Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The streets in this part of town are dark and dirty, shadows distorting any natural light the sun may give. Despite the Queen’s best intentions, and her success in improving the situation for over three quarters of her subjects, these parts are still untouched by her gentle spirit.

Rodan hides a grimace as he makes his way through the small alleys. It’s been a while since he showed himself in these circles – ever since the Grand Celesta Galaxy took place and he became an Astral, he’s mostly left his old ways – but the knowledge of how to handle himself here hasn’t left him yet.

He’s grateful for it, now.

And he’s also grateful he’d kept his old contacts, even though the one he’s about to visit is… less than pleasant.

Putting that out of his mind for now, the small Faramian pulls his hood further over his head and ducks into the last alley. There’s only one door in the metal wall here, and instead of old and broken as is the standard for these slumps, it’s clean and sturdy.

And there are guards in front of it.

Rodan ignores the twinge of trepidation he feels and instead makes his way over to them, pausing a few feet away. A quick glance towards their hands show them both ready to grab their guns at the slightest hint of aggression.

The Astral, however, isn’t fazed.

‘’I believe the boss is expecting me,’’ he says instead, glaring at them from under his hood. He pulls his hand out of his pocket just enough for them to catch the glint of gold.

Immediately the two men pause, and then slowly back away from the door. Rodan hides a smirk and saunters past them, pulling the golden card fully out of his pocket and quickly sliding it into a hidden groove. There’s a soft beeping sound, then the card is expelled and he grabs it, shoving it back into his pocket.

The door opens and he steps inside, where it’s eerily silent. The click of the lock behind him should, by all means, make him nervous, but he’s too used to it. Instead he makes his way through the richly decorated corridor with ease.

At the end of the hall, there’s a half-opened door, the flickering light of a fire reflecting on the ground.

Rodan rolls his eyes.

‘’Still as dramatic as always, I see.’’

He pauses in the doorway, not even bothering to glance around the luxurious, shadowed room, instead focusing on the man in one of the large chairs. Said man is smirking at him, looking just like the smaller Faramian remembered him despite not having seen him in nearly four years now.

‘’Ah, Gasgus,’’ comes a smooth, velvety voice. ‘’I was wondering if you’d ever show up again. Should I bow to you and call you Lord Astral now?’’

Rodan snorts and rolls his eyes. ‘’Don’t you dare, bastard,’’ he growls, stepping further into the room as if he owns the place. He takes the only free chair left in the room, ignoring the uncomfortable heat from the fire. ‘’I’m not here for some chatting.’’

‘’I figured,’’ grins his companion. ‘’Now, what can I do for you? It can’t be access to the Queen’s castle, you already have that – have you stolen anything yet? Are you in trouble? If you are-‘’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ grumbles Rodan. ‘’I’m here for information.’’

One eyebrow is gracefully arched in question.

The Astral steels himself. This is it – the only lead that may get him somewhere. If this guy can’t help him, no one can. He can’t mess it up now.

‘’What do you know about Souls?’’

Kyousuke knocks on the door of the room next to his own to announce himself. It’s been nearly two days since their return from the Dite Prison, and every moment since has been seemingly filled with meetings. It hasn’t exactly left them a lot of free time and Tsurugi, after trying to get his best friend alone since they came back to the palace, is starting to get frustrated.

Which is why he’s standing outside of Tenma’s room in the non-socially acceptable hours of the morning. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not going to let the brunet brush him off this time.

When the door opens, Tenma is in his pajamas, blinking in surprise to see him standing there. ‘’Kyousuke?’’ he asks, startled. Tsurugi takes the chance to step inside and the brunet is forced to let him through – not that he protests, instead automatically opening the door wider to let him through. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’We need to talk.’’

Tenma closes the door and follows his friend to the sitting area of his quarters. ‘’Sounds ominous,’’ he mutters to himself, stopping in the doorway as Kyousuke turns around with his arms crossed. ‘’What did you want to talk about?’’ he asks, switching to a normal volume. He has a few ideas – they have been at odds with each other the last few days, after all – but he’s not completely sure what the issue is.

‘’Sit.’’

The brunet raises an eyebrow. ‘’I’m not a dog,’’ he says, but takes a seat on the couch nonetheless.

Kyousuke mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, ‘’you might as well be’’, and sits down as well. For a moment, there’s silence between them. The forward is watching his best friend with narrowed orange eyes – to anyone else, it would look like a glare, but Tenma knows him well enough to spot the difference.

‘’Kyousuke?’’ he prompts, when it stays silent.

And- yes, that’s definitely a glare now. The brunet braces himself for the explosion that’s sure to come.

He’s not disappointed.

‘’For god’s sake, Tenma, why can’t you just think before you act?’’

See, that’s it with Tsurugi. He doesn’t shout in anger or stay away from conflict; he prefers a direct and blunt approach.

The brunet grimaces. Even expecting this confrontation after the last few days, he doesn’t have to like it. ‘’You’re angry because I sent you to wait outside the cell,’’ he concludes.

Kyousuke’s glare sharpens. ‘’You didn’t even bother to tell me what happened until the Astral meeting,’’ he reminds him icily. ‘’That was unnecessary.’’

Grey eyes look away, the owner sighing quietly. ‘’I needed time to think.’’ He glances up, hiding a wince at the furious glint in his friend’s orange gaze. ‘’It wasn’t secure.’’

‘’Bullshit,’’ Kyousuke spats instantly. ‘’You could’ve at least let me know you were alright.’’

Oh.

Oh.

Tenma opens his mouth, then closes it again. His conversation with Gouenji – has it really only been a week? It feels much longer – flashes through his mind and he grimaces.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he says quietly, wilting. ‘’I didn’t mean to worry you.’’

Kyousuke, seeing the honesty in his words, backs off a little too. He leans back against the cushions of his seat, running a hand through his messy hair. ‘’I know you didn’t,’’ he grumbles, but then his gaze sharpens again. ‘’You always do this, Tenma. What if you get yourself in trouble? What if you brush us off and we’re not there to help?’’

‘’I won’t.’’ At the disbelieving look he gets, Tenma sighs and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. ‘’I promise, Kyousuke, I’ll be careful. Nothing will happen.’’

‘’How do you know?’’ With everything that’s going on now is left unsaid but not unheard. ‘’You don’t even realize it. Takuto-san worries, and so do I. At some point this is going to go wrong. Our line of work is dangerous, no matter how peaceful the galaxy’s been these last few years.’’

Looking at the brunet now, Kyousuke silently despairs. He’s wearing that reassuring smile he always gets when either of his best friends try to talk some sense into him, that smile that says he’s listening but not listening to what they’re saying. His next words only confirm that. ‘’You don’t need to worry about me, Kyousuke. I’ll be fine! Everything will work out somehow after all, right?’’

But what if it won’t, Tsurugi wants to ask. If he could just grab his friend and shake some sense into him, but-

‘’It won’t, not if you keep putting yourself in danger for nothing!’’

‘’It’s not for nothing!’’ there’s a spark of green in Tenma’s eyes now, still a little startling to see. He’s getting angry, too. ‘’If I can protect someone, if I can help someone… that’s not nothing!’’

You don’t always need to put yourself in the line of fire for that, Kyousuke thinks and clenches his fists, you can at least ask for help – so many people would have your back!

He’s told him that before, though. Time and time again. And it’s not as if Tenma consciously ignores it, but somehow, it seems he just can’t go through with it when it matters.

‘’Why can’t you understand how much it would kill us if something happened to you?’’ the words slip out before he can stop them, but he can’t quite regret them – he’s curious for the answer.

That answer is a mere flicker in Tenma’s eyes, gone so quickly Kyousuke would almost think he imagined it. Almost.

But he knows that look. He’s seen it before – it used to be frequent, years ago, although he hasn’t seen it in a long time – and there’s no way he’d mistake it now.

It hurts, something deep inside of him. ‘’Tenma…’’ he trails off, voice quiet. ‘’Why do you doubt us?’’

That look returns again, and stays this time. That damned insecurity that Tenma always seems to have had, even before he joined Raimon, and Tsurugi has no idea where it comes from. And it must’ve come from somewhere – someone has made his best friend doubt every friendship he’s formed, has made him undermine his own worth time and time again.

At some point, someone hurt him enough that even now, years later, he can’t fully believe that others would love him.

Tsurugi doesn’t know who’s responsible, but if he ever finds out, he’s going to give them a piece of his mind. He’s clenching the fabric of his pants so tightly his knuckles are turning white, but that barely registers in his racing thoughts.

How dare they? How dare they hurt this bright boy so much his self-doubt still manages to get to him, after everything that has happened to prove otherwise?

For now, though, he has to let it go. Tenma isn’t going to talk about this now and he knows it – part of him curses the brunet’s stubbornness issues, but he knows he doesn’t mean it. It’s part of what makes Tenma who he is.

‘’Please,’’ he says instead, ‘’just be careful. Takuto-san and I, we’re both here if you need us. Everyone else, too. You know that.’’

It used to be hard for him to talk about his emotions, but over the years he’s gotten a lot better. How couldn’t it, with friends that he’d trust with his life? Enough has happened that he’s accepted that he loves them, fiercely, and why should he be embarrassed by it? They’re all amazing people. He’s not afraid to let them know that.

With a sigh, he reaches over the low table that separates him and the brunet, and flicks Tenma’s forehead.

‘’Ow!’’

Tsurugi finds himself smiling. ‘’Enough with the frown,’’ he says, and he means it – Tenma’s smile lights up the entire room, and he doesn’t ever want it to disappear. ‘’We’ve got enough to do, and you’re not even dressed yet.’’

With how hectic the last few days have been, and the next few weeks are promising to be, Tenma should really be glad for this moment of peace and quiet.

Instead he’s bored.

There’s an itch beneath his skin, a tingling in his fingertips that won’t let him focus on the book in his hands. It’s disappointing, he was hoping he could finish it before they go home to Earth and let Takuto know what he thought about it, but there is no way he can pay enough attention like this.

With a quiet sigh, the brunet places the bookmark between the pages and abandons the book on the side table. He stands and stretches, and then moves towards the door for some fresh air. On the way out he grabs his Psyche weapon and hooks it to his belt, the weight familiar after carrying it around constantly now.

Out in the hallway, he hesitates for a minute before taking a left and making his way to the Astral wing of the palace. He could explore the large castle, but he’s not in the mood, and while otherwise the impressive library might interest him, right now he doesn’t feel like being surrounded by scholars who stare at him for being human, nevermind the Astral Captain. So, instead, he might as well check up on his Astrals.

