It was a small thing—pulling the weapon from that raider’s hands. He had still felt a little surge of heat under his skin, but there had been no sharp headache, no planetary quake, no fear of losing control. Just a moment of focus, a wave of the hand, and the rifle was gone—a clean, personal win.

  Those felt rare.

  Soren leaned against one of the rusted raider vehicles that looked like it hadn't run in years, watching the dust settle in the aftermath of the fight. The ringing in his ears from gunfire had faded. The relay compound was quiet now, save for the occasional clink of spent casings being stepped on or the clatter of equipment as it was looked through.

  He could feel the others nearby. Not just see or hear them—but feel them. It was subtle, like being aware of a heat source in the room or the weight of someone standing behind you with their hand almost touching your back. Aurania burned like beautiful fire in his senses—she always did. Violet flickered with intensity, Tamiyo was a calmer presence. Inelius felt like discipline and loyalty. Veolo was raw and passionate, Amalia was sunshine. And Riza was a silver lining of moonlight in a lifelong night of tragedy.

  Whatever this ability was, it wasn’t entirely conscious. It was a sensation that remained once focused, like holding a handful of threads that told him people were near. It would last for a while like music in the background, until eventually he realized he hadn't heard it for minutes or even hours and he needed to press play again.

  It would probably exhaust him if he tried to keep it going all the time, but it was new, so he liked practicing when the thought occurred.

  The team was combing through the compound. Aurania had contacted the LU to request a crew be dispatched that they could hand custody of the scene over to. There had been some back and forth, but they eventually complied—Aurania had yet to meet an LU officer that wouldn’t yield to her.

  But the shuttle wouldn't be here for several hours, not a lot could be done about that. So they began to slowly process the scene, fueled by a mix of curiosity, boredom, and duty.

  Veolo and Inelius took the east side. Amalia and Violet moved through the supply crates and storage sheds. Riza escorted Tamiyo down but then returned to her high perch to watch for movement.

  Soren collected bodies and staged them all together, even returning Trask's severed limbs to him. They had been adversaries, but still deserved dignity and respect. Tamiyo checked the bodies as Soren placed them down, looking for anything relevant worth including in the report.

  Most had nothing. Some had only scraps of local currency, or old maps. A few had Liberty Union rations—probably stolen from the convoys they’d hit.

  Aurania checked the tower for records, communications, manifests—whatever data might possibly be pertinent. But none of them rushed as they worked, there simply was no need. By the time Riza told them she spotted the LU shuttle, the sun was set and the sky was getting darker by the minute, fading from indigo to ink.

  The shuttle was large, coming in low and slow and kicking up red dust in every direction as it landed outside the north gate. A squad stepped out in standard gear, rifles ready but slung low—more for procedure than real threat. The cleanup crew followed behind, boxes and crates already unpacking themselves from the shuttle’s storage bay.

  Aurania met them at the gate and conversed with the officer taking charge of the scene. She was human, a rare sight in these parts—she cast a long, unsure glance at Soren but didn’t say anything to him. Aurania gave word that the LU would be giving them a lift back to Boadicea, and the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

  Riza emerged from the shadows as Aurania was finishing up her handoff. She strode past them unhurried and casually said, “Oh shit, hey Lynn, good to see you.”

  The LU officer taking over the scene snapped to attention and saluted Riza, who just chuckled and told her “At ease,” never even slowing her stride.

  Soren climbed aboard the shuttle, finding a seat beside Violet and Tamiyo. The door sealed, the engines whined, and they lifted off toward Boadicea. It had been a two-hour hike to get out here, the pilot said it would only take 5-10 minutes to fly back.

  Leaning back into the seat, Soren let his shoulders relax a little. He rolled his head to the side and casually looked at the gun on Violet’s thigh. “Can I see that thing?”

  She looked at him for a moment, then drew Morgan’s Mercy and handed it to him.

  It was an extraordinary work of craftsmanship. Although slightly dirty from combat, the deep nickel finish still reflected light the same way a pool of blood would. The heat-sink magazine design looked ingenious, Soren had never seen anything like it.

  “How do you eject—oh I see,” Soren said, observing it carefully. He handed it back to her. “That thing makes some gnarly noises when you shoot it.”

  Violet laughed a little. “I feel like it has a mind of its own sometimes. It’s blown holes in people when I swear I should’ve missed the shot.”

  “Damn handy companion then,” Soren responded.

  He exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment, letting his senses stretch out. He didn’t need to refocus yet, he could still feel everyone around. And as they approached town, he began sensing more, though he couldn’t immediately pinpoint where.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Raine. Brolgar. Brana. Venlin. Amaryn. Cale, Tarnik, and Drolv. The whole town entered his perceptions, faint but unmistakable. He couldn’t tell what anyone was up to, just that they were there.

  By the time the shuttle touched down, it was maybe an hour until midnight. Aurania directed the pilot to head towards an opening near The Ghost of Mandachor to drop them off. Brolgar, Brana, and Raine were all waiting just outside the ship for their return.

  The team hopped off the shuttle, thanked them for the ride, and took their leave.

  Aurania dismissed most of them to go drop gear and wind down for the night, but Soren and Violet she directed to walk with her.

  “Let’s go wake the mayor,” she said.

