The air shook with the roar of flaring anti grav boosters upon the undercarriage of the massive shuttle slowly touching down in the heart of the recently build starport in Freetown, arguably the most technologically sophisticated holding in all of Terra.

  Or so the diligent-looking Hroka Levalier was briefed by the primly attired woman by his side, different from the powerfully built half dozen agents in imperial uniform at their rear with her bronze complexion, glossy dark hair, and complete lack of any residual horns, though that latter was nothing unusual, such cosmetic surgeries being quite common amongst the upper crust and those with means. What truly set her apart besides her high cheekbones were her walnut brown irises, when various hues of bright pink to deep violet were the norm among most of the settled worlds. Yet her beauty was undeniable, for all that she was the most formal and proper of all Hroka’s supposed underlings.

  Hroka frowned, his gaze taking in the entirety of the space port and its multiple freighters and frigates being carefully shepherded to landing pads via crackling field arrays and grand flight towers of chrome, Alutopaz, and glass. Then his eyes widened as he truly caught scope of the extensive city beyond.

  “There are no formalized reports of any starport construction, let alone a city of this obvious technological sophistication in our records. Freetown, at least the Blue Faction quarter, was supposed to be no more than a few blocks in size.”

  The largest of the agents, wearing a polymer reinforced battlesuit as opposed to a more bureaucratic Inquisitor’s uniform, flashed a bemused smirk that a slower man might have missed, before his gaze was one of cordial impassivity once more. “That’s right, sir. This place has gone through a number of unorthodox evolutions that I’m sure you’ll agree are highly suspicious.” He all but loomed over his more slender superior officer, radiating the deadly potency of a dedicated field agent.

  Hroka grit his teeth against the intimidating pressure when his underling stepped uncomfortably close.

  “Directives have been downloaded. Permission to begin the investigation immediately.” The man casually waved his imperial tablet reinforced by golden runes and worth more than the man himself, before patting the hilt of his force blade. “Lethal force has been authorized.”

  Hroka had to fight not to immediately jerk a nod, when the entire half dozen flared their killing auras.

  They were the Deep Bronze of experienced soldiers, inquisitors, and executioners.

  Whatever the Empire needed them to be.

  Hroka’s throat went dry, though his anxious eyes hardened with the authority of rank.

  “Lethal force has been authorized as a last step, only when fired upon or when otherwise absolutely necessary. All appropriate measures are to be taken beforehand.”

  The entire squad of inquisitors pinned Hroka with their cold, unforgiving eyes. The eyes of men and women who had survived the gritty backstreets and killing fields of an empire desperately keeping alive the flickering flame of law and order in a galaxy overwhelmed by petty intrigue, violent crime, and outright rebellion.

  The pressure grew for a long awful moment before all six dipped their heads as one.

  “Of course, sir.” The largest nodded. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  As one, the half dozen saluted, slamming fists to hyper-polymer alloyed armor before spinning on their back heels and preparing to head out before being stopped cold by an unexpected voice.

  “Wait, you guys forgot you pins! Sint, hold on. You need your pin!”

  Sint, the unspoken leader of his squad, turned to glare at the positively beaming woman who was shorter than all of them, wore a desk uniform like their official superior, and wasn’t even wearing blaster, force blade, or equipped with stun bombs. No weapon at all, save for an old fashioned relic of a dachi that she wore with unexpected grace for a desk jockey.

  “Are you serious, Evelyn?” Sint snorted when she placed a glittering ruby insignia upon the collar of his uniform.

  “I doubt such a little trinket will…” Sint blinked. “Damn, there really is a place for it on our uniform.”

  “Of course there is!” The smaller woman declared, her soft brown eyes beaming with excitement. “And this way, you’re authorized to use all the force you need to!”

  Sint blinked, before offering her a cool smile. “Glad to see the Major’s finally hired on competent help.”

  “Absolutely!” Evelyn winked. “Now you and the boys go do whatever you have to in order to complete the mission. You know we won’t hold you back.”

  The cool-eyed men and women flashed matching grins.

  “Just the way we prefer it.”

