As the last of the crafters vanished into the portal, I got a private message from Grandpa. Shad, get over here. I want you to hear this.

He pinged the map on a location, and I strode off in search of him. A little ways off of the beach, past the rows of cabanas and tropical bars, outside the circles of firelight from the bonfires, stood low thatched-roofed huts, one or two rooms each with whitewashed walls and cheerfully painted shutters.Lamps glowed in the windows and lanterns stood outside.

Grandpa was a little ways farther along from me. I put my head down and walked past as couples, or sometimes more than a pair, of individuals ducked into the huts, laughing and giggling to themselves.

They didn't all stick to their own species either. I saw orcs with space elves, lizardfolk with what I hoped were non-Earth humans.

I found where Grandpa was. This was no hut. This was a two-story building, all neat, straight lines, and business, with bronze fittings around the door and windows, and a plaque beside the door that said "Government House."

I stepped up and knocked on the door. It swung open under my touch. "Get in here, Shad," Grandpa called from inside.

I stepped over the threshold, then closed the door behind me. Grandpa was seated at a round table. There were three other people with him. The first was a lizardfolk woman with golden scales. A male space elf, pale silver hair falling past his shoulders, pierced by delicately tapered ears, brilliant blue eyes like ice scowled at me as I stepped through the door.

The third was a man wearing a dark robe. He sat in the middle, the other two as far away from him as they could manage without getting too close to Grandpa, who lounged opposite, sitting back in a chair, tilting the legs back, hands laced behind his head.

"Pull up a chair, son," Grandpa said.

I grabbed a straight-backed wooden chair from against the wall and dragged it over to the table, wincing at the loud scraping sound it made on the polished wooden floors. I sat beside Grandpa, closer to him than to the lizardfolk woman.

"You pissed some people off, Shad," Grandpa said.

"Oh?" I said, trying to keep my tone light. "What else is new?"

Grandpa gestured at the space elf. "This is the local representative from Proxima Corporation."

I frowned; something about that name was familiar. "Are you the ones who are behind Sicaris?" I asked.

"The Sicaris Corporation was owned by one of our, um, associates," the space elf man said smoothly, steepling his hands together in front of him. His eyes bored into me as he spoke. It was like listening to a snake charmer. "He exceeded his mandate in several areas. He has been reprimanded. Sicaris is no longer of concern. However, Proxima Corporation has invested a great deal of money in this reality engine exploit and we wish to see it be profitable. We happen to be your neighbor. Our subsidiary, Vortali Holdings, has the alpha node to your west."

"Good to meet you," I said. Vortali weren’t the ones who had hired Theram’Goss and the Firebrand orcs, so the elf shouldn’t be angry at me for beating them.

"I am Halithi Dreamwarden." He inclined his head toward me. "I hope this is the last time we are required to be in the same room."

Grandpa indicated the lizardfolk woman. "Miss Astramel here is the legal representative of TriStar Unlimited."

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Who?" I bluffed.

"The outfit whose node you raided during initial construction phase, appropriating property worth 50,000 soul coins and disrupting node claim," Astramel said, leaning forward.

"Hey, we followed the rules of the game," I said.

The third man held up his hand. He pushed his hood back, revealing a bald head. "I am Patriarch Kvaltash of the Order of the Progenitors," he said. "I will be your mediator during this arbitration."

It was clear Kvaltash was some sort of priest or clergy associated with a religious group. A name like "Order of the Progenitors" meant that they were some sort of nutters who thought they had the secrets of the race who had built the reality engine, all figured out. But "mediator?" "Arbitration?"

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Wait, this is a formal thing? I asked Grandpa. Are we in big trouble?

I don’t know yet. Veda’s not answering. Try to keep your cool here.

"TriStar would like to enter a formal complaint. Mediator is not a neutral party. The Order of the Progenitors has a long standing hostility toward my clients’ race."

"That’s not true," Kvaltash said. "While some of my order do believe that the Grignarians are an abomination, spawned by the Void in order to counter the Progenitors’ Grand Design, my own sect teaches that the Grignarians, and any other self-spawned race we may encounter, are a necessary element to the unfolding design. The Grand Matriarch subscribes to this view, and has placed the Grignarians under protected status. They may not be visited by the Inquisition or harrassed by the faithful. You are assured, I will be able to remain neutral during this dispute."

"We have no complaint," Halithi said. "Proxima Corporation accepts this arbitrator."