Technically they don’t need to have their main base of operations at a government building, but with Lalaya’s support of the Corps, it was only smart to take her up on her offer of opening up part of the castle. It’s more than large enough, anyway, and the Corps’ obvious support of her rule has only strengthened the people’s favor of her.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the double doors with the familiar, four-pointed star on it; as an important guest, his quarters are located in the heart of the castle, just like the Astral wing.

He’s not wearing his uniform but that’s not a problem; the doors are wired to recognize any Astral’s Soul signature and he only has to flare it a little for them to slide open. They close instantly once he’s stepped through and the brunet nods in approval. Security’s still up to date, it seems.

Tenma hasn’t been here in a long time, the last time being five years ago during the first Assembly. Back then, this place was still being renovated, and to see it now… even just walking down the hallway to the large common room shows how much effort has been put into this.

It makes him smile to see how important this has become to his friends.

He can hear voices coming from the common room and his lips twist into a smile at the sound of laughter. When he reaches the arched doorway, he pauses, taking in the scene.

Several Astrals are scattered throughout the room, lounging on comfortable looking couches that are standing in a sunken in part of the floor, accessible by low stairs. Large windows provide natural daylight, sheer white curtains deflecting any curious eyes from the outside.

There’s a large ebony table further back, one which Tenma recognizes; it’s where the Faramians are seated during their monthly Astral meetings, where he’d been seated just yesterday during the emergency meeting. It’s still strange to see it from another angle. On the other side of the room, closest to the windows, are large grey mats for training fights, racks with weapons and targets to the side.

The entire room has a purple and white color scheme, and it would be imposing for how grand it was if it didn’t feel so comfortable.

Tenma’s a little surprised when he suddenly locks eyes with Hilary – he hadn’t actively reached out with his Soul in greeting, after all.

She tilts her chin a little and he takes the silent invitation, walking over to where she’s standing by the in-built bar to get a drink. From the towel around her neck coupled with the sleeveless turtleneck and leggings she’s wearing – the standard Astral training uniform - it’s pretty clear she just came from a practice session.

‘’What’s up?’’ the brunet asks once he’s at the bar.

Hilary’s eyes, or at least the one not covered by an eyepatch, watch him carefully as she offers him a bottle with some kind of green drink, her own already half empty. ‘’It’s safe for Earthlings,’’ she says and Tenma takes her word for it.

Neither speak as they both drink – it tastes a little fruity – and the brunet leans back against the bar as he tries it out. He’s worked with Hilary often enough to know she’ll say what’s on her mind after she’s thought it through. In fact, it’s something he appreciates in her – that, and her natural ability to take control.

As expected, the Faramian Astral speaks up after a short while. ‘’You should train.’’

Tenma turns to look at her curiously. He has nothing against the idea, bored as he is today, but why?

‘’Your Soul’s natural now,’’ Hilary says in response to the silent inquiry, and it’s strange to see the resolute set of her mouth when usually she’s so nonchalant. ‘’I want to see how much of a power boost it gives you.’’

That makes sense. ‘’Alright.’’ The brunet finishes his drink and leaves the bottle on the bar, glancing at the half of the room that’s meant for training. Several Astrals are sparring casually. ‘’Any idea where Kyousuke is?’’

They could both use some time to get rid of their excess energy, and it’s always fun to see who will win between them.

Hilary nods. ‘’He’s outside,’’ she gestures to the windowed wall, where a glass door leads to the palace’s courtyard. It’s open now to let in some of the fresh air. ‘’You go change, I’ll get him. There’s some extra uniforms in the changing rooms.’’

They part ways, the Faramian girl moving to the courtyard while Tenma makes his way towards the training half of the room. There’s two doors there, both leading to changing rooms, and the brunet ducks inside one to find a similar room to what he’d find in a soccer stadium back home – lockers, benches, clean towels and a bathroom with showers to the side.

Like Hilary said, there are extra uniforms stacked next to the towels. Tenma quickly finds one in his size and changes into the black leggings and sleeveless turtleneck, allowing for easy movement and reminiscent of their official uniforms. He hooks his Psyche on his belt – since his order of always carrying their weapons, he never takes it off anymore.

Within minutes he’s stepping outside again, finding Hilary and Kyousuke waiting on the largest training mat, talking. His best friend is already dressed in the training uniform and their eyes meet when the forward turns and smirks, something wild sparking in his eyes.

Instantly, Tenma feels his fingers tingle when his Soul sparks beneath his skin at the clear challenge. He grins in return.

Oh, you’re on.

Already, several Astrals have recognized the signs of the upcoming fight and are gathering at the sidelines to watch. It’s not surprising, Kyousuke and Tenma both being known as absolute powerhouses in the Corps – to see them go head to head is intense, to say the least. Takuto always complains about getting headaches from their surging Souls.

Tenma steps onto the mat, quickly crossing the distance that separates him from Kyousuke and Hilary. ‘’I’ll play referee,’’ the Faramian alien says once he’s there. ‘’Any rule preferences?’’

‘’Tap out,’’ Tsurugi says instantly, his Captain nodding along. ‘’Don’t harm beyond bruising.’’

That’s one they usually don’t implement – there’s no need for it, the times they do more than graze each other are rare since they’re so evenly matched, but it’s logical now. They don’t need any extra injuries during the Assembly.

Their referee nods. ‘’Anything else?’’

The brunet purses his lips, then offers, ‘’no head strikes.’’ The other two both nod and in an unspoken agreement, Hilary moves off the mat. Both Kyousuke and Tenma step away from the middle, falling into defensive poses.

‘’Alright!’’ Hilary calls, voice now a lot louder to be heard clearly. A ripple of excitement goes through the onlookers. ‘’Weapons out on my signal. One. Two… three!’’

In a sudden rush of motion, Tsurugi launches himself forward and grabs his weapon from his belt, blue light flashing as he activates it. His Psyche takes the shape of a long, thin blade of glowing energy, cutting through the air towards Tenma.

Instead of taking out his own conduit, the brunet ducks low and twists, back hitting the floor as he rolls away and fluidly gets to his feet again. Kyousuke twists around to look at him, annoyance in his face – he’s far too familiar with what his best friend is doing and it irritates him.

That’s the point.

‘’Is that all you’ve got, Jedi-san?’’

Tsurugi suddenly moves in close, but the brunet is expecting that and dances out of reach. He doesn’t manage to get out of the way completely though, because the forward is persistent and chases after him. When Tenma ducks low again to avoid a high slash, Kyousuke’s blade suddenly swishes around and the brunet has to jerk away to avoid the strike.

From then on, the previous game of cat and mouse changes as Tsurugi takes the opportunity to attack. He keeps Tenma on his toes with his rain of slashes, the brunet barely avoiding – it’s clear that he’s trying to force the Captain to take out his own weapon.

When Tsurugi suddenly stabs instead of slashes, breaking the previous rhythm, Tenma reacts on instinct. Faster than his mind can keep up with, he swipes up his Psyche conduit and flares his Soul.

It’s an explosion of green.

The energy bursts out of the conduit from both sides, metal plates forming the ends of the staff. Tenma spins with it, sparks flying when green strikes back against blue and the resounding energy blast forces Kyousuke several shaky steps backwards.

Mouth agape, the forward is left staring at his Captain, completely taken aback by the power rippling through Tenma’s Soul – it surrounds him, a faint green glow, and that’s the real testimony to how potent it is.

An aura like that only forms when there’s too much Soul energy, when it doesn’t have anywhere to go. It happened often during the Grand Celesta Galaxy, but that was before the Psyche weapons were created, specifically to channel all that excess energy- but this? It means not even Tenma’s Psyche can channel all of his Soul.

To think a natural Soul is that powerful…

Kyousuke isn’t the only one left speechless, in fact, everyone is left staring. Several Astrals previously outside have gathered in the entranceway and Tenma himself looks utterly befuddled, uncomprehending stare fixated on his upgraded weapon.

Then, slowly, he tightens his grip on his trusted staff and glances up, meeting his best friend’s eyes. After a moment, Tsurugi nods, a determined set to his mouth. As if there’s an invisible signal, both of them shift into defensive stances again, this time with their weapons already out; Kyousuke with his legs wide, knees bend, blade held diagonally in front of him, and Tenma with one foot in front of the other, staff held loosely with both hands.

With a sudden cry, the forward moves, blue blade cutting through the air and coming down faster than the eye can follow, azure embers trailing in its wake. Tenma twists to the side, staff lashing out and both weapons meet in a rain of sparks. From there on out, it’s an intricate dance of movements, Kyousuke lashing out fast and precise like a snake, while the brunet moves lightly on his feet, spinning to gain speed and strength with his strikes. Whereas the sword fighter has the advantage of lightning fast attacks and even quicker retreats, Tenma has the high ground on range, able to use both sides of his weapon to deflect and attack and turning his entire style into a smooth flow, weaving around his opponent like wind blowing through the trees.

They both know the other’s fighting form intimately, having been there when they were both training in their respective weapon, and it makes their reactions to each other almost instinctive. When Tenma reflects a strike, Kyousuke is already swerving away from the answering attack, glowing green staff missing him by a hair. The Captain himself spins instantly, other side of his Psyche rising to intercept the next slash.

And like that, they continue. Neither getting the upper hand, or so it seems.

Because whereas Tsurugi is already at his limit trying to keep up, his Captain only seems to get faster the longer their spar goes on, the wisps of green energy around him steadily increasing in intensity. He’s barely breaking a sweat, while Kyousuke has to strain himself to keep countering.

Time to change tactics.

When he counters Tenma’s next strike, the forward gathers as much of his Soul as he can in such a short moment, his Psyche glowing brightly with the strength of it. Their weapons both rebound from the force and immediately, Kyousuke takes his chance and attacks. He throws his entire Soul into it and this time, the light of it is blinding.

He’s hoping the suddenness of it will surprise Tenma enough to catch him off guard, knowing this is risky – the two of them have always been virtually equal in their Souls, and right now the brunet is most likely stronger – but it’s probably his only chance.

And Tenma is taken aback, grey eyes widening and staff coming up just a split second too late to counter accurately, the angle a bit too awkward to really put all of his strength into it. Had it been a battle of fitness, he would’ve lost right then and there.

As it is, his Soul takes over for what he lacks in physical strength. It blazes, reacts before his mind can even comprehend the situation; green fire erupts from his Psyche and scorches everything in its path.