  “But um… do try to get as much evidence as possible?” Evelyn urged. “You know it makes things easier for our boss if there’s evidence and a smooth chain of custody. Makes typing up final reports so much less of a headache! Especially if there’s any um… collateral damage.”

  This earned a cold chuckle. “Don’t worry, Evelyn. Will give you and the major all the evidence you need.”

  “No way they’re authorized for that!” Snapped one of the agents, glaring at a crackling circular gate.

  Hroka turned his focus to where his agent was pointing before his eyes widened with surprise.

  “They have an actual teleportation array! There’s no way in hell a newly ascending world could afford access to—” His words cut off with a curse when the entire starport rang with blaring alarms as multiple uniformed men and women and more than a few elite mercenaries quickly jogged back to safety away from both the brilliantly shimmering gate and the handful of ships whose crew, save for Hroka’s own elites… knew to stay inside as per gate protocol.

  Hroka’s eyes widened. “That much power… that’s an outer sector jump!” He glared. “Caliban. Prince Caerulus is attempting to flee!”

  “Doubtful sir,” his assistant calmly said even as Sint and his fellow agents quickly raced for the gate.

  Hroka gazed at her curiously. “Why are you so certain of that?”

  “Because the man has absolute authority over the most technologically sophisticated hub on Terra which we know will be worth billions in the very near future. Perhaps tens of billions, if he’s as savvy as we suspect. We also know he has a major interest in the growing financial fortunes of the most powerful faction on this Continent.”

  Hroka frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his carefully trimmed beard. “You mean the Duchy of York, yes?”

  “New York. Correct, sir.”

  Hroka’s gaze narrowed momentarily at the correction, but Evelyn’s gaze was that of a coolly respectful assistant. As always.

  He then flashed a pencil-thin smile. “A duchy associated with multiple anomalies of a most distressing nature. To such a degree that the entire Terran counsel is now anxious to rescind the very relaxing of the rules and strictures that garnered them so many talented Silvers and Bronze elite mercenaries in the first place, a number of whom I see scurrying like ants about the starport even now, to give the Terran Council a fighting shot at stabilizing this world before the inevitable surges.”

  Evelyn nodded. “That is correct, sir. They even enticed us with an offer to surrender immediately upon our review! With all presently claimed titles and territories made official, of course.”

  He sighed. “That, of course, has no chance of being approved, as they have only just begun their ascension. But there request for the expulsion of what are, after all, technically illegal influences upon their world is worth a formal review. And after sharing their concerns regarding the mysterious disappearance and possible demise of multiple noble parties that they are somehow on good terms with… scions to not one but two powerful galactic clans... here we are, expected to do a formal audit of New York while our field agents gather all the evidence needed to ascertain the whereabouts of galactic elites that should never have been permitted here in the first place, and to ascertain whether or not imperial edicts, loose as they are on Ascending worlds, were violated. And let’s not even mention the pair of agents that were supposed to report back weeks ago!”

  Hroka shook his head. “I can tell Sint’s restless already. Let’s hope he doesn’t cause us too many headaches. And is that a bunny I see by the gate priming itself for an interstellar jump?”

  The woman beside him nodded.

  Hroka spluttered. “Did that little rabbit just give my men the finger and call Agent Sint a stuck-up suit?”

  His assistant chuckled throatily. “I believe she did, sir.”

  Hroka blinked in bemusement when the crackling glow faded. “No Lord or Lady of any note passed through that gate.”

  “Correct, sir.”

  His brow furrowed in surprise before he chuckled. “That gate was for the rabbit. A multi-million credit expense for an evolved spirit beast? Polymorphed adventurer? Silver challenger?”

  The woman beside him shrugged. “Excellent question.”

  Hroka barked a mirthless chuckle. “Oh, this has just gotten truly interesting! Alright, first order of business. We head to the Blue Palace and interview Prince Caerulus and ascertain as best we can just what the hell is going on with Earth’s ascension.” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “Too many irregularities, and now we have multiple missing agents to deal with.” He sighed. “You know how the empress absolutely hates it when we misplace her agents.”

  The woman beside him snorted. “Yes, she certainly does.”

