The interior was exceedingly spacious, made to accommodate dragonkind comfortably. There was a single cavernous chamber, its smoothed stone walls reaching high above to a series of slitted windows near the ceiling. Large clusters of energized quartz were embedded in various places, bathing the chamber in soft, multi-colored hues. Terraces and perches, natural and artificial, ranged the walls. At the center of the temple was a huge triangular dais. Great, stone talons extended from the dais' corners, curving inward, and glowing orbs floated at their tips. Showers of motes fell quietly from the orbs, whirling in silent clouds of cyan and purple on their way to the floor.

Standing before the dais was the Council of Dragon Retreat: two males, one female, and a synthmorph of decidedly ambiguous appearance. The organic individuals were dressed in formal, free-flowing garments. The rest of the temple was empty, though there were spimes and other sensors installed at various places. A loud debate was currently going on between three of the councilors present.

"We should leave," the female councilor said, leaning her tall and slender Highlander frame forward in apprehension. "Our best course would be to evacuate to one of the capital cities, like Kryoon."

"Preposterous!" replied one of the male councilors, a dark-skinned Scorchlander. "Kryoon is on the other side of the Equatorial Ice Flats, thousands of kilometers from here. And it's under the rule of the Consortium, no less!"

"We cannot stay here," the Highlander councilor insisted. "Whatever's out there, it is too big to protect our people from it. In Kryoon we will be safe!"

"This shrine-town is our homeland," the Scorchlander councilor said. His rich basso voice elevated in pitch. "It is both our and ours ancestors' legacy, built and maintained for centuries. We will guard it with our lives if we must, but we won't let it fall – be it to the Consortium, the Union, or some other calamity!"

"I concur with the decision to stay," the synthmorph councilor said with a dispassionate, genderless voice. The lamp-like viewsensor on their head blinked once. "I raise awareness about the logistical difficulties of moving our population across non-trivial distances."

"We could use–" the Highlander councilor began, yet then the four of them noticed Airo and the rest of the approaching party.

The Scorchlander councilor stepped forward. "Thankfully you have returned, Itrix," he said. "We welcome you back. Though I can't say the same about the stellar barbarians you have brought along. The proud, powerful Consortium troopers, coming to ask the common folk for aid!" Then he saw Veralla, and his speech faltered. "...and that is a dragon," he added weakly.

"She is so dark!" the Highlander councilor breathed. "Is something wrong with her?"

"It is possible she's been mistreated," the synthmorph councilor said. "Probably by the strangers who accompany her."

Airo steeled himself against the outbursts which would be sure to follow such accusations. However, before either he or anyone else could say anything, the dragonet spoke.

"What are those lights?" she exclaimed, staring in wonder at the motes falling from the hovering orbs.

The Council stopped and glanced behind themselves, caught off-guard by the question. The Scorchlander councilor first shook off his confusion. "They are part of the architecture," he snapped in annoyance.

"They seem so... complete," the dragonet murmured.

"What is your name, little one?" the Highlander councilor asked.

"Oh, I am Veralla," the dragonet said, turning her attention away from the orbs. "Nice to meet you!"

The Council stared, flabbergasted. As one, they turned their gazes to Councilor Itrix, then to Airo, Kiana, and Zuckeroff, then back to the dragonet, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.

"Who... who named you?" the Scorchlander councilor asked.

"Airo gave me my name," Veralla said happily. "It is a very nice name, yes?"

The Scorchlander councilor drew himself up. "Who among you is Airo?" he asked imperiously.

Airo took several steps, leaving the ring of slitheroid drones. "I am Commander Airo," he said. "And I want to–"

"Who are you to make demands?" the Scorchlander councilor cut him off. "What gave you the right to bestow the name of the Great Goddess upon a mortal? To that end, how did you end up with this hatchling? If the Consortium thinks it can come with dragon slaves in our shrine-town, then–"

"Graam, control yourself," Councilor Itrix snapped. She moved forward to stand among the other councilors. "We already have discussed the issue of whether or not to help these strangers." She gestured gracefully at the dragonet. "And this little dragon here is perfectly healthy, I assure you." Councilor Itrix looked plain in her vacsuit next to the other councilors, yet her bearing was more regal than any of them. "Now these people are here with us, and it is our duty to show them the courtesy of our ways." She nodded toward Airo. "I've already introduced myself to them. Visorious, if you please?"

"Affirmative," the synthmorph councilor said. The viewsensor blinked, and faced Airo and his team. "I am Councilor Visorious, and these are Councilor Graam, Councilor Letira, and Councilor Usylor. Collectively, we represent the residents of Dragon Retreat, and it is our responsibility to protect and guide this community."

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Kiana suddenly burst out. "Can't the people guide and protect themselves?"

"We do not impose; only advise," Councilor Letira said softly. She looked slightly abashed. "And the others chose us on their own volition."

Kiana muttered something under her breath.

"Is there something wrong?" Councilor Itrix asked.

"Let's just say, I'm not a fan of vertical hierarchies," Kiana said mulishly. "Or any sort of governmental bodies for that matter."

"Our roles are those of coordinators, not sovereigns," Councilor Itrix said. "We are a council in the true sense of the word. Any resident is welcome to join our meetings at any time. Most don't do so because they trust us, and prefer to use their time for other activities."

"Neat!" Zuckeroff chimed in, giving a thumbs-up.

"Hmph, now then," Councilor Graam grunted, "why have you brought warmongers before the Council, Itrix? We have more important matters to attend to."

"I wanted our visitors to explain before us why the Consortium and the Union are at war," the fin-headed councilor said. She regarded Airo, and raised a hairless eyebrow. "As their rescuers, we deserve to know what is happening to our homeworld."

