Farbin orbited Griffonia in his new body, looking down on the green and blue orb he now controlled. He had gotten used to his massive form, or at least was beginning to grow accustomed to it.

  There has been no more news of the rogue beast soldier, which Farbin took to mean the bombing had done its work. The planet was truly subdued now, despite a few guerilla groups in the countrysides, which didn't concern him. Now that supply lines were up and running and he was established as the world serpent, his focus would be to crack the fortresses located below the cities. He suspected that the Talpidarians at least were well-adapted to living underground and starving them out may not be an option.

  A communication from Grefli came through to the screen that sat just beyond his eyes. Good. The conquest of Kirakna would be another step on his journey to joining the Council. Perhaps it was too early to start thinking of another promotion, but he still felt the itching of his remaining flesh as he listened to Grefli’s voice. Why was it Grefli himself?

  Farbin listened intently to the message, his rage growing with every word.

  “They destroyed two war trains. The others are damaged,” Grefli was saying. “We are returning to regroup and adjust our approach.”

  Farbin sat silently for a moment, the only sound the whirring pumps and circuits sitting behind his ears. The Council would not be pleased.

  He recorded a message to send back to the failure of a Herald. “Come see me at once, Herald Grefli. There is much to discuss.”

  ***

  A short time later, the Blue Griffon Fleet was flying through the aether with the majority of the united armada. A token force was left behind as a rear guard, but the rest were on the way to Griffonia. The news of the successful battle had reached their allies, and the Wabulubans had sent reinforcements. Even the Independent Aerat Nation had sent a couple ships to follow behind the main fleet, and Lord Wyven, unable to spare additional star trees, had agreed to let Lady Rewna continue on with the fleet.

  That just left the long, quiet trip back between the armada and the battle for their civilization.

  A knock at Raivyn's door interrupted her brooding and she stood up from her desk and answered the door.

  “Oh, hi Van,” she said. “It's an hour or two until dinner.”

  “Yeah,” said Van, scratching the back of his head. “I was kind of hoping for a redo of that walk around the bridge tower?”

  “Oh!” said Raivyn, annoyed at her own density. “Yeah, let's do that. Sounds, uh, fun.”

  Vanbrook had a slightly pained look in his eyes.

  “That sounds lovely, Van,” she said with a smile.

  He smiled back, reaching out his hand so she could take it. She did, and they spent the next hour walking around the ship that way. At dinner, they laughed harder than they had a right to, given the circumstances, but the rest of the Squad didn't mind. The truth was a joyful spark of life was just the sort of thing everyone needed. It reminded them of what they were fighting for, and their laughter was more infectious than it was obnoxious.

  As they laughed and talked together, Admiral Hunt sat down at their table.

  “I’m not stupid, D’Jarric,” he said, offering no greeting. “You know more about this enemy than you’re letting on.”

  “Not about this enemy in particular,” said D’Jarric, not bothering to deny the charge. “What I fear is that these new enemies share with our slightly older foes, the Koomites.”

  “Which is what?” asked Hunt, exhausted. “A penchant for circular serpents?”

  “A circle is a common but singular shape, is it not?” asked D’Jarric.

  Hunt sighed.

  “Bear with me,” said D’Jarric, holding a hand up in defense of himself. “A circle is ubiquitous, not merely for its simplicity, but for its symbolism. It is sameness. It is ongoing emptiness. It is the infinite, inglorious repetition of madness. The serpent is a symbol recognized by the many species of our universe as a poisoner, a backbiter, a destroyer of what is good and pure.

  “This symbol predates most, if not all, of your civilizations,” said D’Jarric. “It was the symbol adopted by Y’Vlik, the Rebel, who led the rebellious Solarans against the Progenitor in the Solaran Civil War.”

  “And you, what, think Y’Vlik may be returning?” asked Hunt.

  “Some prophets believe he will, and that it will be the end of my people,” answered D’Jarric with a sigh. “Fighting him once felt like enough for all time.”

  Raivyn stared down at her cup as D’Jarric spoke.

  “D’Jarric,” she said, looking up at him. “How old are you?”

  “The Solarans do not count years the way most biologicals do,” said D’Jarric.

  “How old?” asked Hunt.

  “I am as old as my star, as are all Solarans,” said D’Jarric, rising from the table. “I have answered enough questions for now, I’m afraid. I will tell you what I may as I may. For now, I must simply ask that you trust me, in this matter and in others.”

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  With that, he strode from the room, leaving the others speechless in his wake.

  ***

  Grefli stepped into the open room that served as Farbin's command center. He stood in the center, looking up at the disembodied head that controlled the massive robotic serpent.

  “Herald Grefli,” said Farbin's stern voice. His head protruded from the wall, snaking down towards Grefli on a series of articulated cables like a grisly approximation of a serpent. “Explain your failures to me.”

  “They circumvented our disruptors, World Serpent,” said Grefli. Addressing Farbin this way grated on Grefli's nerves. Farbin had always been an annoying, sharp-elbowed colleague; he was unbearable as a superior. “Our defenses were not prepared for a straight-forward attack.”

  “Hmm,” said Farbin. “I must meet them with overwhelming force, then.”

  “We will be ready, World Serpent,” said Grefli.

  “No,” said Farbin simply. “I will be ready, you will be dead.”

  Grefli ground his teeth, trying to send a gout of flame from the crystal on his forehead. Farbin stopped him, controlling him through his command center. Now he could simply activate the chip in Grefli's head to kill him.

  “Tell me,” said Grefli, resigned to his fate. “Was it worth it? Becoming a monstrosity? I always thought we Heralds had the best of it. So tell me, since I'm dead anyway, how do you like your miserable new form? Is it everything the Council promised?”