  Her casual smirk earned a raised eyebrow. “Careful, Evelyn. I know your family has pull, but that is one woman you don’t want to offend.”

  His assistant dipped her head, tapping her tablet with an exquisitely manicured finger, a sharp contrast from the dachi sheathed at her waste that she frowned down at before shifting half an inch, so as not to disrupt the sleek line of her elegant uniform. “Point taken. Now let’s give Blue Faction’s head a little reminder of who the true powers in the System are.”

  ***

  Caliban took an anxious breath when the door to the heart of his entire Terran operation abruptly burst open, freezing all of his harried employees in their places as multiple killing auras washed over them all.

  “Major Hroka Levalier, Lead Inquisitor for the Terran Sector, here by formal request of the Terran Counsel! You are all to remain at your stations while my men collect all interface data. You will surrender access to your monitors and interfaces and keep your hands on the desk!”

  The speaker flashed a condescending smile at the looks of horror and anxious dismay flashing across so many Blue Corp employees as the room filled with half a half dozen Bronze-Tier agents glaring at them all like wolves before sheep.

  Caliban swallowed, never having seen a collection of such unsavory, brutal looking Inquisitors in one gathering before.

  For a heartbeat, he feared the absolute worst. His enemies had managed to pulls strings sufficient to authorize a full off-the-books purge. It was all he could do not to press a certain button for the sake of his family when he caught the bemused smile of the shortest of the bunch, whose knowing gaze froze him where he stood.

  “Don’t worry. All your associate’s fiduciary information will be kept in the highest of confidence. Your famed status as inviolate bastions of free trade won’t be impugned by our investigation.”

  Caliban blinked. Surprisingly reassured by such civilized words from a commander directing some of the most ruthless men Caliban had seen in a very long time.

  Carrot and stick. Gentle, understanding agent and tyrannical sociopath. There were a dozen variations.

  Caliban’s pounding heart eased just the tiniest bit. If the ruthless killing auras radiating from the field agents was for show—a calculated contrivance to assure cooperation—perhaps they would survive this inquisition after all.

  Major Hroka was graceful enough to ignore Caliban’s momentary freezing up… or perhaps he truly had been oblivious to it, directing his men with curt commands before heading over to Caliban with a single assistant by his side.

  Caliban frowned, noting two of the agents leaving the building entirely, hoping they wouldn’t cause too much trouble in the city, before all his focus was on Major Hroka, suddenly before him.

  Caliban’s heart pounded despite his best efforts to remain calm.

  “Prince Caliban Caerulus. A pleasure.”

  Caliban blinked. If the man wanted to play it that way… “Likewise, Lord Major Hroka. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  “That is a very good question, Your Grace. Come. Best we have this conversation in private, don’t you think?”

  Caliban dipped his head, a stray glance Nikita’s way all the warning he could possibly give as she darted off as discretely as possible.

  “Indeed. I think I know just the place. Please follow me.”

  The woman cleared her throat. “We’ll need access to all client records and your own as well, of course.”

  Caliban’s smile didn’t reach his measuring gaze. “Of course. Save for the sub account of our Terran Branch partner, you may have access to all our financial records.”

  This earned a hard look from Hroka. “That’s not how this works, Your Grace. This is an imperial mandated…”

  Caliban bowed while handing him a tablet.

  “You have actual access to tablets? I thought…” Hroka’s brow furrowed. “Interesting. This was locally made? Fascinating.”

  His assistant affected a polite smile. “May I?”

  Her boss snorted. “Be my guest.”

  The strangely native looking assistant frowned thoughtfully at the display before chuckling softly. “Oh my. This tablet was summoned into existence by a Contender’s will. Delightful! Standard specs, too. It’s not simply a magical treasure, but has a genuine electromana micro-circuit board. Oh, the possibilities!” She cleared her throat, her excited smile becoming professional once more. “And look, sir, it interfaces perfectly with Imperium cyber protocols!”

  Hroka gave her an alarmed look. “Lady Evelyn! We must never merge unknown tech with—”

  She brushed off his words with a casual wave.

