” said Chreep with a nod. “Our friends at AetherCrate wasted no time in helping us develop our airfield.”

“And your friends at TalpiTech would love to discuss opportunities regarding a possible Shairet fleet,” said Vritik, descending the ramp with Ytriv.

“All of that may be discussed later,” said Chreep. “For now, let us retire to the lake tower for refreshments.”

“What do I have to do to get my own complimentary Talpi?” asked Reclan in a voice low enough that only Vanbrook could hear her. He shot her a wry smile.

***

After a brief layover on Avonia, the Wingspan was in a jump to Gateway. Sitting beneath his officer’s sword in his still-barren office, Hunt was pleased with how the mission had gone thus far, and it sounded as though the Drihn had made it through their encounter with the Ramshackle Collective well enough, even making off with some prizes to add to the Hrudukite fleet.

A notification came through on his comm device, interrupting his thoughts. It was Triflin, calling from the bridge.

“Officer Triflin, what’s the matter?” asked Hunt.

“Prime Minister Skritka wishes to speak to you, sir,” answered the young Astralbian.

“I’ll be right there,” said Hunt, walking out of his office as he spoke. He was a bit concerned. He wasn’t due to check in for a few days yet, and it was certainly odd for the Prime Minister to reach out to him.

He made it to the bridge as quickly as he could, holding his hands behind his back and nodding to Triflin to answer the call. Skritka’s face appeared on the screen before him.

“Admiral Hunt,” he said in a crisp, business-like voice. “How goes your journey?”

“Fine, Prime Minister, just fine,” answered Hunt. “Though I’m surprised to hear from you. Is something wrong?”

Skritka pushed round spectacles up his pointed snout and sighed. “Things may be more complicated than expected with Glinya and the refugees from Shumriven. It sounds like Lord Wyven is aware of the vessel and wants it stopped. He has been conscripting the Teltons to fight against Trilia’s Koomite cult for dominance over the Empire’s remnants and wants the refugees as soldiers for the cause.

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“We will still honor the code if they manage to land on Gateway, but we’re suspending communications with them until they do so. They are fugitives of Astralbian justice until they reach friendly clay, and, whatever our feelings on ‘Astralbian justice’ may be, we cannot risk further souring relations with the Astralbian Kingdom at this time. Though we do not consider them allies, we’d prefer to have them rebuild the Kingdom than allow Trilia to reform it in her own image.”

“I understand, Prime Minister,” replied Hunt. “I’ll hope to see them shortly, as we’ll be arriving on Gateway in the next few days.”

“Excellent,” said Skritka. “Providence shine on your journey, Admiral.”

“On you as well, Prime Minister.”

***

The days passed slowly for Vanbrook as he waited for Raivyn to arrive with the rest of the Blue Griffon Fleet. He felt stupid for the way he’d acted the last time they’d spoken, and he was worried about how much time Lawbine had been able to spend with her since then. He’d sent a comms message her direction but hadn’t heard back from her, which was understandable given that it was only traveling at lightspeed. It had been a pretty bland message, and he hadn’t brought himself to actually apologize. He regretted that, too, but he really didn’t want to be the kind of guy who sent message after message, annoying and confusing the girl he was trying to woo, so he’d left it at one lame communique and hoped for the best.

“Van, you just gonna mope on the beach all day?” asked Reclan.

He looked around, spreading his arms to indicate the idyllic lakeshore he was sitting on. “Well, y’know, I could do worse than paradise as a backdrop for moping. Besides, you got something better for me to be doing?”

“We could use a strong back for some of the repairs and modifications we’re doing to the Ramshackle ships Hrake commandeered,” said Reclan, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “We’ll take you if that’s all we can get.”

Vanbrook smiled. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave paradise behind and get my hands dirty awhile.” He stood up and followed Reclan over to where the ships lay in the airfield.

“So what’s the project here, exactly?” asked Vanbrook.

“Well, ‘Captain’ Hrake would like to make the most of the ships he captured, but Ramshackle Ships aren’t designed for biological beings that have to, y’know, breathe air,” answered Reclan. “To that end, Vritik and Ytriv are trying to seal off the below-decks areas and install some life support systems. I don’t know how much utility Hrake is really going to be able to get out of it, but he’s pretty excited about the idea of coming home with a bigger fleet than he left in.”

Vanbrook laughed. “Okay, just point me towards the heavy stuff. I’ll be happy to help out.”

The following couple of days went by much quicker. The three ships were in a bad state of disrepair and it took some serious prep work to get them ready to take off again, much less support biological life. They had finally sealed the lower decks when Dhraka reached out to Vanbrook over comms.

