Stren hated being parted from the Simo. Other ships, in comparison, were slow, bulky things. And they were loud. Particularly the carrier-class one that he now rode, owing largely to its crew of nearly two hundred. Humans were noisy creatures, as were the systems necessary to support such a large group in the inhospitable vacuum of space.


    “You’re frowning again, sir.”


    That was Cori, his first mate. He was tall, with sandy hair, and a slender build that bordered on being thin. Despite his fragile frame, however, he was a vicious fighter– and an even better crewman.


    “Am I?” Stren raised one hand to his face, finding that he was, in fact, frowning.


    “I know you’re remiss to be away from the Simo, sir, but this is important,” Cori said, unable to hide his slight smile.


    “I know it is,” the Admiral responded with a sigh, “but that makes it no more pleasant. Let’s get this done and get out– before the corpies have a chance to stick their noses into it.”


    As if on cue, two holo-terminals opened before the men. They each bore only two words: ENTERING ATMOSPHERE. Ten seconds more, and the lumbering spacecraft jolted.


    The Simo would have landed by now, he thought irritably. He knew why these were his orders, of course; the effectiveness of stealth diminished greatly once an enemy laid eyes on it. The fact that the higher-ups allowed reconnaissance from the interceptor in the first place was surprising.


    And, of course, this was a peacekeeping mission.


    For now, anyway.


    It took the large, lumbering craft nearly half an hour to reach the landing zone, and another five minutes to make touchdown. Torrent housed only ten spaceports, and though this was the largest, it was just barely enough to accept the large hauling ship.


    Stren growled, stumbling slightly as another jolt ran through the massive craft. He’d half a mind to commandeer the ship, put his own crew in charge, but he knew that was the height of foolishness. There was a world of difference between piloting the Simo and this behemoth– and mistakes in something this size would be catastrophic.


    “We appear to have landed, sir,” Cori said, his voice deadpan.


    “You don’t say.”


    “Actually, I do.”


    A smile tugged at the Admiral’s lips, but he chased it away. “None of that once we leave this room, Cori.” This was by far the relationship he preferred to keep with his crew, but there was a time and place for everything.


    “Of course, sir.”


    “Then let’s be off.”


    The two made their way down to the lower part of the spaceship’s hulls. The soldiers stole a glance as they passed, but only for the briefest of moments, opting to focus on the work at hand. That was good to see– each and every one of them understood the role they played.


    “Who are we meeting with today?”


    “The de facto leader of the planet.”


    “They have one of those?”


    “Sort of. The planet is split into ten sectors, each housing five of their floating cities. Each one has their own local leader, but they all seem… not subservient, but they tend to to listen to the leader of the first.”


    “Is he an Augmented?”


    “Supposedly not.”


    “Supposedly?”


    Cori nodded. “Information about Torrent is tightly regulated. It was easier a century or so ago, but things have changed since then. Most of what we know comes from people who worked on the planet. Teachers, doctors… that sort of thing. Most of those positions have since been taken over by natives, and very few descendants chose to leave the planet afterwards.”


    “And those who did are bound by the Accords.”


    “Exactly.”


    The Accords were the one piece of legislature upheld across the many galaxies that humanity had colonized. They were an old thing, far older than any living human, but their words were law– and for good reason. They guaranteed a certain quality of life for every human, regardless of their home planet. Under the Accords, information was also a protected substance. Breaking the Accords was a one-way trip to prison, no matter who you were.


    Even the ICC was subject to that rule.


    They were just one of many factions across the universe, after all– and the others would salivate at the opportunity to diminish their influence.


    “What do you think of all this, Cori?”


    “Sir?”


    “Of our mission here.”


    “You don’t pay me to think, sir.”


    “But I’m asking you to.”


    “Hmm…” A look of consideration crossed Cori’s face. “Even if you ask me that, I’m not sure. We’re soldiers… just like you. Not moral compasses. We’ve always looked to you for guidance. You lead, we follow. It’s simple like that. But if you’re asking whether our mission here is morally wrong…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But if not you, it’ll be someone else. I’d at least like to think that you’ll be more merciful.”


    “Mercy, eh?” Stren let out a dry laugh. “I seem to remember being awarded for how many our motley crew has killed.”


    Another shrug. “Some people deserve to die.”


    “Surely you don’t think the people here deserve to die?”


    “Of course I don’t,” Cori answered, somewhat briskly. “They’ve done nothing wrong.”


    “But?”