"Interrogation," Councilor Graam snorted with satisfaction. "I see. Very clever, Itrix. You didn't raise that point during the initial discussion about these stellar barbarians."

"I said we deserve to know," Councilor Itrix said sharply. "We should not force them to tell us," she glanced at Airo again, "and even if we wanted to, I suspect we cannot. Commander Airo seems to carry an impressive set of armaments. Yet perhaps he would explain why his team asked us to rescue them, instead of the Consortium military they serve."

Airo saw no point in lying. "I will explain," he said firmly. "There has been a... miscommunication between members of this team and myself." He glanced behind at Zuckeroff and Kiana, trying to his keep his tone civil. "As such, they are no longer part of the Consortium armed forces."

"What!?" Zuckeroff exclaimed. "Boss, why?"

"You can't do it," Kiana hissed. "You don't have the authority! You aren't even our CO."

"Fine then," Airo snapped. "When an extraction squad comes, you will answer before a military tribunal."

"There will be no persecutions," Councilor Itrix cut in. "Commander Airo, know that Dragon Retreat is an independent settlement. Consortium martial law has no power here. If you try to force your ways upon us, we will answer in kind, no matter the superiority of your weaponry."

Airo's patience was wearing thin. "Suit yourself," he said darkly. "These two can stay behind then, if they wish. Personally, I do not want to have anything to do with this backwater country. Just let me contact the Consortium, and I will leave as soon as they arrive to pick me up."

"You cannot contact the Consortium," Councilor Visorious said flatly.

"Why?" Airo asked, frowning.

"Long-range communication is rarely reliable on a paraworld," the synthmorph explained in dry monotone. "And we have recently lost connection to all orbital comsat arrays. In actuality, the fact we received your distress call in the first place, and in the aftermath of a warpstorm no less, makes it an event with an exceedingly low probability curve of success."

Airo heard Kiana muttering from behind. "Or somebody used their talents to make it so."

His frown deepened. "I have to reach the Consortium at any cost," he told the council. "Do you have any suborbital shuttles or LOTVs?"

"We have none," Councilor Itrix replied.

"What about fabrication facilities?" Airo insisted. "If your settlement is self-sufficient in such a wasteland, surely you have the resources to build aerial vehicles from scratch?"

"Resources," Councilor Graam sneered. "Here you are, guests in our shrine-town, and already you dispose of our resources as you see fit!"

"You have overestimated our capabilities, Commander," Councilor Visorious added with their flat voice. "It is true we're self-sufficient, but our shrine-town lacks the necessary supplies for large-scale manufacture. Your project proposal would require advanced materials which aren't available."

"I need to reach the Consortium," Airo repeated. "My mission depends on it." The moment he finished the sentence, he regretted saying it.

Councilor Itrix' expression became mindful. "Well, we can try to arrange some sort of transport," she said in a cool tone. "In exchange for details on the nature of your mission, Commander Airo."

Airo was silent for several moments, weighing his options. The woman before him was no fool. He was aware she had realized something was wrong with his group and their motives. He tried to imagine the fear these people had, their planet suddenly becoming a war-engulfed voidscape because of outside forces. Then out of nowhere, members of said outside forces ask for their help, disjointed and unwilling even to give reason for the end of the world. Yet Airo saw no way to explain he was out of the loop as much as them. He wasn't part of the Consortium, even if he wore their insignia. He was sent to this world on false pretense, and given a chance to fulfill his only desire: to kill Ferrtau. To what end? He didn't know. He didn't care. Revenge did not concern itself with outside matters.

In the end, whatever tale he decided to offer these people would be as meaningless as his continued existence.

"I am hungry," Veralla announced abruptly. "Is there any food here?"

There was a pause.

"We have plenty," the Stonelander, Councilor Usylor, said with a gentle voice. He had kept silent until now, his reddish features placid and calm as he followed the meeting. "Come with me, little one. Councilors, I request permission to retire from this assembly."

"You have it, Usylor," Councilor Itrix said. "Go."

He nodded, and with a beckoning gesture, led the dragonet out of the temple.

Airo watched them go, relieved that one of his problems was dealt with.

"Well, Commander Airo?" Councilor Itrix prompted. "Do you accept our proposal or not?"

He realized he had to play the role he'd been assigned. "The information you want is classified," he said, his expression neutral. "I cannot tell you without compromising Consortium security."

"Then we won't help you either," Councilor Itrix said, her tone businesslike.

"I still want to leave this place," Airo said.

"Then cooperate," Councilor Itrix said.

"Or, I may secure your assistance," he said dangerously. "Through force."

Councilor Graam bristled at that, but Councilor Itrix raised a hand to stop him. "You may, this is true," she said. "However, if you do, know that not a single resident of this shrine-town will help you. You will be on your own."

"Fine by me," Airo said coldly. "I do not plan to stay long at any rate."

"Settled, then," Councilor Itrix said. She gestured beyond him. "Ramara, Nerisca, please assist our – guests – in settling down. Except for Commander Airo, who will be departing on his own volition, the others can stay in Dragon Retreat for as long as they like."

The two blue-skinned women moved forward, and beckoned for Airo, Kiana, and Zuckeroff to follow them. As they turned around, Councilor Letira called after them.

"Just a moment, Commander Airo," she said. He turned, and eyed her expectantly. "You didn't mention anything about the little one, Veralla."

"She can fend for herself," he replied flatly.

The Council stared at him, appalled. "But she is just a hatchling," Councilor Letira said in dismay.

"So what?" he snapped. "She is almost a month old, and displays adequate capabilities for a creature of such age. Regardless, I do not care. This conversation is over. Good day."

Airo turned, and strode out of the High Temple.