  “Oh my. Look here, sir. Our primary suspect’s account actually bears the imperial seal. He has an ally in the imperial court!”

  Hroka rubbed his brow. “This makes things… complicated.”

  The woman shrugged. “Not necessarily. The imperial court’s very far away. They trust us to do our job. Should our suspect actually be guilty of the crimes he’s been accused of…”

  Caliban furrowed his brow. “Might this one ask…”

  Hroka tapped his fingers upon the chrome table they now all sat before, his assistant having retrieved and returned with coffee and donuts to their out of the way conference room so fast that Caliban was almost sure it was a skill.

  “You actually have coffee and donuts, like civilized people. This city is a wonder, Prince Caliban!” Lady Evelyn declared, gently patting his hand. “A true wonder.”

  Caliban took a measured breath. “We are fortunate indeed to be blessed with Contenders so gifted at channeling the infinite potential that an ascending world unlocks into living dream.”

  The pair of agents went deathly still.

  “Are you saying that this city… the star port, the financial and commercial districts… the parks and the teleportation array… all this is the work of a Contender’s will?” Hroka asked incredulously.

  Caliban took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “The teleportation array was built, not forged in dream.” His smile widened before their measuring gazes. “Built by dwarves.”

  Hroka blinked. “Dwarves.”

  Caliban’s grin widened. “Dwarves who have recently completed a contract for twenty odd steam locomotives that will never rust or break down, with coal carts that never run out of fuel. A year long contract just completed within hours of New York’s rather remarkable ascension.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The agent blinked. “Prince Caerulus, do you actually expect us to believe that mythical dwarves are amongst us once more? The tribes were lost. Centuries ago. Only their ruins remain.”

  Caliban gave the man a curious look. “You truly believe that? Fascinating.”

  Hroka furrowed his brow peering at his assistant. “Lady Evelyn, why are you smiling?”

  “Because it appears that a certain Silver Phoenix has had even more wide-ranging repercussions than we had first thought.” She chuckled delightfully. “How absolutely wonderful!”

  Hroka grimaced, rubbing his brow. “More paperwork. Somehow, I just know it will all fall on our office.”

  “No doubt.” She smiled as she took a sip of her coffee, gazing down at whatever was displaying on her tablet. Caliban furrowed his brow, hearing voices that sounded suspiciously like the gruff agents that had stormed into their headquarters— such a contrast to the two individuals presently interrogating him so gracefully—and he’d be a fool to let down his guard for even a second. He knew that.

  Yet when Lady Eveln lowered her coffee cup, smiling so warmly at him with those hauntingly beautiful eyes, it was all he could do to keep his mouth from spilling out anything and everything that could possibly earn a laugh or a smile of approval from the petite beauty before him.

  Radiating such frightening power that his skin crawled.

  So much more powerful than the magics he had once used to charm a certain boy with the virtues of candor. And being just as savvy as his partner, Caliban also voluntarily relaxed and let it take hold.

  “So, Prince Caerulus, how on earth did you manage to find yourself working with a native-born Contender?”

  Her eyes danced entrancingly. Caliban blinked, feeling suddenly dazed and off balance. What was he thinking? He was having coffee and donuts with a pair of his oldest friends, and they were just getting to the good part of what truly had been a tumultuous time, raising this once doomed world to a semblance of prosperity.

  “It certainly was a trial,” he conceded. “The way that boy shot up in power from a low level basic Contender with a touch of Wrath to his build to a full-fledged powerhouse that the entire global counsel fears.”

  “It must have been exciting! Did he truly help you lift Blue Quarter from absolute devastation to the pristine marvel we now see before us, or did you boys perhaps use less savory methods to rush-build these wondrous buildings?” She flashed a knowing smile. “Don’t be shy. You can tell us, Caliban. A secret between friends. We won’t tell a soul, will we, Hroka?”

  Hroka’s brotherly smile was the equal of Evelyn’s own. “We wouldn’t dream of it!”