Kyousuke never stood a chance.

The clash of their Souls flares up so brightly the onlookers have to shield their eyes from it. For several long seconds, the wave of energy that crashes through the room threatens to overwhelm them, and then it disappears as suddenly as it came.

‘’What the fuck, Tenma?’’

The brunet in question is gaping, an aura of bright green surrounding him still. His Psyche crackles with energy, although it’s now resting limply in his grip instead of held at the ready. On the ground in front of him is Kyousuke, pushing himself up from where he’d fallen on the ground, his own weapon reverted back into its conduit form.

‘’I…’’ Tenma seems to be at a loss for words, lifting the hand that is not holding his staff and looking at his unscathed palm, as if that’ll give any answers as to what happened just now.

The downed Astral groans as he moves to get up and immediately the brunet forgets all about his shock and offers his free hand, pulling the forward to his feet a second later. ‘’Are you okay?’’ the Captain asks, anxiously. ‘’I didn’t hurt you, right?’’

At that, Tsurugi pauses for a moment, not helping along Tenma’s worry. But something in his eyes is sharp, thinking, and then the unreadable expression fades into a smirk. ‘’I don’t think you could .’’

‘’What?’’ the brunet blinks.

Kyousuke hooks his Psyche on his belt before he responds, and half-shrugs. ‘’Souls are our instincts, aren’t they? Sure, that just now was a pretty overwhelming lightshow, but it didn’t hurt.’’ He glances at the Astrals watching them and some of them mutter agreements. ‘’You don’t like hurting people, especially not those you care about. It’s not in your nature.’’

‘’That’s…’’ Tenma trails off, not sure how to describe it, and then he huffs a laugh. ‘’I bet Takuto-san will be really interested in this. How different Souls can be on the basic level, that’s what you mean, right?’’

No doubt the strategist will want to figure this out as soon as the Assembly is over and done with – he’s shown an interest in the inner workings of Souls ever since the creation of the Corps. Kyousuke nods, then, and they both fall silent as Hilary suddenly steps up to them, waving her hand lazily. ‘’Don’t think this needs to be said, but this match goes to our Captain,’’ she calls, some good-natured eye rolls following her remarks. Her voice lowers when she speaks next, now beside the two Earthlings. ‘’Well, that was a surprise.’’

Tenma chuckles. ‘’You can say that again. Ozrock warned me, but I hadn’t quite expected that.’’ He gestures to his still shining staff and doesn’t notice the grimaces shared by his two Astrals.

Instead the brunet focuses intently for a few moments. It pays off when the energy of his Psyche retracts, snapping back into its conduit form which he hooks on his belt. It’s still crackling every now and then with energy, and several residual green wisps drift around him.

He notices Hilary glancing at him from the corner of his eye and turns towards her, raising an eyebrow. The girl sighs.

‘’It’s your Soul. It’s… surging.’’

‘’Surging?’’

She nods, lips twisted into a grimace. ‘’It’s impossible to ignore.’’ Her eyes flicker to where Tenma’s Psyche is still sparking, and she bites her lip. It’s weird to see her hesitating, when she’s usually so confident. Then, ‘’I’ve only ever felt that from Ozrock.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Tenma’s eyes try to find Kyousuke’s, but the other teen avoids his gaze.

They fall silent, the sudden awkwardness heavy in the air. After a few moments of hesitation, the brunet musters up a smile. ‘’Guess I should start training, right? There’s clearly some unforeseen consequences from this whole Green type stuff.’’

Hilary mutters an agreement, risking a glance at Tsurugi. She throws her former teammate a glare when she catches his gaze, and Kyousuke sighs.

‘’That’s a good idea,’’ he finally says, trying to ignore the stab of guilt when Tenma’s shoulders sag in relief. He offers the brunet an absent smile when he starts chattering about what training exercises would be best, not that the other notices.

All the while, one thought is at the forefront of the forward’s mind.

He needs to talk to Takuto.

Leaving Faram Obius is a less crowded affair than when they arrived. Five long days after their arrival, six days after leaving Earth in the first place, the Earthern Astral once again find themselves at the Galaxia Express station.

Only Katora and Kazerma are there to see them off, because everyone else is burrowed in meetings and work. Kazerma is actually leaving today as well, having only been on Faram Obius at Princess Katora's requests, and did not mind accompanying the Earthlings to say goodbye.

“It’s really no problem,” he tells Tenma when the Astral Captain turns worried grey eyes on him. “The Express to Sandorius leaves not long after yours, and Princess Katora has agreed to have lunch with me nearby after this until it is time for me to leave. I do not mind getting to say goodbye to you all.”

Tenma smiles, reassured by his words. “You'll see us soon!” he reminds his friend. “Just a few more weeks until the Assembly.”

Kazerma nods and keeps his smile on his face, but his eyes are dark with concern as he glances first at Tenma and then at Tsurugi and Minori at either side of the Captain. Concern that is shared by all of them, but cannot be spoken of here in the open.

“That is true,” the Sandorian mumbles, and Katora - who has been standing next to them all this time - frowns, glancing between them.

Tenma tries to smile at her but knows it falls flat when she only frowns deeper. She does not ask, however, and for that he is grateful. He hates that he has to worry her like this, but they are both people in positions of power, and at least she understands that some things cannot be talked about.

The Princess inclines her head, and if Tenma did not know better he would say he could feel the sadness lapping at her like waves at the shore, but maybe that's just because he knows her so well.

“Tenma is right,” Katora says, startling Kazerma but not the brunet in question, “Soon we will all be reunited again! But for now, it seems that the Express is about to leave.” And indeed, it seems the departure preparations are nearly finished.

As Katora steps forward to say goodbye to Minori, Tenma clasps Kazerma’s arm tightly in greeting, their Souls mingling together with Tsurugi’s in a much more subtle goodbye. “Take care, Captain,” the Sandorian mumbles, and Tenma nods firmly as he tries to show as much reassurance in his Soul as he can.

They separate with one last look, Kyousuke approaching Kazerma for a short, mumbled conversation while Kayora ignores any sense of decorum and embraces the Earthling.

Tenma is not as surprised as he perhaps should be when he hears her whispering to him. “Swear to me you will take care, Tenma.”

She steps back, all traces of her sweet smile gone and replaced by a silent fear, a painful helplessness that does nothing to diminish the courage he knows she’s capable of.

He inclines his head and hopes she can hear the vow in his words when he tells her, “I swear, Princess.”

He will.

He will take care of his Astrals, of his friends, of whoever he can.

‘’Woa.’’

Shindou finds himself silently agreeing with that assessment, because woa. The Galaxia Express is only halfway through Earth’s atmosphere and they can already sense the familiar-yet-not Soul presence.

It’s familiar in the sense that he knows it, has known it intimately for over six years, has interacted with it nearly every day since the moment they met, however unconsciously.

But this waterfall of radiated, concentrated energy that crashes over them all like a tidal wave? It’s the complete opposite of the gentle hum he knows as well as his own Soul signature.

It’s nearly enough to drown out the roaring engine of the Galaxia Express as it docks at Earth’s space station. Shindou exhales slowly as he watches the long vehicle go from max speed to full-stop in only a few minutes, the sound lost in the heavy air draft caused by the slowing space train.

With a smooth hiss, the doors open.

‘’I kinda pity Tsurugi,’’ mutters Matatagi, raising a hand to massage his temple. ‘’I’m going to have a headache for a week.’’

The Vice-Captain really wants to roll his eyes at the dramatics, but with the strain on his Soul, he refrains for now. Instead he forces himself to walk forward when three familiar shapes step out of the Express.

He’d never thought he’d say it, but Kyousuke’s tranquil signature, like a smooth lake with not even a ripple to disturb it, is like a fresh breath of air. ‘’I have no idea what you did while you were in space,’’ Takuto calls out before anyone else can say something, ‘’but Tenma, what the fuck.’’

The brunet at least has the decency to look sheepish as he makes his way down the stairs and steps onto the Earth’s surface for the first time in a week.

‘’In my defense, I did not know this would happen.’’

Shindou glares at him, channeling all his headache-induced annoyance into the look. Still, he pulls the brunet into a quick hug – the overwhelming brightness of his Soul enough to make the game maker wince, and said brightness is suddenly filled with the bitter tang of guilt. ‘’Can’t you control it?’’ he hums, worry creeping up on him - if their Captain needs to relearn to control his Soul so close to the Assembly, with everything that is at stake…

Tenma sighs and steps back, Shindou moving to catch Kyousuke in an embrace before he can escape. ‘’I can, but only for so long,’’ the younger brunet says and suddenly the brightness dials down to more or less the same level it was at before. ‘’Better?’’

‘’Much.’’

Shindou pulls away from Kyousuke, who was grudgingly returning the hug, and raises an eyebrow when the younger’s own Soul signature suddenly swirls in aggravation. What’s that all about?

Putting it out of his mind for now, the game maker moves to greet Minori, allowing Matatagi the time to reunite with their friends. It doesn’t take long after that for them to be ready to leave, and the five of them pile into Shindou’s car before setting off towards their flat. They drop Matatagi off at his own apartment which he shares with some of the other guys from Earth Eleven.

When they eventually reach home, the first thing they see when they enter the living room is the bright decorations.

Takuto hides a smile as the rest of their flatmates jump on the three outer space arrivals with hugs and greetings, pulling them towards the couch so they can start the welcome home party.

Tomorrow, they can worry about the fate of the universe.

Today, they will just act like the teenagers they are.

The ‘welcome home’ party is starting to come to an end, several of their friends saying goodbye for the night, when Takuto manages to pull Kyousuke away from the events without looking suspicious.

They slip outside, onto the balcony, and the light and music from inside are cut off when Tsurugi closes the door behind them. The night is warm and both best friends lean against the railing.

For a few moments, they just sip from their drinks and stay silent. It’s already obvious the peace and quiet won’t last, however, and with a soft sigh Shindou breaks it. ‘’What happened?’’

He’d seen it. How could he not? He’s known the two younger teens for so long, there’s no way he’d miss the tension, however slight, between them – and he easily recognized that it stemmed from Tsurugi’s side.

Now, the forward clenches his drink until his knuckles turn white. It’s the only sign of his frustration.

‘’He’s just so reckless.’’

Takuto exhales slowly. This again, then – an issue he and Kyousuke, and to a lesser extent their other friends (but only because they’re not aware of how much of a problem it really is), have been trying to deal with for years.