  Boadicea was mostly asleep—storefronts shuttered, lanterns dimmed to flickering coals. A few drunk voices drifted from the saloon, and someone was snoring on a porch down the street. The wind was calmer but still moved light clouds of dust around as they walked toward the three-story building.

  They made their way through the darkened town with purpose, and it didn’t take long before they reached the mayor’s office. A pair of lanterns still glowed behind the upper window—Soren could feel Venlin’s presence inside.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled. “He’s awake. Feels like he’s nervous.”

  Violet and Aurania looked at him for a moment but didn’t even bother acting surprised at him displaying some new party trick.

  Aurania pounded the door twice before pushing it open without waiting. It wasn’t locked. They made their way to the third floor office.

  The mayor stood near his desk, coat off and shirt slightly unbuttoned, but otherwise still impeccably dressed. Rings glinted on almost every one of his twenty fingers as he swirled a glass of dark liquor in one hand. He didn’t look surprised to see them—he looked tired.

  Violet entered first, hand casually resting on the grip of Morgan’s Mercy, still in its holster. Aurania and Soren entered behind her, observing the room before they spoke. He didn’t have any guards with him, they were alone.

  Mayor Venlin Dread nodded politely to the group, then said, “I assume the operation was successful.” It wasn’t a question.

  “You knew it would be,” Aurania responded. She held an edge in her tone, but was otherwise calm.

  There was a tense beat of silence before Venlin sighed and set his drink down. “You let any of them live?”

  “We gave them the chance,” Aurania said. “None took it.”

  Venlin shook his head lightly, eyes on the floor. “Wish things didn’t need to get so complicated, but no stopping it I suppose.”

  “Why give us the run around?” Soren asked. “Why not just tell us what was going on? You had to know we’d figure it out.”

  He raised his palms slightly, an expression of fatigue and frustration. “I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, I guess.”

  He inhaled and sighed. “This place was quiet before the LU arrived. And like I said, not everyone wanted to join, but I understood why it was necessary. But… the people. Not all of them did. Some of them I don’t think could even handle the truth.”

  “So why work with the raiders?” Aurania said.

  “Our arrangement began long before the LU showed up. You could view it as extortion I suppose, but Boadicea didn’t have the manpower to fight back against their group. So I had little choice. I managed to convince them to receive shipments from our exports quietly instead of violently, and for a long time, it worked.”

  Soren crossed his arms. “And once Mol’eyne joined the Liberty Union?”

  “There was no way to keep the hand-offs secret, there would have been a paper trail.”

  Venlin paced a little, his bottom hands moving to his hips. “We’d been working together so long that Trask had plenty of evidence to get me removed from power if he tipped off the LU.”

  “So it was about being in control after all,” Aurania said with a slight hint of disdain.

  “No!” Venlin answered quickly. “At least… not for the reasons you’re thinking. You probably think of me as, what? Some power hungry tyrant? Wanting people to bow down so I can be king of nothing? I get how it looks.”

  Soren glanced at Aurania and Violet. None of them said anything.

  “I love this town,” Venlin said quietly. “Flawed as it may be, I love it and the people in it. If I fail, the Liberty Union will likely install some outsider to run the place.”

  “Would that be so bad?” Soren asked.

  Venlin shot him a look, then turned to Aurania. “Would you let someone from outside come in and tell your people how to live their lives? Set quotas they have to hit or risk losing the precious resources they need to survive?”

  It was starting to all make sense. Venlin wasn’t the villain, it was just like Aurania had said back at the compound—it wasn’t all black and white. Soren found he didn’t dislike Venlin now that the truth was out, he actually felt respect for the man.

  They kept talking, and Venlin explained that with how the people of Boadicea were, they very likely would not follow orders from a Liberty Union appointed governor. Mayor Dread was the only thing holding the town together. Flaws and all, he saw them as worthy of the chance to survive in the LU, but he knew the town would fall apart without him.

  Soren felt a chill as he thought about the complexities of the town and their situation. Then he realized how quiet everything seemed. His perceptions had worn off.

  “Why not give Trask a heads up about us coming?” Violet asked.

  “Maybe I wanted out,” Venlin answered. “Just didn’t know what was the right move.”

  Soren closed his eyes as Aurania and Violet kept speaking with Venlin. He inhaled slowly, focusing on stretching out his perceptions again. They slowly returned, one by one, just dots of life buzzing around somewhere nearby.

  He opened his eyes, listening to the conversation, but not hearing much. His attention was held by the fireflies of sentience all around him. Most of the team flitted about his senses, he guessed they were at the ship getting ready to sleep. He picked up on Drolv too, likely at the saloon.

  A pit dropped in Soren’s stomach, and he felt like something gripped around his chest. He closed his eyes and focused harder, searching frantically this time. It was there when we came into town, I know it was. His eyes opened again, and he froze for a moment in terror.

  “I can’t say I agree with you,” Aurania told Venlin, “but I do at least under—”

  She stopped mid-sentence, then looked at Soren. “What is it?”

  Soren opened his mouth, but his breath caught. He glanced at Venlin, then back to Aurania, grasping to understand.

  Then his ears popped as his fight or flight kicked in, and he looked at Violet.

  “I can’t sense Amaryn anymore.”

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