    His face hardened. “They have a natural monopoly on the most important substance in the world. That’s hard to swallow.”


    “So it all comes down to necessity?”


    Cori nodded. “I suppose. It’s like I said… at the end of the day, if not you, they’ll send someone else. I at least have faith that our crew will try to avoid unnecessary casualties… and prevent them where we can. And besides, as far as I can tell, the threat is real. We''re just... Taking advantage of it.”


    “I see.” Stren came to a stop before the bulkhead door. “Thank you.”


    “Any time, sir.”


    As if spurred on by Cori, the large metal panel swung open, letting sunlight stream in. it was soft and gentle, unlike the harsh light of the two’s homeworld. The door itself hit the ground below with a metallic clang, forming a ramp. Soldiers marched out on either side of it, their pace and cadence perfectly matched.


    Stren would have done away with the formalities on most other days, but he understood the significance of the gesture. He was here as a representative of the ICC– that carried weight.


    Cori followed one pace behind as he strode down the ramp.


    Each of the soldiers raised one hand in a salute as they passed, but his eyes were fixed on something else; three foreign figures quickly approaching. They all wore the same uniform; dark blue embroidered with bright gold. Though he had never seen them before, he recognized them immediately. The Tideguard. The planet’s Augmented military unit.


    Even without any prior information, Stren would have recognized the man in the center as their leader. He was tall, with pale gold hair and dark blue eyes. His thin frame seemed at odds with his broad shoulders, and though he seemed no older than 40 years, an age beyond time was written on his face.


    He bowed as the Admiral approached, one hand held over his heart. “We welcome Admiral Stren, envoy of the Interstellar Colonization Corporation.” His voice was warm and smooth, without a hint of unease.


    “Thank you,” Stren said, returning the gesture. Cori did the same at his side. “Might I ask who it is I’m speaking with?”


    “My name is Nira.” The golden-haired man answered as he straightened. “Commander of the Tideguard. I’ll be your escort for the duration of your stay here on Torrent. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you find yourself in need of anything at all.” Though he seemed genuine, his dark eyes were cold.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    “Thank you,” the Admiral said, a touch unnerved. He’d seen eyes like those many times before. The Commander was taking his measure. And he was no doubt an Augmented– killing those gathered here would be a simple matter.


    “Please follow me.” Nira turned, the blue-green glow parting as he strode towards the building he’d come from. It was made mostly of glass, as was the city beyond it. The spaceport at which they’d landed was on the outskirts of the city; no doubt placed there to avoid potential damage to the megastructure.


    Stren forced his pace to remain slow and steady, languidly following a few meters behind. He was a guest here, and a representative of the ICC– not someone to be ordered around. Neither Nira or his two companions seemed to care.


    “Any information on this man?”


    Cori shook his head. “None beyond his name and rank.”


    Those damned Accords. “Any combat data on the Tideguard?”


    “None at all. Scientists from multiple factions have tried to lure one off-planet, but no dice. One thing’s for certain, though.”


    “What’s that?”


    “Tangling with a hydrokinetic on a planet made of water is a terrible idea.”


    The Admiral smiled at that. “True enough.” He paused. “You should go back to the ship. Make sure no one steps out of line.”


    His first mate stiffened. “Absolutely not, sir. I’m here as your bodyguard–”


    “Against people who could drown us with a thought,” Stren interjected. “That’s why I want you there. To keep the others in line.” He didn’t quite trust the ICC crew. They were well-trained, no doubt, but for many of them, this was their first deployment. Not only that…


    “You don’t trust the scientists.”


    The Admiral smiled. “You know me so well.” He’d seen firsthand the many lines they were willing to cross in the name of science. It was a trait that the ICC actively searched for in their scientists, but one that never sat well with him. Soldiers, after all, were often the ones who paid the price.


    “Very well,” Cori said, his voice stiff. “By your command.” And the sound of his footsteps grew quieter.


    Stren turned his attention back to the three Tideguards, increasing his pace to catch them. One had turned to observe the exchange, and his dark blue eyes fixed on Cori’s receding figure for a moment before turning back to the front.


    “Is your companion well?”


    It took the Admiral a second to realize Nira’s question was directed towards him. “Yes. I asked that he stay behind to keep the peace.” Did he hear Cori’s footsteps, or was it something else? It was always difficult to tell with Augmented.


    “I see.” The Commander’s voice was perfectly neutral. He stopped short as they came within a meter of their destination, sharply turning on his heel. “I’m sure you’re aware of the details regarding today’s meeting,” he said briskly.