It hadn’t been as bad when they were kids; Tenma discarded his own comfort too often, but they hadn’t seen how bad the habit truly was.

(They should’ve, in the matches against Mannouzaka and Tengawara, and Takuto still beats himself up for it – how hadn’t he realized it? Tenma, throwing himself in the line of danger like that, that wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy. )

The pause in their conversation allows Kyousuke to gather his thoughts a little, and he continues more or less calmly. ‘’When we were visiting the Dite Prison, Bitway refused to talk if anyone but Tenma was there,’’ he says, voice low to not be overheard despite there not being anyone around. He’s not looking at Shindou, instead keeping his irate gaze trained on the ground. ‘’Tenma agreed. I couldn’t talk him out of it.’’ He huffs without amusement. ‘’Of course I couldn’t.’’

Takuto closes his eyes for just a moment. He’s gripping the railing tightly, the metal cold beneath his hand. ‘’And then?’’

‘’He was there for, what, an hour? Two? Something like that. At some point his Soul… he was anxious but when we tried to react, he told us off.’’ Kyousuke shakes his head and chews on his lower lip, grimacing.

Neither of them say anything, the younger seemingly stuck on his words and the elder watching him with a piercing gaze. Shindou allows his friend the moment he needs to collect his thoughts in silence, and yet his mind is racing.

Finally, Tsurugi’s head whips up again, and this time there’s a desperate fire burning in his eyes. ‘’Takuto-san,’’ he says, still quiet but with an edge of fear. ‘’Tenma, he’s going to put himself in danger again. And I… fear we won’t be there. I know that someday, we won’t be there.’’ He twists around to lean on the railings, staring out into the darkness. ‘’Someone will hurt him.’’

Shindou turns halfway so he’s facing his friend, although Kyousuke doesn’t look at him. The strategist’s face is controlled, but his breathing gives him away – he inhales slowly, deeply, as if to calm himself.

‘’He trusts Ozrock.’’

At those words, the forward snaps his eyes towards him.

‘’He says he doesn’t,’’ Takuto continues quietly, ‘’but I think he does.’’

Tsurugi swallows. ‘’You think Ozrock will take advantage of it?’’

Shindou’s eyes stray towards the street below, his expression tight. ‘’I don’t know,’’ he answers quietly, after a moment of silence that says more than his words ever could. ‘’He’s… almost helping us, right now. But for what purpose? And for how long?’’ he glances up, dark eyes boring into Tsurugi’s own. ‘’We don’t know who to trust. This might seem black and white, but is it really?’’

Kyousuke searches Takuto’s face, for what, neither of them is sure. His mouth is slightly agape, as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat, and Shindou has never seen him so afraid.

‘’Tenma,’’ he says, instead of mentioning that, ‘’knows it too.’’

He’s trying to say something.

It suddenly hits Tsurugi. Takuto is trying to tell him something – something he, for some reason, doesn’t want to say aloud.

The elder is still watching, eyes narrowing minimally.

‘’He will not blindly trust people,’’ Takuto continues, even more silent. ‘’Not even those he should.’’

Kyousuke inhales sharply as the true meaning of that hits him.

He stares at Takuto, horrified, daring him, asking him to deny the meaning of his own words – but his friend’s darkened gaze stares back rigidly.

‘’There may come a time,’’ he whispers, ‘’where he will fail. He will put himself in the line of fire without anything, or anyone, to fall back on, because he will not dare to reach out to his friends. He will be alone. That is the danger of his insecurities.’’

‘’No!’’

Shindou blinks, some of the tension leaving him.

The younger stares back at him with gritted teeth. ‘’No,’’ he growls again, ‘’we won’t let that happen.’’

The strategist huffs, relaxing now, and a wry smile crosses his lips. ‘’Of course we won’t,’’ he agrees, and a silent look of understanding passes between them.

‘’As if we ever would.’’

Between preparations for the Assembly, new Soul training, soccer practice, university classes, coupled with the added stress of the Corps’ undercover mission, Tenma’s surprised he doesn’t lose his mind. Or, who knows. Maybe he already has.

That’d explain a lot, actually.

He’s at the Celesta Stadium together with Kyousuke and Takuto, the field empty save for the three of them. The rest of the Earth Eleven is set to arrive soon, but for now it’s just them.

‘’So, how did you turn your Soul natural?’’

That’s the question, isn’t it? Tenma tilts his head as he ponders it, despite already having been asked this same thing several times without being able to find a satisfying answer. He’s seated cross-legged on the grass, Shindou and Tsurugi in similar positions as they wait for him to find his words.

‘’I’m not sure,’’ he says at last, lifting his hand and letting green spark around it. ‘’It wasn’t like in a match, when I evolved my Soul or used my Keshin for the first time, yet it kind of… was?’’ the green fades away as he gestures vaguely. ‘’When I knew I wasn’t supposed to be Blue type, I just tried to let it happen. Let my Soul do what felt right, you know what I mean?’’

It’s a bad answer, he knows, but how else can he explain it? He didn’t consciously choose to turn his Soul green, or something. He simply did.

Still, Kyousuke seems to pick something up from it, features twisted into a thoughtful frown.

‘’Maybe try meditating,’’ Tenma adds, hoping that will be a bit more helpful. They’re all familiar with it – years ago, when they all started training to form the Astral Corps, that was one of the most important parts of it, and Tenma thinks it’s the most similar to what he did to awaken his natural type.

His best friend nods, seeing the logic in that, and his eyes glaze over in thought. His Captain leaves him to it, knowing that look all too well – Kyousuke will be occupied for the next bit of time, no doubt.

Instead, the young brunet turns to his elder friend a few feet away. ‘’What about you, Takuto-san?’’

Takuto smiles warmly and shakes his head, gesturing for the younger brunet to give Kyousuke some peace. They get to their feet, wandering over to the bench as Tsurugi’s Soul signature settles, ebbing and swelling like the tide. ‘’I don’t think it would help me much, if I’m honest,’’ the Vice-Captain admits. At Tenma’s confused frown, he laughs softly. ‘’You’ve read the reports Kazerma has been sending, right?’’

Tenma nods. The Sandorian Astral has been investigating Soul types and giving them regular reports on his findings. Unfortunately, the brunet hasn’t really been able to take a good look at them yet with how busy he’s been. He’s not surprised Takuto is invested, though. This seems like something right up his alley.

‘’I’ve been checking them out,’’ Shindou says as they reach the bench, both taking a seat, and Tenma hides a smile when he’s proven correct. ‘’It’s really informative. Did you know that a scale has actually been developed to classify the intensity of Souls? It’s an old system that has been out of practice, but I’m curious as to the results if it were applied to the Corps,’’ he says, voice quickening a bit in his excitement. ‘’It’s not actually relevant how much Soul energy someone has, but rather how intense that energy is. A higher intensity means a stronger Soul, and Souls of similar intensity are actually more attuned to one another, the theory behind it is really quite fascinating-’’

He clears his throat when he notices Tenma’s knowing grin. ‘’Ah, sorry, getting off topic,’’ the strategist says sheepishly. ‘’Anyway, I’m fairly convinced I’m a natural Blue type.’’

‘’Really?’’ the younger brunet asks, interested. ‘’I haven’t really had time to read Kazerma’s reports in detail…’’

At that, Takuto smiles sympathetically, giving his Soul free reign to swirl around them comfortably. He knows how stressed the younger has been, first about the Celesta Assembly and now about the threat hanging over their heads; but now’s not the time to mention that.

Instead, he nods and continues his explanation. ‘’Blue is based on logic, mostly. It’s called the most common type, but it’s not, not really.’’ At Tenma’s curious head tilt, Shindou hums. ‘’Everyone is a mix of the three types, just in different proportions. Bitway said you’re purely Green, correct?’’

Tenma nods.

‘’It’s not truly ‘pure’,’’ the strategist explains, making air quotes around the last word. ‘’It just means your natural Soul signature is more than, I think it was 50 percent, one type. In your case, Green.’’

That makes sense – Tenma had been wondering about that, actually. If Souls are based on survival instinct, can they really be classified in one way? People’s reactions change depending on the situation, after all.

‘’Many Soul users are not considered pure, because the ratio between the different types isn’t as clear cut. It’s just that generally, they have a bit more Blue than Purple or Green, which is why they’re technically Blue Soul users, and why Blue is considered most common.’’

‘’So Blue is the most common,’’ Tenma summarizes, ‘’but pure Blue might be as rare as Purple and Green?’’

Takuto hums a confirmation. ‘’I’m not certain about the ratio in my Soul signature, but I’m quite certain Blue is the most dominant for me. Logic, you know?’’ and he taps the side of his head, grinning. Of course; he’s not the best strategist Tenma knows for no reason.

A wave of calm washes over both of them, catching their attention for a bit. On the field, Kyousuke has moved into the position he always uses when meditating; kneeling with his hands resting on his knees, back straight and eyes closed, the picture of serenity. His Soul flows in time with his breathing, retreating when he inhales and washing over them on every exhale. The soothing hum of energy has both brunets relaxing in turn, letting their own Souls respond and join in the gentle rhythm.

‘’I don’t know for sure, of course, at least not until we find a way to determine a Soul type ratio,’’ Takuto adds after several beats of silence. ‘’And yet, I can’t imagine using my Soul any differently than I already do. It would be like trying to change my own heartbeat.’’

‘’I see…’’ Tenma trails off, and then finds himself nodding. ‘’It would make sense. Blue type suits you.’’

‘’You think so?’’ when the younger brunet hums, Takuto’s lips suddenly twist into a smile.  There is a sharp glint in his dark eyes. ‘’Well then, how about it? If I’m not going to meditate, we might as well get some training in, wouldn’t you agree?’’ his hand falls to his Psyche, the challenge clear. ‘’Besides, I’m curious to see what you can do now.’’

Excitement courses through Tenma. While he and Tsurugi are equally matched, fighting Takuto is a whole different matter. Instead of depending on the strength of his Soul, the strategist prefers to use a more tactical approach; instead of overpowering them with brute force, he outsmarts his opponents. It is a different way of fighting, and one Tenma still has trouble countering sometimes. He grins, a matching expression on his best friend’s face.

‘’Bring it on.’’

(Unfortunately, not even five minutes later their match is rather rudely interrupted when they are suddenly engulfed by Kyousuke’s blazing Purple Soul.)

‘’It was early in King Acrous’ reign.’’

‘’Lalaya’s father?’’ Kyousuke repeats, a frown crossing his face at the mention of the spirit who’d followed him around years ago.

