Kiris touched the pod, and the miracle machine opened. Jaquan groaned, much like a man stirred from a nap.

“I’m going to need some help here,” the mechanic muttered with a bit of a slur.

“He’ll stay drunk for a little bit longer,” Kiris said.

“’m not... drunk...” the man replied.

Gaylen took his left arm and helped him out of the pod. The terrible burn wound had been replaced with smooth, reddish, hairless flesh. It was as if he’d received a transplant from a baby.

“Still can’t really... move it,” Jaquan commented, looking down on his right arm.

“That’s on purpose,” Kiris said. “Give your new nerves some time to adjust.”

“Right.”

Gaylen helped him put the coat back on. There was a hidden camera in the connecting room, and a screen on the wall showed it to be empty. Kiris opened their side of the hidden door, then closed it behind them again.

“I think I can walk on my own,” Jaquan said.

Gaylen experimentally let go of him, and after a bit of swaying Jaquan managed it. He really did look drunk, but no worse than that.

“Herdis?” Gaylen said into his comm, kept silent until now.

“We’re fine,” the woman said.

“We’re on our way back.”

Almost a full day spent inside that dull little room with no entertainment and nothing to do made stepping out into the hallways again quite an ambivalent experience; great relief mixed with tension.

There was less foot traffic by the locals, and generally things had settled down somewhat. But the soldiers were still present, and very deliberately visible at intersections. What locals he did see looked tired and nervous, and two people stood and radiated impotent frustration as Ulaka soldiers wheeled boxes out of a storage room. Presumably it was ‘taxation’ in action.

They were just out of Kelan Unn Ter’s territory when a door opened, and out stepped a man in a fancier version of the green and white uniform. It had a golden symbol on the front torso, and instead of a helmet it was topped by a green and gold cap.

The man was accompanied by three soldiers, and his eyes fastened on them. Gaylen sensed that he was to stop, and did so.

“I don’t think I’ve met you three yet,” the man said.

He stood with his hands behind his back, radiating authority through his bearing and satisfaction with the fact through his face. His gaze wandered to Kiris. She’d covered up as usual, but her golden skin and eyes were still plainly visible.

“No. I definitely haven’t.”

“No,” Gaylen said. “We’ve just been resting.

“I am Commander Gama Treko, and I head the Ulaka Authority. Were you the ones who arrived after we set up our blockade?”

“We are,” Gaylen replied.

“Outside Hangar 8, wasn’t it?” the commander said.

He gestured down along a corridor. The one leading to the hangar.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Sure.”

Treko let the three of them walk on ahead, then followed along with his three soldiers. There was nothing to do but go along with it, and nothing to say during the short walk.

“Now, why does someone...” Treko said slowly as they stepped out into the hangar, “... set down on a planet being blockaded?”

“We needed a recharge,” Gaylen said. “And it’s not like I have anything to hide.”

“So you’re the owner?” Treko said and indicated the Addax as his soldiers walked through.

“I am. I’m a freelance freight runner.”

“Oh, everyone is,” the commander said with a smile and narrow eyes. “When you ask them out on these lanes. Are you associated with this port?”

“Associated?” Gaylen said. “No. Just here to charge the engine, as I said.”

“Maybe,” Treko said. “Maybe. What are you currently transporting?”

“Nothing. I am on my way to a job.”

“Oh, really?”

“There is nothing in the cargo hold.”

“Then you won’t mind us taking a look.”

The commander waved two of his men towards the ship.

“No,” Gaylen lied.

The soldiers entered, one of them holding a multi-purpose scanner. Typical smuggling check, really. Aside from all the firepower being carried.

Gaylen took in Gama Treko’s age, his accent, and the general semi-professionalism on display.

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“So, you are one of Volkan Vol’s... successors?” he asked, reserving the word ‘leftovers’ for the privacy of his thoughts.

“Oh yes,” the commander said, still smiling and pinching his eyes. “Alas! That great man was taken from us in the midst of that chaos on Kanandra. But his vision survives, in me.”

Gaylen just nodded politely. ‘Greatness’ here translated into secret police, indiscriminate bombings, mass executions, and by some accounts a rape campaign.

“Uniting the Nearer Fringe?” he just said, to move away from that one word.

“Yes. Securing the lanes under one firm hand. And all I ask in return is taxation. But how can I tax when smugglers, pirates and their enablers run amok? This is a thoroughfare, connected to a lot of suspicious traffic. And so here I am.”

“Hm. You know, I hear there are others who claim Volkan Vol’s legacy for their own,” Gaylen commented.

The commander didn’t like the question, but shrugged it off with faux-grace.

“Jumped-up bandits,” he stated firmly. “They will be brought to heel in time.”

“Good,” Gaylen said. “That’s good to know, as an independent freighter.”

The two soldiers exited the Addax. Empty-handed, fortunately.

“Clear,” said the one with the scanner. He was old for an active soldier, and had that general battle-hardened look about him. Likely another holdover from Vol’s days.