  Caliban chuckled, smile growing as he brought these two old friends into his confidence. “Truly, I never expected to call a man like that my business partner! Hardly more than a boy, really. Did you know he’s now a full partner of our Terran Savings and Loan branch? And our charter now dictates that we do absolutely everything through our bank! Which means that he earns a full half of all the profits that Blue Corp generates with all our fiduciary interests here on Terra!”

  “Fascinating!” Hroka enthused. “Did he help you purge the goblins? Take out annoying Counsel members who refused to respect your rule from the shadows?”

  Caliban chuckled. “Oh, if only! Those goblins had been trying to rob us blind since the very start, even manipulating my own cousin into trying to steel the bank right out from under me and arrange for an imperial execution for yours truly!” He sighed, shaking his head. “Or was that from a dream? I can’t quite remember.”

  “Pre Silver Phoenix Talisman. Understood,” Evelyn noted.

  “Indeed,” Caliban enthused. “And I can almost say those words. But… no. It would crush me out of existence if I even dared to acknowledge what you and that beautiful boy both speak of so calmly.” He chuckled with genuine mirth. “Imagine waking up to find the handful of city blocks I ruled that were just a single season from being in arrears and seized by my fiduciary foes had transformed into the most magnificent city you can imagine… and somehow knowing that it has always been this way.”

  His warm smile turned hard and cold. “Even if I know I now walk on living dream and that the past I still remember in my screams now never was.” He trembled, eyes growing wide. “That was when the trials truly began. Regions ascending to Black in days that should have taken decades… then territories flooding with giant locusts eager to consume the world as the most vile Silver in this sector tried to make Earth the seed of his dark ascension.”

  The air grew deathly quiet, all eyes firmly on Caliban.

  “Who attempted to ascend?” Hroka hissed.

  Caliban gazed at the major for long moments. “Malice Bane.”

  The man lurched back in his chair. “The supposed founder of the goblin faction? You’re saying he tried to ascend here? Outrageous.”

  Caliban blinked, giving the man a curious look. “You mean you don’t know?”

  The man furrowed his brow. “I’m responsible for this sector. Of course I know everything of significance that happens here.”

  Caliban sighed. “There’s been an informational purge, then.” He turned toward Hroka’s eager-looking assistant. “Will speaking any further cost me my head?”

  She snorted, eyes twinkling. “So dramatic! You can say what you like with your friends, dear Caliban. You know we won’t tell a single soul unworthy of hearing such delicious secrets and rumors!”

  Caliban nodded. “Indeed. That monster made use of multiple pawns to plant exothermics that would have devastated the entire continent, if not destabilized Terra’s fragile mana crust and killed us all… simply to prepare this world for his dark ascension.”

  Hroka stiffened. “What you say is impossible.”

  Caliban tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because there have been absolutely no imperial alarm raised at a Gold’s ascension! Believe me, we would know. There are protocols in place. Extensive protocols… but no one has dared to ascend. Not since Aurelia Silver ascended as a Golden Phoenix, over a thousand years ago.”

  Caliban blinked. “Aurelia? When did I see her last? Back when Greed Bane arranged for my capture and torture…” He rubbed his brow. “Is that right? I can’t seem to… hmm…”

  He blinked when a smiling Evelyn brought him a fresh cup of coffee and a rather tasty-looking pastry. “Don’t strain yourself, dear Caliban. Here. Have another cruller. Delicious, aren’t they?”

  He took a bite of pastry so soft and delicious that it just melted in his mouth, closing his eyes in culinary bliss.

  Hroka cleared his throat. “Is there anything else you care to report regarding your dealings with this Contender?”

  “Of course! We’ve managed to sidestep the annoying regulations keeping dear Eric from being both a Free Agent and giving all his territory to his sister while allowing ourselves extensive fiduciary rein. Thankfully, his sister is more than willing to make extensive use of our shared bank for all of her fiscal needs, which means we’re now effectively underwriting all the business concerns of a rapidly ascending faction with over 35 million highly skilled and motivated citizens with access to extensive resources, including artificer talents and agricultural meccas capable of producing crops infused with both magic and traces of spiritual energy, at a volume that just might be enough to feed an entire continent!”

  Hroka blinked. “Impossible. The territory of York—”

  “—New York.”