Rodan, from the secure basement he and the other undercover Astrals have taken as their hideout for the time being, nods. ‘’Yeah, him,’’ he answers, throwing a look at the screen that shows Hilary and his other fellow Faramians. ‘’The reason we couldn’t find anything about it in the Archives was because the Queen’s grandfather, King Ireid, gave the other to purge the libraries from anything to do with Souls.’’

‘’King Ireid?!’’ repeats Hilary, her voice loudest amongst the shocked exclamations from her teammates.

Kyousuke, too, looks alarmed, having learnt much about Lalaya’s court and history when he spent time with her. ‘’You mean the King himself was in on this?’’

It’s Ryugel who nods, grimly. ‘’Seems like it – he and his court were the ones responsible for the disappearance of Purple and Green types, nearly one hundred and fifty years ago.’’ He sighs and runs a hand through his dirty hair, part of his disguise. ‘’It was after Zucrun, Ozrock’s planet, was destroyed that the King started investigating Soul types more. Nearly all Faramians are Blue, you see, and although Green and Purple types were around, it was quite rare back then to find one on planet.’’

‘’And Ireid was afraid of that,’’ mutters Hilary, a frown pulling at her features.

Everyone is aware enough of Faram Obius’ history to know what exactly that would’ve entitled.

It’s Minaho who mutters the dreaded words. ‘’Ireid started hunting Purple and Green. Persecuting them.’’

The undercover Astrals’ grim silence is enough of an answer.

‘’Fuck,’’ mutters Kyousuke, leaning back in his chair and running a hand down his face. ‘’Fuck, if Lalaya hears about this…’’

They all wince. The girl may be growing up to be a great Queen, but to know her ancestors’ sins run even deeper than she thought won’t be easy on her.

Especially the Faramians seem pained, their silence heavier than anyone else’s. It’s no surprise then that Aberga is the one to speak up next. ‘’What now, then?’’ he directs his question to the undercover Astrals, who seem relieved by the change in topic. ‘’King Ireid got rid of Purple and Green types, what about the current situation? He died years ago, so who is left to continue his legacy?’’

It’s Powai, surprisingly, who answers. ‘’His court,’’ she mutters, shivering, and hugs herself. ‘’They’re scary…’’

‘’What Powai means,’’ frowns Rodan, tugging his hood a little further over his head to hide his expression, ‘’is that the old elite court kept continuing his legacy. When King Acrous found out, shortly into his reign, he dismissed the group and thought that was the end of it.’’

Evidently not.

‘’Their roots went deeper than Acrous could’ve ever imagined,’’ continues the alien. ‘’Although the rest of the court may not have sided with them, several were easily threatened and forced into servitude. Although it has been decades and these roots are small in number, they are strong. But not only that – the dismissed elite continued their work from other places. It’s as Ozrock said,’’ he mutters, grimacing at having to admit that. ‘’No matter how many, there are traitors, and it won’t be easy to get rid of them. All this time, they have been continuing their work.’’ He nods towards Powai. ‘’You know more about that, right?’’

‘’Powai does!’’ The Sazanaarian takes the cue and reaches for her stello watch. She taps on the screen thrice, a hologram keyboard lighting up in response. The other Astrals stay silent as she types away for a few moments more, and then their own watches all give identical chimes as a new message come in.

Small, glowing holograms pop up everywhere as they open the document Powai sent them. ‘’This is what they use to get rid of the Soul users,’’ she says solemnly, her usual cheer long forgotten.

The picture that is shown to them all is familiar to most of them.

Reminiscent of the metal cuffs that chain Ozrock in his prison even now, the wristlets a darker grey, nearly black instead of the lighter ones the Zucrun alien wears.

Frowns all around are the response. ‘’Are those Soul suppressors?’’ Aberga asks, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the picture.

Powai’s grimace is barely visible in the shadows that hide her face. ‘’No,’’ she tells them. ‘’They work the same, sort of. Suppressors block someone’s energy paths so they cannot reach their Soul. These things do the same, but beyond that, they suck that energy out of the body until there’s nothing left. They’re like leeches.’’

Stunned silence, for just a second.

Then all meeting rooms erupt and the video connection floods with sound, everyone trying to speak first and creating a cacophony of voices. It takes Barga banging on the table from the Faramian meeting room to get them to calm down some.

When the noise has died down enough for them to hear each other again, it’s Shindou who manages to gather the attention. ‘’Silence,’’ he orders sharply and the last voices die down at the order of the Corps’ Vice-Captain. ‘’Soul energy equals life energy, as we all know,’’ he states, focusing on the undercover Astrals again. ‘’Which means that these can kill Soul users?’’

‘’Anyone, really,’’ Rodan corrects grimly, evidently having discussed this with the others beforehand. ‘’Everyone has life energy, we just have a lot more than the average. But yes, that’s the idea. It’s an agonizing death and a quick one, in most cases. It ranges from mere hours up to a few days, depending on how strong the Soul in question is. They’re known as black shackles.’’

It’s Ryugel who quietly picks up from where the shorter alien left off. He’s uncharacteristically grim as well. ‘’They were created on Ireid’s order,’’ says the forward, his voice steely. ‘’Acrous got rid of all of them, or so it seemed. Everyone truly thought they were destroyed, at least, until six years ago.’’

‘’The Grand Celesta Galaxy?’’ Manabe asks, his glasses reflecting the light when he pushes them up.

The white-haired alien inclines his head. ‘’After, to be more precise, when Ozrock was convicted.’’

‘’The Council wanted the best security,’’ Powai adds, her fists clenched tightly.

‘’My sources say that they tried to get Ozrock to wear these,’’ it’s Rodan who mutters the dark words. ‘’’Best quality’, and all. If Queen Lalaya hadn’t insisted on personally being in charge of his prison security and instead let the Council deal with it, as was originally planned, he’d be dead.’’

Tenma’s blood runs cold.

He balls his fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard they’re leaving crescent indents behind.

Those absolute monsters.

It’s only when a hand is placed on his shoulder that he’s pulled from his anger, and he glances up, startled, only to meet a familiar brown gaze. ‘’Calm down,’’ his Vice-Captain tells him, a pulsing wave Soul Blue washing over him.

It’s warm and familiar, and it soothes the red haze that settled over his mind. Tenma breathes in slowly, lets the tension was away, and slowly relaxes his posture. It’s when he blinks and sees green light flickering on the table in front of him that he realizes his eyes must be spitting fire.

He grimaces.

‘’Thanks,’’ he mutters to Shindou.

The game maker smiles thinly and releases him, settling back into his chair. The younger brunet focuses on the rest of the Corps again, trying and most likely failing at a reassuring smile. ‘’I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,’’ he tells them.

‘’It’s your instinct.’’

Tenma raise an eyebrow at the words. ‘’Excuse me?’’

Ryugel leans back in his chair and smirks. ‘’While shorty over here,’’ he gestures to Rodan, who glares, ‘’dived into the history books, Gandales and I figured out more about Soul types, as you probably noticed’’ he tells them. ‘’Turns out, the ‘bond’ thing Ozrock talked about is something that’s naturally stronger for Green types. It’s pretty hard, apparently, for other types to resist that. And it seems to describe you and Ozrock perfectly.’’ Then he nods towards the two humans sitting on either side of the Corps’ Captain. ‘’Not to mention, your two bodyguards.’’

Kyousuke glares, clearly not appreciating being called a bodyguard, and Shindou sends a soothing pulse through his Soul. The younger teens settles down marginally, but still spats through gritted teeth, ‘’what the fuck does that mean.’’

‘’It means,’’ Ryugel’s smirk grows, ‘’that the three of you seem to be the best example we have of balance. The types have a habit of drawing together; there’s harmony that way. Blue is the rationality, Purple is the vigor, Green is the emotion. These bonds we Soul users form, they exist, but they grow stronger through effort and time. And the three of you seem to have quite a strong one.’’

Well.

Tenma glances at his two best friends, letting those words settle into his mind.

Truly, it doesn’t surprise him much when he thinks about it; the wordless communication, the way he’d trust them with everything. He’s not sure when exactly they came to this point, but he knows with absolute certainty that the way their energy flows together is already more natural than breathing.

He locks eyes, first with Takuto, then with Kyousuke, and offers them both a hesitant smile. In response, the former sighs and reaches out to ruffle his hair with a soft look, his aura comfortingly washing around the three of them, while the latter merely rolls his eyes but doesn’t refuse the contact between their Souls.

Tenma relaxes and allows his smile to grow.

He can’t say he minds that idea.

Focusing back on the rest of the Corps, he nearly snorts in amusement to see their warm expressions. Bunch of softies, all of them.

‘’So, basically,’’ he pulls the attention back to the topic at hand, ‘’I have a bond with Ozrock too?’’

‘’Yup,’’ Ryugel grins. ‘’Everyone in the Corps probably has bonds with each other, and somehow you did that with Ozrock as well, probably ‘cause you’re Green. It’s by far the weakest link you’ll have with anyone because it’s so neglected, but it’s there – and the level of understanding may be heightened because the both of you have shockingly intense Souls.’’

Although no one doubts the notion, having long accepted that Ozrock is a definite part of this despite the clear dislike of that thought, there are frowns all around.

‘’So what does that mean for Matsukaze?’’ Matatagi asks, his arms crossed and a frustrated tilt to his lips.

Ryugel shrugs. ‘’Not much, I guess. Ozrock’s still locked up tight,’’ he answers, seemingly not worried. ‘’If he ever came out, he’d probably be one of the few fully capable of sensing Captain, though.’’

At that, said Captain frowns. ‘’What do you mean?’’

The white-haired Faramian sighs in annoyance and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. ‘’You gotta get it through your head, human,’’ he says, the otherwise insulting term sounding almost teasing, ‘’you’re powerful. You were, already, but your Soul levels just keep growing.’’

‘’I’m not that strong.’’

It’s Hilary who throws her head back and laughs, the Faramians around her smirking. Even Powai is giggling, and Kazerma is shaking his head with a small amused smile.

‘’Trust me, you are,’’ hums Aberga.

‘’Can confirm,’’ mutters Matatagi. ‘’Face it, Matsukaze. You give everyone, except those two,’’ he gestures to Kyousuke and Takuto, ‘’a headache when you walk into the room.’’

The brunet rolls his eyes and huffs. ‘’Alright, moving on,’’ he weaves his fingers together, his hands resting on the meeting table. ‘’What else have you guys found?’’