    “But to reiterate: you will be meeting with the unofficial leader of Torrent. While this meeting will take place on our planet– due to necessity– your meeting space is to be treated as neutral ground by both parties, and we expect all present to abide by the laws of the Accord.”


    Nira paused, giving time for his words to sink in. “The three of us shall be present. Do you wish to bring any other members of your faction with you?”


    Stren shook his head. “Not in the slightest.”


    “Do you have any weapons?”


    He smiled wryly. The odd timing of this question was conducted with purpose. It was a message; that even if he did have a weapon, it was of little use. “Just one.” The Admiral reached for his waist, removing the firearm from his waist.


    Nira’s icy facade cracked for the first time. “This is an old thing.”


    Stren nodded. “Passed down in my family for generations. I expect it back once our meeting concludes.”


    The Commander nodded. “Of course.”


    Those words, more than anything, gave Stren some sort of comfort. The Tideguard before him understood the importance of a soldier’s weapon. That, at least, was some form of common ground.


    “If you’ll follow me.”


    The building’s interior was pristine. The glass walls shone with the light of Coral, ebbing and flowing irregularly, undulating with every passing second. A number of others dressed in military uniforms– not all Tideguards– stood rigidly with their backs to the wall, each guarding a door.


    A single table, made of metal and glass, stood in the center. A single man sat at its far side.


    Nira made a gesture with his hand, and the ring of military personnel stepped out of the building at one. “They will remain outside– for your safety and ours.” He moved to stand at the other man''s back.


    Stren nodded. It mattered little. He followed the Augmented to the table. Two cups sat atop its smooth surface, each holding a steaming liquid. The man seated behind it had jet-black hair and dark green eyes.


    “Please, have a seat.” His voice, just like Nira’s, was perfectly calm. “I understand you’re from Thali,” he continued. “I hear this tea is favored on that planet.”


    The Admiral reached for the closer of the two cups. He took a sip, surprised at the familiar taste– tangy citrus with a subtly sweet aftertaste. “My thanks.”


    The blue-eyed man nodded. “Luxuries are easily acquired here.” He took a sip from his own cup before leaning back in his seat, fingers laced over one knee. “My name is Sai. You are Admiral Stren, yes? I’ve heard much about you. Are you to be our executioner?”


    Stren blinked, caught off guard.


    The man– Sai– smiled wryly. “I thought it best to do away with the subtleties and hidden meanings. If you’d prefer them, however…”


    The Admiral shook his head. “No. This suits me just fine.” He hesitated. “But why meet with me, then?”


    “You’re a weapon, not the wielder,” Sai responded. “I thought it in our best interest to take your measure.” He sighed. "And it''s not as if you''re the only weapon held at our throats. Make no mistake, I’ve always been aware of our nation’s precarious situation. Our home was always destined to become a battlefield. I hoped we would balance on the edge until the end of my days, but it seems that’s not meant to be.”


    His words, though far more complicated, were reminiscent of Cori’s. “And if it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.”


    Sai nodded. “Exactly. You may be a weapon, but ultimately, you will be the one who decides the scope of damage. That is why you''re here, is it not? In response to one of your many competitors?”


    “And that’s why you agreed to this meeting? To take my measure?”


    The wry smile returned. “In part. I also believe that these things are best done face-to-face… and I consider myself a good judge of character. It’s important.” He leaned forward. “So, I ask again: are you to be our executioner?”


    “Nothing has been decided yet," Stren answered honestly. "Officially, I''m here as a peacekeeper. It might happen. It might not."


    Sai laughed. It was a cold, mirthless sound, devoid of any warmth or joy. "You wouldn''t be here otherwise," he said lightly. "Every other nation covets our abundance of Coral. It''s no secret."


    The Admiral nodded slowly. "It''s as you said. There are... People more morally unscrupulous than the ICC. That''s why I''m here. But... I’m a soldier. I’ll follow my orders. Whatever they may be. I look after more than just my own life,” he added somewhat hastily. “There are people that follow me. People that I need to protect.”


    Sai nodded. “I understand. Our positions are similar in that way, though they differ in scale. I may rue this day, especially in those to come, but I understand. I bear you no ill will. All I ask is that you keep the casualties to a minimum–  even as we struggle in response.”


    Stren grudgingly found himself respecting the man before him. No- not grudgingly. He was someone deserving of respect. Admiration, even.


    “I’ll do what I can.”


    Another nod. "That''s all I can ask." The green-eyed man drained his mug, then stood. "If there is nothing more on your agenda, I''ll take my leave."