  “Quite. The territory of New York should have less than a million survivors in its entirety.”

  Caliban chuckled. “I fear you’re forgetting the 34 million my dear partner pulled free of paradox and very much into the living world.”

  It said something that both inquisitors froze at those words.

  Even Lady Evelyn, her eyes pinning Caliban’s very soul.

  “Explain.”

  It wasn’t a request, it was a command. So Caliban explained in as exquisite detail as he could. Not only the origins of Eric’s resurrected millions, but the nature of their fortunes as well. Everything save for secrets bound by oath that not even compulsion could wrest free.

  Yet the advantage of voluntarily surrendering to that serene state where all was warmth and friendship was that, by working with the current and not struggling against, it was easy to hop past a few inconvenient boulders in the shallows before swimming in deeper waters where his new friends seemed quite happy to tread.

  By the time Caliban took a breather, sipping coffee to rest his throat, Hroka was staring at him like a wild beast. Before glaring and shaking his head.

  “No,” he said, arms crossed, eyes now glittering with displeasure. “What you say is impossible, therefore it is a deliberate falsehood. Therefore… you are deliberately resisting what you should have embraced.”

  Hroka’s calm, scholarly manner transformed to a look of fury, fist pounding the reinforced table and shattering it instantly, sending splinters and cups of coffee and pastries flying in the air.

  “What are you hiding!?” He roared at a confused-looking Caliban.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Evelyn’s eyes twinkled with mirth, still gazing at her tablet, now paying them no mind at all. “Oh, how delightful. Your timing is perfect, sir. Just in time for what comes next.”

  Hroka glared at his assistant. “Evelyn, what the hell are you—”

  At that very moment, someone pounded on the door.

  Hroka’s force blade hummed to life. “Private conference!” He roared.

  “Sir, it’s me! I found it!” Declared none other than an excited Sint.

  Hroka’s force blade, three feet of deadly black flame hissing and crackling in the air, faded back to an innert hilt.

  Caliban’s eyes widened. “That weapon is—”

  “Outlawed, we know,” Emily winked, gently placing her finger on his lips. “Now hush. You’re about to be accused of multiple crimes, so let’s not interrupt.”

  Before a once more clear-headed Caliban could say a word in confusion or protest, his world was suddenly filled with the glaring countenance of an Inquisitor glaring at him like he was utter filth.

  “We found it, sir!” Sint said, waving an odd looking data stick right under Caliban’s nose, along with a manila folder filled with papers. “Proof of his crimes!”

  Hroka’s surprised blink turned into a cold smile. “Good. Shall we?”

  Sint nodded, a pair of his fellows quickly bringing in a fresh, unbroken table while another roughly put Caliban in cuffs, seizing all his possessions while doing so.

  “So you can’t escape,” the man coldly said before shoving an unresisting Caliban back into his seat as Sint began slamming down papers upon the table.

  “Extortion, intimidation, falsified contracts, it’s all here!” Sint said with a certain amount of cold glee. “And most damning of all…” He pulled free a vellum contract radiating a vile black taint that twisted in the air. “Proof that Freetown is, in fact, goblin property, stolen by none other than Caliban Caerulus and Prince Eric Silver!”

  Hroka glared at the paper.

  “Best not touch it directly, sir,” Evelyn recommended as an aside. “Just place it on the table, Sint. Thank you.” She turned to examine it. “Oh my,” she tutted, shaking her head, examining all the pieces of displayed evidence with her boss.

  Caliban took a shuddering breath as his guts twisted with anxious dread.

  “There must be some mistake. I would never—”

  “Shut up, accused!” Sint snapped, glaring Caliban to silence, flaring his aura.

  Caliban swallowed his sense of growing panic. And fury.

  A fury that only grew when he took a shuddering breath, and read the room.

  The way Evelyn and Hroka gazed so intently at the documents, talking in hushed whispers.

  And the way Sint and the others traded cool smiles before two of them saluted and left.

  He was being set up.

  It was the only explanation!

  Unless…

  Lady Evelyn spun around, her countenance no longer the courteous assistant or playful younger sister.