  Farbin withdrew his head back into the wall and opened the trapdoor beneath Grefli, the suction pulling him down into the mechanisms below.

  Ignoring the short-lived screams, Farbin turned his attention towards calling up as much force as he could through the maw.

  D'Jarric sat on the prow of the Wingspan, lost in thought. He heard steps behind him and turned to see Doc walking his way. “Mind if I join you?” asked the Robot through the comms system. He gave the somber Robot a smile and nod as he sat by him.

  “What I've learned of late,” said Doc, staring off towards the distant star that would soon reveal itself as Griffonia’s sun, “is that you and I have more in common than I ever suspected.”

  “How so?” asked D'Jarric.

  “I always thought that I was artificial and that you were mortal. Turns out, we are both created and immortal, at least in a sense.”

  D'Jarric smiled. “I suppose so. I was never sure about that, by the way. I always had my suspicions about Robot cores, but I was never sure.”

  “So you don't know everything, then,” said Doc.

  “No, no,” said D'Jarric with a laugh. “There is much I don't know. Solarans are, as you may have inferred, a unique race. And our path is different from many of our fellows. I know very little about the Coreborn and their Elders. We serve at the Progenitor’s pleasure, and it may be that the Solarans’ time in this galaxy is coming to an end.”

  “The Progenitor will… kill you?” asked Doc.

  “No, we will continue on,” said D'Jarric. “Just not here.”

  “Huh,” said Doc. “Hope he gives Talon Squad some notice. You'll be hard to replace.”

  “I should hope so,” laughed D'Jarric.

  “So every star has its own Solaran?” asked Doc. “Or vice versa?”

  “Many died in the Civil War,” said D'Jarric sadly. “They are with Progenitor already. Or caught within their own collapsed stars, if they were rebels.”

  “And now they're coming back?” asked Doc.

  “The forces of chaos seem to be gathering,” said D'Jarric. “When I was dispatched to work among the biologicals, I knew it may be leading to the end. I suppose I will know more soon.”

  “Well, do you mind keeping us in the loop going forward?” asked Doc.

  “I will inform the Prime Minister and other leaders of what I've told you,” said D'Jarric. “You must understand that I keep many secrets that are not mine to do with as I please.”

  “Fair enough,” said Doc. “So, what do we do now?”

  D'Jarric shrugged. “We meet every new challenge with a smile, knowing the Progenitor will guide us through.”

  “Well, the smiling thing is a bit difficult for me, metal faceplate and all,” said Doc.

  “And what of trusting the Progenitor?” asked D'Jarric.

  “That… that's pretty foreign to me, as well,” said Doc. “But more and more, I think I may be forced to give it a try.”

  D'Jarric gave him a wry smile. “That'll have to do for now, I suppose. Come, the chaos will not fight itself.”

  ***

  King Hua and Queen Shiu marveled at the creature that had risen from the ground in their courtyard. Besides Crush, they had never seen a Coreborn in this form. Neither had their parents, or grandparents, or any ancestors going back countless generations.

  KING AND QUEEN, said Meristem, breaking his silence with a booming mental voice. YOUR GUARDIAN HAS LEFT YOU. I HAVE COME ONLY TO TELL YOU THAT, UNTIL A GUARDIAN IS ESTABLISHED ONCE MORE, THE COREBORN AND THE ELDERS WILL RETURN TO OUR DEEP HOMES. IT WAS AGAINST OUR EXPRESS WISHES THAT GUARDIAN SPROUT LEFT THIS WORLD, BUT SHE HAS MADE HER CHOICE.

  “We have only just met you, and Koo L'Koom will not return for some time,” protested Hua.

  THAT IS NOT A RISK THE ELDERS WILL TAKE, boomed Meristem. AN ELDER COREBORN MADDENED BY AN AETHER BEAST IS NOT SOMETHING TO BE GLIB ABOUT.

  WE HOPED FOR NEW AGE OF GROWTH ON CRADLE. PERHAPS SOON WE WILL ESTABLISH A GUARDIAN… BUT WISHING IS NO GOOD USE OF TIME. GOODBYE, KING AND QUEEN OF THE LIGHTBORN.

  Meristem turned back to the hole he had emerged from, clearly not interested in any response from Hua and Shiu. They watched him disappear for a moment.

  “I am going to follow him,” said Hua.

  “Don't,” said Shiu, a note of worry in her voice.

  “We haven't seen our counterparts in centuries, my Queen,” said Hua. “I am not going to let their irrational fears stop me.”

  Her form shivered with foreboding as she watched her King disappear after the Coreborn. She understood his excitement, but feared the consequences of ignoring the Elder’s warnings.

  ***

  “Well well well,” said Vanbrook. “If it isn't the old man.”

  D'Jarric boarded the shuttle and sat down by the rest of Talon Squad as they strapped in to end the jump and take the battle to the Drakmundi.

  “I'm young at heart, Vanbrook,” said D'Jarric with a good natured laugh. “And I've got plenty of spark left to beat you up, if that was a challenge.”

  Vanbrook held his hands up in mock surrender. “I believe that. So, does this mean we finally get to see you really cut loose on the bad guys?”

  “You'll know it when I do,” answered D'Jarric.

  “Back to riddles, I see,” said Raivyn.

  “Alright folks,” said Reclan from the pilot's chair. “Buckle in and get ready. As soon as we get the word we're blasting off for the surface. We'll be following Drixen's squad as well as a squad of Marines aboard the gunship Dirk.”

  “Alright,” said Vanbrook. “Let's take our city back!”