    "Already?" Stren tried- and failed- to hide his surprise.


    "As I said. I consider myself a good judge of character." Sai gestured towards the entrance of the building. "While you''re free to travel the planet as you wish, I ask that you allow an officer to remain by your side at all times, should you choose to leave the confines of your ship. For your own safety."


    The Admiral shook his head. "I won''t be staying on the surface long."


    "Very well." Sai offered a shallow bow. "I understand your hesitance, but I hope you see the beauty of our planet before its fall."


    "May I ask you a question?"


    "You may, though I will not guarantee you an answer."


    "If I were someone less agreeable, what was your planned course of action?"


    His green eyes narrowed. "What is the purpose of that question?"


    "You aim to take my measure. Is it so wrong of me to do the same?"


    "That was dependent on your character. If you were only mildly disagreeable, the outcome here likely would have been no different."


    "And if I was highly disagreeable?"


    The consideration on his face was clear. "On the extreme end, we may have killed you." His voice was light and matter-of-fact, a stark contrast to the brutality of his words.


    Stren narrowed his eyes. The answer was yet another means of taking his measure, he was sure. "Even though such an act would have violated the Accords?" He was here as a peacekeeper- not a conqueror.


    "Even still."


    "Why?"


    Sai tilted his head. "Why else? For the sake of my people."


    "I don''t follow."


    "The limits of war are decided by those guiding it. If condemning myself might ease their woes, that is a small price to pay."


    "You say dangerous things with such ease."


    He laughed. "A result of my upbringing, perhaps. Everyone on this planet is raised with the knowledge of our home''s precarious position. It''s instilled a sort of... Defiance in us."


    "That seems like a harsh upbringing."


    "Perhaps. But lying to our children would be harsher still."


    "... I understand."


    The black-haired man stepped around the table to offer Stren one hand. "I won''t lie and say that it''s been a pleasure- but I''m glad to see that you seem reasonable."


    The Admiral accepted it after a moment of hesitation. "I understand," he said tersely. "I can''t stop what''s to come, but I''ll do what I can. I give you my word."


    Sai''s face softened ever so slightly. "Thank you." The sincerity in those two words was apparent.


    "Then I''ll take my leave as well." Stren''s holo-watch beeped as he stood. Frowning, he looked down at it- and then choked on his own breath as he read the displayed message.


    Across from him, Nira''s actions mirrored his own.


    "Wait."


    "Yes?"


    "I''m afraid I''ll have to take you up on your offer." He sighed. "I apologize. It seems my daughter has caused some trouble."


    Sai raised an eyebrow. "Your daughter?"


    Stren bristled ever so slightly. "Yes."


    "Don''t interpret ill-intent where there is none," the green-eyed man said coolly. "If she''s here on this planet- without your direct assistance- the Tideguard will have quite a few questions for her. I''ll make sure nothing comes of it."


    "... Thank you."


    "A small price to pay for your favor. Not that I expect anything of the sort," he added with a knowing smile. "Nira. Go with him."


    The golden-haired Tideguard stepped forward at that, his previously troubled expression nowhere to be seen. "Follow me, please."


    Stren followed him as he stepped towards the building''s exit.


    "I may owe you an apology."


    He stopped short. Of all the possible words, those six were the most confusing ones Nira could have uttered. "Whatever for?"


    "I just received a report that my son was involved in the incident regarding your daughter. There''s no sign of harm, but he has a rather... Unique disposition."


    "How unique?"


    The Tideguard''s lips curved into the slightest of smiles. "Very unique." He paused before continuing, and his icy demeanor returned. "You''re free to traverse the planet as you wish. Sai has chosen to trust you. I ask that you don''t take it lightly- from one soldier to another."


    "Sai?" That was an odd way to address one''s direct superior.


    "I was his friend before I was his subordinate." He paused again, and his voice turned even colder as he spoke. "I trust Sai''s judgement. But if you try to harm anyone during your stay here on Torrent, I will be forced to intervene." His words were devoid of anger and threat alike; the held only the cold certainty of death.


    "You may not believe me, but I have no desire to harm the innocents."


    "I understand." Nira held one hand out, the old firearm balanced on his palm. "I''ll return this to you. I do, however, ask that you keep it hidden." His action, of course, held another meaning: the weapon itself was of no consequence.


    "Thank you. I''ll do just that." Despite that, Stren was glad to have it back. Its smooth, worn metal brought him no small amount of comfort.