“Officer Triflin has reached out to me,” she said. “Your fleet will be landing in a few hours.”

“Oh, uh, thanks for the heads-up,” said Vanbrook, suddenly looking nervous.

“Now you have to talk to her again,” said D'Jarric with a smile as he walked by with a filter assembly hoisted over his shoulder.

“Oh, mind your own business, you big yellow oaf,” spat Vanbrook.

“If I did that I'd be back on Solaris Maginite,” said the Solaran, dropping the filter off with the technicians. “Then where would you be?”

“Left in peace, I guess,” snorted Vanbrook.

“I think I struck a nerve, Doc,” said D'Jarric, winking at the Robot who was just walking by with some plumbing.

“Leave me out of it,” he said, not even slowing down.

“I'll tell you what I think,” said Reclan, folding the schematic she'd been studying.

“Since everyone was asking,” drolled Vanbrook.

“What I think,” said Reclan emphatically, eyeing Vanbrook significantly, “is that I worked too hard getting the two of you together to watch you ruin it all now.”

“Doc's the only one of you with any sense of decency or discretion,” said Vanbrook.

“I said leave me out of it,” called Doc over his shoulder.

Vanbrook smiled despite himself and got back to work.

A few hours later, the Fleet arrived as promised. Vanbrook rushed to clean himself up and then started looking for Raivyn. He found her introducing Lawbine to Chreep and a few other Shairet dignitaries.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Lawbine. “And good to see psychic Shairet have been welcomed back into society.”

“Yes,” said Khrip, one of the formerly exiled psychics. “Now that we understand the outbreaks of madness stem from the aether beasts we are much more prepared to deal with it, especially with the Guardian now living in the Cornucopia Cluster. Such a being was once known to the Shairet, but was regarded as a mere myth.”

“Ah, Vanbrook,” continued Chreep. “I take it you are here to greet your compatriots.”

“Yes, though if you'd like to take Lawbine on a tour of your village, I think that would be an excellent opportunity for the Aeratan people. I was hoping to speak to Raivyn, anyway.”

Raivyn crossed her arms defiantly. “Maybe I should go along with Lawbine.”

“No need, Raivyn,” said Lawbine. “I'm sure Vanbrook would like to own up to his behavior from before.”

Vanbrook shot Lawbine a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“Fine,” said Raivyn, growing uncomfortable at the discussion unfolding before an audience. “Let's go chat.”

She said farewell to the gathered Shairet dignitaries and walked off with Vanbrook.

“Well?” she asked moodily after they'd gotten out of earshot.

“Well, uh, how was the trip?” asked Vanbrook.

“What happened to owning up to your behavior?” demanded Raivyn.

“I didn't say that, Lawbine did,” protested Vanbrook.

“Well, maybe you should think about taking his advice on this one,” retorted Raivyn.

Vanbrook seethed internally, but kept his face set. “Didn't I explain it in my message?”

“Oh, this message?” asked Raivyn. There was an uncomfortable silence as she sifted through her comms device for the file. Vanbrook winced as he heard his own voice played back to him.

“Hey, Rai, it's Van. I hope this'll reach you before you get to Gateway, then maybe you can get back to me? Uh… you seemed, um, upset last time we talked. I'm not mad, just wanted, uh, wanted you to know that. Um, that's about it, I guess. I'll talk to you soon.”

Vanbrook raised his eyes to see Raivyn standing with a fist on her hip, comm held out menacingly before her as though she was trying to physically attack him with the recording. Since he felt like he got punched in the gut, he almost thought she had somehow.

“That was… worse than I remember,” he said, speaking slowly as if trying to feel his way across dangerous terrain.

She nodded encouragingly, but there was still fire in her eyes. “And…?”

Vanbrook sighed resignedly. “I'm sorry, Rai. I was mad, but not at you. Forgive me?”

It was Raivyn's turn to look upset. Vanbrook winced again, wondering what the silence meant.

“We're fine, Van,” said Raivyn. “It's okay.”

Vanbrook breathed a sigh of relief.

“But look, Van,” she continued, pointing a finger at him. “I'm not a child. I don't need all my friends to like each other. But whatever you've got against Lawbine, keep it to yourself. He's working with us and representing an allied nation. So be civil.”

Vanbrook paused for the briefest of moments. He considered telling Raivyn that Lawbine was gunning for her affections, but something told him that would cause more problems than it would solve. Let Lawbine fight on his own terms. He'd fight on his.

“It's a deal, Rai,” he said. “Would you like to see the Shairet village again? I bet we can catch up with Lawbine if we get our gear on quick enough.”

Raivyn smiled up at Vanbrook. Maybe he could grow up, after all.