  Her eyes were cold as death, her aura that of an inquisitor ready to pass judgment.

  “Is there anything you wish to confess, Prince Caliban Caerulus?”

  His heart was pounding underneath that pitiless gaze. His jaw clenched, a tiny part of his mind wondering just how deep the rabbit hole went. How deeply had the evidence been planted? How many on his own staff had been compromised? Just long had his enemies been planning this coup?”

  “Speak, accused!” Roared Sint, jostling him with bone-cracking force.

  “I have committed no crime.”

  “We have proof of extortion, fraud, embezzlement, theft of property, and acts of wanton terrorism!” Hroka snapped. “We have multiple contracts signed in your name! Marked with your blood! Blood we tested the moment we shook hands.” He shook his head with pitying contempt “Do you really take us for fools?”

  Lady Evelyn gazed at him for long moments, before holding up the stick drive. “I wonder what secrets this will reveal, Prince Caerulus?”

  Caliban gave a bitter chuckle. “No doubt more clever lies and contrivances orchestrated by those eager to seize power at any cost, much like the documents before you.”

  A blinding flash of pain. Caliban only registered the crack of his jaw when he was sent flying across the room with enough force to dent the Alutopaz wall.

  Had he been mortal, he would have died instantly.

  As it was, for a Bronze-tier professional… Caliban deliberately groaned, head lowered, saying nothing as sausage fingers upon oversized hands dragged him off his speak.

  “No disrespecting your betters, trash!” Sint roared, snarling in his face before slamming his still cuffed frame into the chair that bent from the blow.

  Lady Evelyn’s flawless features were as still as glass before the display of brutality designed to intimidate and terrorize.

  Only when Caliban had stopped shuddering, head jerked up by his hair by another one of the field thugs, did Evelyn dip her head to Sint.

  “Play it.”

  And he did, all while sneering at the look on Caliban’s horrified countenance as he was forced to watch photos of himself signing goblin treaties, shaking hands with obvious killers, and worse of all, coldly observing with hands behind his back like a genuine criminal mastermind, a handful of collard scientists desperately working to stabilize a Valorian core.

  Hroka’s eyes widened in horrified disgust, fists clenched. “It was you. You’re the one responsible… outrageous!” Hroka twisted around, jabbing his finger into Caliban’s dismayed and slightly battered face. “Millions of people died! Half a world rendered infertile without extensive Silver-Tier aid! What you did was monstrous. Unforgivable!”

  Sint nodded. “Damn right, sir. He’s committed treason against the empire. Him and his associates. Eric and Elonia Silver.”

  Hroka’s jaw clenched. “From the evidence we see before us, it seems that all three are involved.”

  Caliban’s eyes widened with dismay. Could they not see it? He forced a bitter smile. “So, now you will use this as pretext to get rid of the surviving members of the Silver clan as well as myself, is that it?”

  Hroka’s lips pinched in displeasure. “They will certainly be made to pay for their crimes, as will you.”

  Caliban couldn’t suppress his bitter laughter, even when the thug Sint slammed him to the ground again.

  “Silence, accused!” The man roared, leaning over and cursing in his ear. “Or I’ll tear off your balls and choke you to death with them!”

  Caliban laughed all the louder. “Oh, how convenient! A corrupt counsel that did all it could to destroy the only people trying to bring life and hope back to this world, only to fail miserably when Eric brought back the entire state of New York such that even the System acknowledged his feat! Millions of lives saved! A duchy formed! We now have bountiful crops, fertile soil, and an entire working rail line system! We now have one area that is absolutely stable, bringing hope that maybe this world is salvageable after all! Deserving a fate better than being strip-mined of all its resources and left an abandoned husk before it eventually goes supernova. And none of that matters! Because our foes only needed to plant false evidence to STEAL it all away! The endless rich delves of Ashland! The towers of Zor! An actual fearie realm! Not one but three cities that Eric Silver raised from nothing! Prizes the entire Terran counsel of puppets are so very eager to claim for their Silver masters scheming in the shadows. Silvers that could so EASILY falsify a bunch of papers and still photographs!”