‘’I’ve got a list of suspects,’’ Rodan starts, a smirk pulling at his lips. ‘’I’ve begun investigating them, and Powai, Gandales and Ryugel have already offered to help. And beyond that…’’

His smirk turns into a wild grin.

‘’I think I’ve got a plan.’’

Roglos Gordon, the highest respected elder of the eastern tribe of Gurdon, Councilman of the Galaxia Union and father of Astral Aberga Gordon, narrows his gaze as he watches his fellow Councilor give a speech about the upcoming Assembly. They are gathered in the conference room of their home world, the representatives of the other Union planets shown as holograms. It is, after all, only during the Assembly itself that they all meet face to face.

The Gurdonis in question is of the western tribe, one that has close ties with his own and holds quite some influence too. His family, the Dengar clan, has had an elite status for nearly two centuries now, its prestige reaching far on the fire planet.

And, according to Aberga, the man is a traitor of the worst kind – and despite their former disputes, Roglos is inclined to believe his son, especially since his claims are backed by the Astral Corps.

The elderly owl-like alien listens politely as Dengar continues, not allowing any of his thoughts to show on his face.

It is almost time, now.

It takes several more minutes before his fellow Gurdonis finishes, but eventually he does. He bows to the Council and thanks them all for their attention, before taking a seat again. The meeting has been going on for several hours already; it is nearing the end, but there is one last matter left to be addressed.

Or, rather, one last matter that wishes to address them.

Roglos can see several people getting ready to end the meeting and he hides a smile when Queen Lalaya stands, her hologram smoothly following the movement she must be making in real life. It immediately catches the majority’s attention – the young Queen has become a respected member among the Union politicians, and anything she finds worth mentioning should be listened to.

But this time, it won’t be about the Assembly, as Roglos – and a small group of trusted individuals – knows very well.

‘’Respected Councilors,’’ Lalaya starts, the translation device doing its job smoothly, ‘’I apologize for taking up more of your time; however, before this meeting began, we received a request from the Astral Corps for a bit of our time.’’

That certainly gets their attention.

To keep the Galaxia Council and the Astral Corps as two separate and independent entities, Astrals do not usually sit in on any of the Council’s meetings. Instead, if there is a matter that needs input from both sides, they can either request or be requested to attend a meeting.

‘’The Corps? What is of such importance that they’d request this, Your Majesty?’’ asks a Sazanaari senate member curiously.

Lalaya lightly entangles her hands in front of her. Despite her young age, she demands every drop of attention. ‘’I do not know the full story, but I have been informed that it is of grave importance,’’ she says, giving an apologetic smile. ‘’Are there any objections to their presence here?’’

It is a question of politeness, nothing more. They can, technically, refuse, to avoid the Corps joining too many meetings; but this is the first time the Astrals have made use of this particular clause of the Galaxia-Astral treaty, and the Council has no leg to stand on if they wish to deny this now.

It stays silent, as expected. A bit more surprising is that it is Dengar who breaks the quiet. ‘’If no one objects, then please, let us welcome the Astral representative to our halls,’’ he says, inclining his head. Roglos forces his beak not to curl in distaste at the traitor’s words.

The Faramian Queen smiles at the western tribe member and Roglos has to hand it to her – if he didn’t know she holds just as much anger as he does himself, he wouldn’t suspect a thing. ‘’Thank you, Lord Dengar,’’ she says, and then gestures with a gloved hand towards where the middle of every conference room must be. ‘’I will now give the word to Captain Matsukaze.’’

For a second, there’s a soft hum, and then a similar hologram flickers into existence in the center of the space. It is the young Astral Captain, dressed immaculately in his uniform. ‘’Good afternoon, Councilors.’’ He presses a fist to his heart, the other arm twisting to rest on his lower back, and crosses one leg behind the other. Then he bows, all grace and elegance, before straightening again.

Roglos doesn’t miss the cylinder-shaped conduit of the brunet’s Psyche weapon that is strapped to his belt. Neither does he miss the surprise palpable in the air, both in the Gurdonis conference room and in the off-planet ones, at seeing not just an Astral representative, but the Captain himself.

‘’Lord Captain,’’ greets Lalaya, returning the salute.

The rest of the Council rises, as well, and follows the Queen’s example, as is protocol.

Tenma waits until they’re all seated again before he speaks, voice clear and head held high. ‘’Thank you for granting our request to let me speak during this meeting,’’ he starts off politely. ‘’I will not waste time on small talk. A situation has arisen that is, to put it simply, worrisome. My agents have stumbled across a potential threat to the galaxy,’’ he says, no hesitation in his posture whatsoever. ‘’A terrorist group, if you will.’’

‘’A terrorist group, Lord Captain?’’ repeats a Sandorian Federation representative, frowning deeply. ‘’I would ask you to elaborate.’’

The brunet inclines his head. ‘’Of course,’’ he agrees easily enough, and the look in his eyes is one that would leave Roglos shivering if he didn’t know the reason for it. As it is, he merely shares in the human’s iciness. ‘’There is much investigation that I could speak of, but I will refrain. Instead I shall keep this short.’’ His grey gaze narrows dangerously. ‘’There is an elite group in the Faramdite solar system that is persecuting Soul users.’’

A sea of worried, shocked mutters rises from the Councilors, whether it is because of the ‘elite group’ part, the naming of that specific solar system, or the clear threat that the brunet speaks of.

Roglos, watching Dengar as he is, sees his fellow elder tense, something dark crossing his face for just a moment. If he hadn’t been specifically looking for a reaction, he would’ve missed it.

Tenma barely gives them a few seconds to process the news.

‘’They have threatened those under the Astral Corps’ protection and are, as of this moment, considered an official threat to the Celesta Assembly.’’

His lips twitch upwards into a smile.

It isn’t a nice one.

‘’Evidence has been found that indicates the Galaxia Council itself has been compromised.’’

Exclamations from all around, demands for explanation, questions, shocked ramblings all strung together create a cacophony of sounds that is barely able to be comprehended, and yet all the Astral Captain does is stand there. His back is straight, his head held high, hands held behind his back – coupled with the dark uniform, the light glinting of the silver highlights, he is a force to be reckoned with.

He waits for a few more moments and then continues. Immediately, as if a silent order has been given, everyone quietens.

‘’Councilors,’’ he speaks, even and steady, ‘’I share your concern for this situation. This is the first graphic threat to our hard-won peace we’ve encountered and with the approaching Assembly, it is especially distressing. Therefore, the Astral Corps requests full rights for this investigation.’’

This time, the meeting falls silent instead, a silence that is through and through shock. Never before has the Astral Corps taken such measures.

Tenma pushes on calmly. ‘’I am aware that this is unsettling and I speak for my Astrals when I say that we wish this course of action was not necessary. However, if there truly is a part of the Council that is in any way involved with this group, it is essential that we limit any chance of sabotage in this investigation. This is a precaution to avoid that exact situation.’’

He falls silent now, letting his words settle in their minds, and Roglos has to hand it to him; despite his young age, he is composed, reassuring, his words doing much to stem the growing concern found amongst the Councilors.

‘’You wish to invoke the Right of Jurisdiction?’’ a Sazanaarian Senator clarifies, the tone more considering than accusatory.

And it is a tone shared by multiple Councilors, Roglos notices to his growing relief. When his son notified him of these developments, of the Corps’ plan to take this route, he’d worried that the Council would protest.

It would seem that the Corps has more support here than many believed them to have.

Tenma nods, even as he says, ‘’Only for a limited duration. My Astrals have discussed it and it seems to be the best course of action to take at this moment. The Right of Jurisdiction will allow us to investigate without a compromised Councilor countering our actions, if there are indeed any.’’

This is a gamble.

Roglos knows it, Lalaya knows it. If the Captain succeeds here, it will make it much easier for the Astral Corps to do their jobs, yet at the same time it alerts their enemies to the newfound knowledge of their existence. If the Council denies his request now…

‘’Is this truly necessary?’’ a Ratoni representative asks tentatively. ‘’Is the situation dire enough to be taking these measures?’’

The questions are not an attack; they are spoken in concern, that is obvious, but unfortunately it is the opening needed to undermine the Astral Corps further and Roglos finds himself biting back his frustration when, once more, his fellow Gurdonis opens his cursed beak. ‘’I must agree with that, Lord Captain,’’ Dengar speaks, the tension of his posture showing his displeasure even if his voice is steady. ‘’This largely undermines the Council’s authority.’’

Tenma doesn’t seem impressed in the slightest. ‘’My Lord, the Council has no authority over security matters like these in the first place,’’ he says, tilting his head, a frown contorting his features in a show of confusion that Roglos suspects to be faked. ‘’That is the Corps’ domain, and I would ask you all to have faith in us, like we have faith in the Council to fulfill their duties when it comes to the trade and communication aspects of the Union.’’

The Captain’s words ring loud and clear, and many Councilors are left frowning; what he says is true, after all. The Astral Corps was quite literally created to ensure the safety of the Union; by pointing out this obvious fact instead of rising to the bait, it puts Dengar in a bad light. He should not have implied the Council to be more powerful than they truly are.

And while it succeeds in leaving the protestor gaping, now that someone has spoken out, it seems others are more willing to follow that example.

Those others, unsurprisingly, being suspects as well.

A Faramian lady rises to her feet. ‘’Now see here, human-‘’

‘’Lady Samara,’’ Queen Lalaya doesn’t even glance in the direction of the noblewoman, her voice leaving no room for argument, ‘’Captain Matsukaze has followed every protocol so far, and his reasoning seems more than fair. Do you disagree?’’

The noblewoman is clearly startled by the words her own monarch has spoken. ‘’Of course not, Your Majesty, I simply-‘’

‘’What is more,’’ continues Lalaya, her tone suddenly filling with ice, ‘’is that it seemed to me as if you were trying to use the Lord Captain’s species as an insult.’’ Finally, her hard gaze switches to bore holes into the woman. ‘’Are you disrespecting our honored allies?’’

‘’My Queen, I would never-!’’

‘’Good. Then do not let it happen again.’’

Samara grits her teeth but finally inclines her head, shooting icy daggers at Tenma. ‘’Yes, my Queen.’’

The Astral Captain himself has kept his expression and posture carefully blank while the debacle was going on, but now he smiles politely, a slight tilt of his lips that is filled with a frigid politeness. He allows the expression to soften, then, and so does his voice as he says, ‘’Our aims are the same, Councilors. To ensure the peace in our universe, and that begins with the protection of the Celesta Assembly. We request the Right of Jurisdiction only to ensure we can fulfill our duty during the Assembly.’’