“This time,” Gama Treko said, more to Gaylen than to the soldier. “You’re clear this time. But the Nearer Fringe owes me support for my efforts. It must do its part in its own safety.”

He pointed.

“Onwards,” he said to his men. “Much to do, much to do.”

“Oh, Commander?” Gaylen said, and the man faced him again. “I am on something of a deadline. Can you hazard a guess as to how long your blockade will remain in place?”

“As long as it has to,” the man told him through a satisfied smile. He seemed to enjoy the question. “This planet is a local thoroughfare and it has things to offer me. So you just be patient. The new law is in town.”

They left, and Gaylen spent a few moments simply looking at the closed door. Then he turned and walked directly away from it. The dust hissed and cracked beneath his feet, louder and louder as he got further away from the blowing fans. He stopped on the edge of the hangar and looked out over this miserable city.

There wasn’t much activity in the streets; only the very poorest exposed themselves to the environment to any real degree.

But the silhouettes of the two troop ships were still visible up above, slowly circling the city like a big fish. And down amidst the buildings themselves were the gunships, going from complex to complex. The occasional clearing blast of wind gave a good view of the old ships and their very new guns.

Footsteps approached from behind. There was also the sound of a vigorous pat and Bers saying: “Worked, I see!”

“Yes. Yes, it did,” Jaquan replied.

“Good!”

Herdis came to a stop on Gaylen’s left.

“Sooo...” Herdis began. “Nearer Fringe politics?”

“Something like that. But more distant politics too, I would say,” he said.

“The weapons,” the woman said.

“And the suits,” Gaylen told her. “I don’t think ‘Commander’ Treko paid for all that, and he certainly didn’t steal it. Someone wants Volkan Vol’s work continued.”

“I’m guessing the Hegemony?” she said. “They’ve had rumours of foreign meddling attached to them for a while.”

“Probably. And this may all be a long-term concern for folks on these lanes, but for now the only issue is that we’re grounded.”

Herdis sighed.

“From what I’ve seen, and caught over radio waves, I feel things here are... escalating. Slowly, but definitely. And I don’t know where it’s leading.”

“Best case scenario; they’ll drop any pretence of taxation, or confiscating stolen goods,” Gaylen said. “Worst case... probably forced recruitment. And maybe some executions.”

“And I’ll admit, that look the commander gave me was very familiar,” Kiris said from his right. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

Her tone was dull, but that made the implications no better.

“Well... for all that they act big, this really isn’t much of a blockade fleet,” Herdis said.

“This isn’t much of a planet,” Jaquan replied.

“No, but my point is that there is a lot more sky than ships.”

“Do you feel like risking being blown up?” Gaylen asked.

“No. I just wanted to mention it.”

He turned to face her, and she raised her arms to indicate the overall situation on this planet.

“We all want out of here,” she added.

“We’ve scraped death before, Gaylen,” Jaquan reminded him. “Do you remember that Yka job? Just how many near-hits were there? That was quite a ride.”

“Yeah, we’ve scraped death. For a lack of other options. But we can do better. Generally it just takes a bit of time and brains.”

“Time means more time for things to get ugly,” Herdis said.

“I know.”

He pondered in silence for a few breaths. Then he walked off.

“I’m going for a little stroll. Just stay here, all of you, and don’t engage with anyone.”

He walked through the door and passed a checkpoint of two soldiers at an intersection, and simply kept on going, following the hallway around the semi-public outer portion of the station.

It was a bit funny to reflect that seeming normal was a skill that had to be honed. He couldn’t look stressed, like he had something to hide. Nor could he look defiant, and set any of these angry-looking people and their quality rifles off. No, he just had to look bored and absorbed in his own business, in direct defiance of the adrenaline that was trying to control his behaviour.

It wasn’t long before he had to stop at another scene of soldiers wheeling cargo crates out of a large doorway marked ‘Private’. Behind them he could see the unhappy-looking presumed owner of the contents. Hearing another set of crates coming he waited a bit longer, and let them pass. Hearing a third group he hurried along his way.

Another pair marched along a different set of corridors, and shortly after passing them Gaylen came across another familiar sight.

The bot was very plain; limbless and trudging along on small treads, with no attempt at a human profile. It looked rather like a public charging port, save for the light gleaming at its top. The light passed over everything, him included, circling around again and again, seeking weapons on anyone not under Treko’s command. Hence the disconcerting absence on his hip.

He passed another open door, and heard within it two angry voices raised against one. The latter had the tone of one making desperate excuses and attempts at reason. The former sounded of vicious glee. Next he passed a similar scene taking place out in the open; two soldiers confronting a man and a woman, demanding explanation, apology, justification; something along those lines. The words and details didn’t matter. Reason wasn’t the point here; it was about getting to exercise power. And he’d seen it enough to grow disinterested.

He passed more soldiers, scan-bots, and locals, until finally he passed the hard-faced woman and young man again. The circle was complete, and he’d finished scouting.

Gaylen entered the hangar again.

“Inside,” he said to Jaquan, who was still milling about.

The crew gathered in the entry area, and Gaylen closed the airlock.

“Right. I have an idea.”