  Caliban chuckled bitterly glaring his contempt for them all. “I can only imagine how those assholes are laughing their heads off at this very moment, that they were able to manipulate what had once been the most revered of institutions, the Imperial Bureau of Inquisition! Their motto to bring light to the darkness and expose the truth for all to see! Well, all the rest of the galaxy feels now is fear and disgust because you’re all so goddamned corr—”

  His words were cut off when a roaring Sint pounded his shuddering frame.

  “Insulting the IBI is a capital offense! And I’m gonna personally make sure you—”

  “Enough.”

  That single word froze Sint and the other glowering agents now looming over a groaning and battered Caliban.

  A word so filled with presence and authority that Caliban’s heart nearly skittered to a dreadful stop.

  Sint’s eyes grew wide when he found he couldn’t move. Stiff as a board, as were all the thugs beside him.

  Surprisingly, it hadn’t been Hroka that had spoken, though he alone was unaffected.

  “Lady Evelyn?”

  Her glossed lips pursed as she gazed at her tablet display, then nodded. “I think we have everything we need here. Except for a certain wayward mouse.”

  Hroka’s look of consternation was nothing compared to their field agents when she abruptly opened the door, catching a startled Nikita by the collar of her dress before she could fall over.

  Her eyes widened and she flinched before Lady Evelyn’s measuring gaze.

  “Do you have it?”

  Nikita trembled. “I’m sorry, I don’t…” She abruptly paled, lips quavering as she crumpled in despair, all pretense fading before the inevitability of the doom they could all so clearly sense in Lady Evelyn’s pitiless stare.

  “Mercy! Please! We didn’t… please don’t—”

  Evelyn touched her lips. “The records and recording that I know Caliban sent you to hide away. You didn’t have time to both flee and hover about the door, fantasizing about how you could possibly save your lover, so frozen with indecision that…” She smiled coldly. “Here we are.”

  Nikita paled, before bursting out in tears.

  “Good. Hand it over.”

  Gazing at a bruised and battered Caliban with fear and desperate apology, a nonetheless shaking Nikita handed over her modern looking purse, containing so many secrets.

  Sint chuckled coldly. “Why do they always stick around? They should run immediately and get rid of their guilt. But they never do.”

  Evelyn abruptly laughed, eyes flashing with wild mirth. “So true, dear Sint. They never do.”

  She turned to Hroka. “It’s about time we headed to Arcadia and had a talk with a certain System-recognized Duchess, don’t you think?”

  He dipped his head. “Indeed.”

  Sint grinned wickedly at that, smacking his fist into his palm. “Nothing beats administering justice.”

  Evelyn winked. “I quite agree. Now let us be off. I am quite anxious to speak to a certain prince before the hour grows any later.”

  She turned to Caliban, pinning him with her gaze.

  “Has he arrived yet?”

  His heart clenched, horrified to realize that it was now impossible to lie to her. The truth slipping free as inevitably as life faded to death and decay. No matter how desperately one strove to resist. No matter how powerful one thought themselves to be.

  “No, Lady Evelyn. His ship hasn’t arrived yet.”

  This earned a glare from Sint. “This fool has a ship on top of everything else? Illegal tech! No wonder he was able to get ahead of his betters.” He then snorted. “Not that one more petty crime will have any effect on a death sentence. Ha!”

  Evelyn simply nodded. “You will send him a message. Tell him that a full half dozen inquisitors with proof of his myriad crimes are eager to have a pointed discussion with him in his sister’s palatial courtyard.”

  Her eyes glittered with a flash of something that chilled him to the quick.

  Death.

  He saw death in her gaze.

  “And Caliban?”

  “Yes, Lady Evelyn?”

  “Do tell him that they are all Deep Bronze. And that they will all count.” She flashed a smile so cold it left him breathless. “All of them. Will you do that for me?”

  Caliban shuddered and nodded, sending the message along to his panicked friend… before adding an addendum that Eric should take his sister and get the hell off Earth ASAP.

  He knew he was risking certain death, giving his friend even that much warning. But with the look the formerly demure assistant was giving him… he thought any of them actually surviving an imperial inquisition was a long shot at best.