Roglos recognizes the influence of Shindou Takuto in this strategy; he has long since respected the Vice-Captain and even had the pleasure of engaging his sharp mind in battles of wits and tactics a handful of times.

Whatever the exact master plan might be here, he cannot predict. He does not need to, however, to assist.

And so he speaks, steadily and knowing his words will be heard, ‘’Lord Captain, are we to assume your actions are tied to the schedule of the Celesta Assembly?’’

The young man has hinted at it, although not stated it outright, and Roglos understands why. That would be too transparent, too noticeable, and it is clear that the intention was for the Council itself to clarify.

When the Captain inclines his head, Roglos suspects it is in part to cover up his pleased look. ‘’You would be correct, Lord Gordon,’’ he agrees swiftly. ‘’During the Celesta Assembly, many planets will be left vulnerable.’’

That sends a ripple of unease through the ranks, the image painted by those words chilling and grim; their homes, their planets, left undefended while they are galaxies away.

‘’Furthermore,’’ Tenma continues, merciless, ‘’many influential figures will be gathered in one location. Who is to say they will not be targeted then? Who is to say the Astral Corps, consisting of our universe’s strongest Soul users, will not be attacked? The Assembly is at risk, my lords and ladies, and it is the duty of my Corps to ensure the safety of everyone involved.’’ His voice loses its sharp edge then, his words softening as he says, ‘’I implore you to let us do so. Until the end of the Celesta Assembly, specifically until the delegations have safely returned to their own planets, give my agents the ability to do what must be done, when it must be done.’’

And just like that, Roglos can see it happening, the consideration of those around him. The Captain has managed to sway many Councilors, he can see it clear as day, and he is not the only one.

Queen Lalaya, after the silence has stretched on for several long moments, speaks, her task known to her before this meeting. She may not have known what Matsukaze Tenma came to request, but she is on his side nonetheless. ‘’Lord Captain, do you have anything to add?’’

‘’No, Your Majesty.’’

The young royal inclines her head, having expected that. ‘’If no questions are left among the Council, I suggest we put this to a vote.’’

Slowly, Councilors begin to nod, some mumbling amongst one another, some keeping to their own thoughts. Before every vote, a brief chance to discuss and decide is granted; Roglos is one of those who keeps his silence on this matter, although he is aware of the thoughtful glances some of the other Gurdonis direct at him. As the highest respected elder of the eastern tribe, at least some of them will be swayed by his vote.

Eventually, however, the Council begins to settle down, and the Queen of Faram Obius once more speaks, as her position allows her to. ‘’Then, is everyone prepared to vote?’’ No refusal comes, and so she says, ‘’We vote to grant the Astral Corps the Right of Jurisdiction until all delegations have returned home from the Celesta Assembly. All those in favor of this motion?’’

One by one, hands rise.

Roglos does not hesitate to calmly raise his own wing, satisfied to see that many of his own tribe are already mimicking the motion without delay. A decent amount of elders of the western tribe do as well, he is pleased to note.

And not only the Gurdonis are in favor; Queen Lalaya votes yes, and so do several of her personal advisors, mostly those newly established. Nearly the entirety of Ratoniik does as well. Sandorius and Sazanaara are more divided, although that is to be expected; Sandorius’ Federation is a representative of multiple self-governing areas and most often the least united planet, whereas Sazanaari Senators are always unpredictable.

Those are the planets of most interest, as it has been made clear that the threat is located in the Faramdite solar system. Few other planets are likely to be affected, and mistrust towards Faramdite - or rather, the planet Faram Obius, is still evident even now.

For several long moments, they hold their vote, until the results appear before all.

‘’In total, 82% of the Council votes in favor of this motion,’’ Lalaya announces, although it is not necessary; they all see the same hologram in each of their meeting rooms. The Queen addresses the Astral Captain next. ‘’This motion has gone through, Lord Captain. You have the Right of Jurisdiction over the Galaxia Council.’’

The human presses a hand to his heart and bows. ‘’My thanks, Councilors,’’ he says. ‘’And my apologies in advance, for any official procedures that may be restricted. Right now, our top priority is the security of the Celesta Assembly. To that end, protection of the Assembly will be increased. The details of that will be shared at the earliest opportunity. For the time being, Vice-Captain Shindou will be monitoring the situation with the ESF.’’

The brunet inclines his head towards them, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face that has many of Roglos’ fellow Gurdonis easing a little. ‘’My gratitude for your compliance. For now, I must excuse myself, as there is much work to do. Now then,’’ he bows again, ‘’goodbye, Councilors. I will see you all at the Assembly.’’

And with that, the hologram shuts off.

‘’That was fucking savage.’’

Tenma snorts dryly. ‘’Thank you, Tetsu, for that eloquent addition.’’

Tetsukado shrugs. ‘’Just sayin’ it as it is.’’

Some amused smiles are shared among the other Earthern Astrals, but mostly they are focused. The severity of the situation is not lost on anyone.

Now that the Astral Corps has invoked the Right of Jurisdiction, supported by a majority of the Council, they can bypass the regular measures that have been agreed upon in the Galaxia-Astral treaty. They don’t quite have full power in this matter, but it makes it damn hard for anyone to interfere with their investigation - or sabotage it.

‘’Alright, so we’re going to have to give Prime Minister Zaizen an update on security,’’ hums Minori, typing something on her laptop. ‘’Shindou, could you-?’’

‘’On it,’’ hums the game maker, not looking up from the hologram he has pulled up with his stello watch. ‘’It seems that if we put every Blue type on ‘visible’ security, and have them participate in the opening ceremony, there’ll be enough from every planet,’’ he tells them, the light reflecting on his face. ‘’That way, Green and Purple types will stay hidden.’’

‘’Sounds good,’’ Tenma tells his best friend, reaching out to brush Takuto’s Soul just slightly so as not to distract him. The almost unconscious relaxation of the elder’s shoulders shows him it worked, and he smiles softly.

Truly, Rodan’s plan was simple.

‘’We need to find out who is truly part of the old regime,’’ is what he’d said during their last meeting call. ‘’Taking unnecessary risks right now is stupid. We need time to investigate, but everything will be compromised if our Souls are shown during the Assembly opening. What’s more, we can’t face opposition in such a delicate situation.’’

It had been simple to figure it out then.

Revealing to the elite that they suspected there were enemies amongst the Council was a gamble, but a necessary one. They cannot afford to have anyone know that the Astral Corps has discovered the truth about Soul types.

At least now, the old regime can’t oppose them in the investigation without openly putting themselves into bad positions.

Besides, as Minaho had pointed out, they will likely underestimate them – the investigation is already well underway, so even if they try to cover their tracks in response to this meeting, it’ll only work in the Corps’ advantage.

Hilary, Kazerma, Aberga and Van – replacing Powai, since she’s still undercover – have started the legal investigation on their respective planets, putting every suspect under surveillance, unknowingly of course. Once they’ve got a bit more concrete evidence, they can take direct action, but for now, they’re playing the waiting game.

Rodan promised the undercover Astrals wou’d get in contact with them again in two days’ time.

Things have been set in motion now.

There is no turning back anymore.

Not good not good not good.

Ryugel grits his teeth as he ducks into an alley, sprinting as fast as his feet can carry him and twisting around another corner. The footsteps behind him keep up and he spats a curse under his breath- they’ve been chasing him for minutes now and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

He had been investigating one of the lesser suspects and he hadn’t expected the amount of resistance he came across.

Clearly, this particular Councilor has something to hide.

And he’s going to find out what. As soon as he gets out of this mess, at least.

Gandales, Rodan and Powai are all out of reach and even though he could send out a distress signal with his stello watch, the risk of compromising their positions while they are investigating suspects is too big. He’s going to have to figure this out on his own.

He can’t outrun them, that much is clear.

So when he turns another corner, he takes a quick look at the empty alley and then twists on his heel, slowing to a stop. He lowers himself in a ready stance.

When his chasers appear at the edge of the passageway, they pause in surprise at seeing him there. A glance over his shoulder tells Ryugel a few of them have circled around and are now cutting off the other end of the alley as well. Their guns are all trained on him.

His eyes narrow.

Now he has an excuse to go all out.

‘’Stand down and we won’t have to hurt you… much,’’ calls who seems to be the leader of the group.

Ryugel’s lips twitch upwards into a smirk. If they’d been close enough, they would’ve been able to see the blue sparks in his eyes.

‘’I’ll pass, thanks.’’

He throws himself out of the way of the first blaster shot, ducking down to dodge the next rain of attacks. As he does so, he stretches out one leg to keep his balance and throws out an arm towards the first attackers.

Blue flashes.

They’re pushed back, hitting the wall behind them and crumbling to the floor. Ryugel doesn’t hesitate to throw himself into a half-roll, half-slide to dodge the next blaster shots.

He hears them scream something about Souls and he’d smirk if he wasn’t busy dodging. Using his momentum, he pushes himself to his feet and sprints towards the first chasers, who are slowly starting to get up. As he reaches the end of the alley, he jumps on an abandoned crate, boosting himself with his Soul as he jumps once more, and uses one of them as a launching pad.

He kicks himself off the wall and lands in a roll, immediately getting to his feet and continuing his run now that he has escaped the passageway. He ducks into the next alley and his eyes flit around, searching for escape as he hears the footsteps from behind him again.

There.

An open window, on what seems to be the second floor. Not easy to reach, but doable.

He throws himself at the opposite wall, blue flashing as he jumps and kicks off on the wall, turning his movement around. It’s easy enough to catch the windowsill and hoist himself into the room in one smooth move, landing inside in a crouch.

For a second, he hesitates, hand hovering over the conduit of his Psyche where it’s concealed in the folds of his ragged tunic.

It would certainly give him an advantage – there is no weapon capable of matching the Astral Corps’ legendary Psyches, the top-notch devices exclusively made for the Corps’ use and personalized for every Astral.

And that, he admits with gritted teeth, would be his downfall. The only ones in the universe with access to Psyches are Astrals – using his weapon now, no matter how much it would help, would also give away everything they’ve been trying to hide until now. And so he lowers his hand again, instead straining his ears.

Not a moment too soon, either. Footsteps race past from the alley and he stays perfectly still.