"Why are you here?" I asked the space elf. "Her, I understand, but we haven’t crossed paths with your people. Yet."

Halithi scowled. "TriStar is alleging illegal collusion between Proxima and you earthlings."

"That’s nonsense." I turned to Kvaltash. "These guys tried to screw us over in Phase One. They nearly froze my coalition out of farming zones entirely. If they had their way, we wouldn’t be here."

"They are angling even now to make the earthlings their pawns. This scheme has Proxima all over it," Astramel insisted. She flicked her tongue out, her wide membrane eyelids nictating rapidly. She held up a delicately clawed hand and ticked off points. "Item: known collusion between Proxima subsidiaries and members of the Earthling vestigal armed forces. Item: leaders of Misfits Guild Phase Two team are also members of said armed forces. Item: After his dissociation with Sicaris and his former coalition, Earthling Major Waters admitted to my patrons that there is a secret alliance between Proxima and the Earth governments, directed by a shadowy figure we have not been able to identify but Waters referred to as ‘the colonel’".

I was struck dumb. Was any of what she said right? Were Colonel Ames’s "allies" and "sources" agents of Proxima?

"Once again, I deny all such allegations," Halithi said smoothly.

"Look into our background," I said. "We have a named sponsor, and Tvedra Corporation is not linked to Proxima. At all. Besides, when we raided that other node, we were following game rules. I checked."

Kvaltash nodded. "That is correct. However, TriStar made a formal complaint to the system. Behind the scenes collusion is contrary to the spirit of the game. It is true, your team has been remarkably disruptive."

"Hey, that was one raid," I protested.

Astramel leaned forward, hissing. "You have been limited in your disruption due to a lack of resources. This is one of only ten Phase Two maps and you are confined to a tiny corner of it. You have impacted perhaps seven or eight out of the 250 sponsoring teams on this level. And yet, those ripples are being felt. The Grignarian Association is threatening to pull out of this exploit entirely and boycott the next several as well."

"Let them," Halithi said. "A bunch of creepy weirdos anyway." I found myself warming to the Space Elf.

Kvaltash held up a hand. "Nevertheless, the Grignarians are essential to any successful reality engine exploit. Their understanding of progenitor technology is unsurpassed by anyone outside of my own order. It is unfortunate that they do not enjoy cooperation with others."

I held up a hand. "Look, there's a really awesome party going on out there. I just learned how to tweak my alcohol tolerance up and down so I can drink as much as I want, then get as drunk as I want and pass out, wake up tomorrow, and turn off the hangover. I really don't want to miss that in order to hang out and have a conversation with you scintillating people. Can we get this over with?"

You're laying it on a little thick, Grandpa messaged me.

The priest guy stood up. "Consul Astramel, your complaint has been heard and filed. This hearing will be public record and can serve as a basis for an appeal up to the local oversight board, or if you prefer a change of venue out of the Proxima Sector, you may. I warn you, legal proceedings are rather backed up right now and you are not likely to get a response for some time." He turned to Halithi. "I admit some questions remain unanswered. I have flagged any dealings between Proxima, its subordinates, and earth-humans for increased scrutiny by the system. If my services are required again, Proxima will be paying the bill, not the Exploitation Committee."

"That’s not enough —" Astramel began, but Kvaltash waved and she vanished. I started. Had she been a hologram? Or could the arbitrator kick people out of this map that quickly.

"I’m satisfied," Halithi declared. He disappeared as well.

Kvaltash turned to us. "Before I leave, any concluding statements you wish added to my report?"

"This was a waste of time. We weren’t colluding. I don’t want anything to do with you assholes," I said. I looked at Grandpa. "You?"

"That basically sums it up."

"Before you leave, a word." Kvaltash raised a hand, then lowered it. "No longer as arbitrator, that is concluded. But as a Patriarch of the Order of the Progenitors, I wish to offer my personal best wishes. I believe you earthlings are truly the heirs of this reality engine. I hope to see some of your species make it into the next phase. My Order believes that when children of a reality engine are able to make contact with the engine’s soul, great knowledge may be revealed. To that end, we may be able to help sponsor a Phase Three bid. If, say, there is a mysterious force behind you earthlings and your remarkable cohesion, I would be interested in speaking with them."

Grandpa stood up. "I’ll pass that along to our sponsor. We don’t get involved in politics." He stretched. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a beach to storm in the morning and I’d rather do it after a good night’s sleep."