As they fade, Ryugel finally allows his smirk to form and straightens, getting to his feet. Despite having successfully escaped for now, he can’t stay here – they’ll figure out they’re not chasing him anymore soon enough, and he’s gotta get as far away as possible while he has the chance.

Making his way through the rundown building and hopefully towards an exit, he sighs.

Let’s hope the other three are having more luck with this.

With three weeks until the Assembly, one until the Sazanaari are set to arrive at Earth, Tenma isn’t quite sure how he manages to keep up with the Corps’ investigation, the ESF meetings, the Assembly preparations, the odd lecture he still manages to attend, and Earth Eleven’s training.

Thank god for Takuto and Kyousuke.

He truly wouldn’t know what to do without them.

Despite it having been only two weeks since he returned from the Faramdite solar system, the change in their Souls only becomes more evident. Beyond the sudden increase of power, the silent communication keeps growing stronger as well.

Although at first it was hard to make sense of the mess of emotions and indications, now it’s like second nature to them. Tenma has an easier time sensing his two friends – Manabe and Minaho hypothesize that it’s because the brunet’s Soul is still stronger, as the regular checkups they’ve started are showing.

Last thing they heard from the undercover Astrals is that about a dozen suspected Councilors have been cleared, while a smaller number has been proven to be part of the old regime. Meanwhile, Hilary and the others have been going through legal means of investigation, which takes longer but still managed to help them detect two other traitors.

At the rate this is going, they will be able to prove their guilt during the Assembly – the Right of Jurisdiction may give them the opportunity to investigate as they please, they still need to follow intergalactic law in accusing people.

That doesn’t mean it’s going without trouble, though.

Every action they take is carefully calculated. One wrong move, and it’ll all be over. Their situation is constantly monitored, the Faramians – having by far the most Astrals – having set up a main security base in the middle of the Faramdite solar system, from where every stello watch is being observed nonstop. It’s the fort for their undercover operations.

And Tenma, unfortunately, is barely there for that part.

No, his job is to keep the Galaxia Council out of the way. He’s had countless meetings with them now, and not even of his own volition. Instead, he’s being summoned, and the Galaxia-Astral treaty states that he cannot ignore it.

It’s a clear attempt at gathering information into the Astral Corps’ current actions. Fortunately, with the Right of Jurisdiction invoked, any information regarding their current activities is classified, and while he’s stuck in those boring, mindless meetings for hours, at least he can stay silent on any matter that could compromise his Corps.

In fact, he’s attending such a meeting right now.

The current topic is the arrival of the Sazanaari and the Xui delegates, which gives Tenma a break from fending off prying questions, for which he is grateful. He can only keep up the decorum and formalities for so long if the only thing he’s doing is constantly denying the answers to the same questions, and losing his temper now – even though he has more than earned that privilege, if you ask him – won’t do anyone any good.

‘’-all in agreement, then?’’

Tenma tunes in just in time to hear the muttered agreements and mentally heaves a sigh. This topic should be the last for today, but the Council has a habit of somehow drawing out the meetings longer than they’re usually scheduled for with their petty disputes.

And, unsurprisingly, someone else rises to take the word immediately after the agreement is sealed.

The Astral Captain hides his displeasure when he recognizes the Lady Samara of Faram Obius, one of the people most outspoken against the Corps’ current actions. He steels himself for the constant stream of questions and demands he has come to expect from her.

Today, however, she doesn’t immediately assault Tenma with questions.

He would’ve been relieved if he hadn’t learnt to be on guard while interfering with interstellar politics.

‘’Honored Councilors,’’ she starts, weaving her gloved fingers together in front of her, an overly worried frown pulling at her features. ‘’There is an issue that I fear has gone unnamed for far too long, one that concerns us all.’’

Grey eyes narrow, just slightly, as mutters pick up around the hologram-connected meeting rooms.

One of the Gurdonis is the first to respond, the stitching on his robes showing he is from the Western clan of the fire planet. ‘’What is it that bothers you so, my Lady?’’

Too sympathetic.

But Lady Samara is speaking again before Tenma can figure out just what it is about the Gurdonis Councilor that sets the alarm bells off in his mind, and he focuses on the Faramian again. ‘’It concerns our former adversary, Bitway Ozrock.’’

Tenma can barely keep himself from tensing at that name.

The realization strikes him, then; the Gurdonis that spoke was Lord Dengar, who has been proven to be part of the old elite, and-

And Lady Samara has been a suspect for a while now.

Dengar’s immediate response, it was clearly discussed beforehand. This must’ve been planned; something to throw off the rest of the Council.

And Tenma has no choice but to let it play out.

He grits his teeth but keeps his features blank, ignoring the urge to rest his hand on his Psyche weapon. If this is really a play from the old regime, he can’t show anything.

‘’Those not of Faram Obius do not know about this, but Bitway Ozrock has been stirring up trouble lately,’’ Samara continues. ‘’He has been demanding to meet with the esteemed guardians of the Astral Corps and, from a reliable source, I have been informed that he even requested to speak with our Lord Captain himself. A request which, I have also heard, has been granted.’’

Her eyes stray towards Tenma and as he catches her gaze, he can see her satisfaction. The source for it is impossible to miss; the sudden whispers, the guarded looks shot in the human’s direction.

Are they trying to put the Corps in a bad light?

‘’Lord Captain,’’ calls Dengar, which only confirms the brunet’s suspicions of this being a ploy, ‘’is this true?’’

Lifting his chin, Tenma steels himself and stands.

‘’Yes, Councilor, it is,’’ he says, partly aware of Prime Minister’s Zaizen sudden sharp look towards him. Of course he’s surprised – the true reason for the Earthern Astrals’ trip towards outer space was not known to the ESF. Ignoring that for now, Tenma turns to the rest of the holograms. ‘’Several weeks ago, I was notified by Astral Flail of Bitway’s current status and, after long hours of discussion, the Corps voted for my personal visit to the Dite Prison.’’

‘’Why were we not informed of this?!’’ demands one of the Sandorian Federation Councilors.

Tenma levels his gaze on the man in question. ‘’With all due respect, Bitway Ozrock has been imprisoned for several years now and has never shown any sign pointing towards escape,’’ he says evenly, focusing on the Council in its entirety again. ‘’My Astrals assured me there was no security risk. The only reason I personally made the journey was because my Soul has been proven capable of subduing Bitway’s, in case it was necessary. Which it proved not to be.’’

That, at least, seems to calm the Councilors slightly.

Still, it’s not enough, and the brunet can already see Lady Samara gearing up to continue strewing havoc.

Before she can, he continues. ‘’I visited Bitway’s cell and spoke with him. It is true, that after a long period of either silence or screaming, he has suddenly changed his ways,’’ he continues coolly, knowing his lack of wariness will do more to reassure them than his words ever could. ‘’Personally, I believe he has lost his mind in the time he has spent imprisoned. His ravings were those of a madman, barely able to make sense of; he seems to live in his own world.’’ Tenma shakes his head. ‘’The other members of Ixaal Fleet are as harmless as he is, this I can assure you. There was no need to inform the Council of something so trivial. My deepest apologies if you do not share this opinion.’’ He bows with a flourish.

Lady Samara is gritting her teeth in frustration when he straightens again, and it only worsens when he gives her a polite nod. ‘’I thank you, for bringing these concerns to my attention, my Lady,’’ he tells her with a formal smile. ‘’It was not the Corps’ intention to leave any to fear without just cause and to have frightened you so saddens me.’’

The thinly veiled insult causes Lalaya, a few seats next to the Lady of her court, to cover her amused smile with a graceful hand. ‘’Indeed, Lady Samara,’’ she says, calling attention to herself. Her face is suddenly a mask of tender concern, a delicate frown gracing her lips. ‘’The Lord Captain acted with my full knowledge and I had no wish to pull my advisors into needless worrying, when the Assembly called for attention. My hopes go to your mind settled of concern.’’

‘’Yes, Your Majesty,’’ the Faramian brings out through gritted teeth, and she gives Tenma a nod that is barely polite enough for the protocol handled by the Council. ‘’My thanks, Lord Captain.’’

‘’It was of no concern, my Lady.’’ He directs his next words to the Councilors in general. ‘’Is there anything else, Lords and Ladies?’’

Thankfully, everyone seems to have their fill of drama for the day, and after the well wishes have been extended – needless, if you ask Tenma, seeing as they will be meeting in two days’ time anyway – the hologram frequency is cut off.

He’s left alone as the glowing holograms fade away, the lights overhead flickering on. Immediately his shoulders sag and he yawns in exhaustion, taking a moment to stretch his arms after having been in almost the same position for three hours.

The room he is in is specifically for this purpose, separate from the Astral conference hall further down the corridor – this one only allows for the Council frequency, to avoid hacking of any kind.

With a sigh, Tenma lifts his arm to uncover his stello watch, turning it on and calling forth a glowing keyboard with a few quick taps. He could directly call the Faramdite operation base, but he’s truly too exhausted for conversation now, and besides, a simple message will do. If they’re in the middle of working with important data, it won’t distract them either.

Someone tried to stew havoc during today’s Council meeting by calling attention to Ozrock’s latest activities. I deflected their worries, but be on your guard. Investigate Samara of Faram Obius; her agreement with Dengar of Gurdor was too convenient.

- Tenma

That will do for today.

Covering another yawn with his hand, the brunet grabs his bag and makes his way to the door, already looking forward to going home. He needs his caffeine fix, okay.

The fate of the galaxy better be worth all this trouble.

‘’And today, we have a very special guest as well!’’ the SteTC anchor is as excitable as he has always been. ‘’Everyone, welcome the Astral Vice-Captain himself, Shindou Takuto!’’

The young man in question steps onto the stage, a friendly smile gracing his features. He’s dressed in full Astral outfit, his hair pulled back into a short ponytail to keep it out of his face.

He makes his way over to the TC host with an easy grace, accepting the alien’s warm welcome with a nod of his own. ‘’Thank you for having me, Varview, it’s an honor to be here.’’

Daxgun Varview, former commentator of the Grand Celesta Galaxy, seems to have found his calling as a SteTC anchor – although the SteTC, short for Stello Telecommunication, is only a recent development, the ‘intergalactic television server’ as Kariya so nicely put it is widely popular throughout the entire universe. It’s no surprise, though, it being the first true medium that connects the Union planets on a regular basis.

The SteTC is a direct result of the intergalactic viewing channel that broadcast the Grand Celesta Galaxy, but instead of now only broadcasting the soccer tournament, it has been used as a news channel for the past three years. And no longer do people have to leave their houses to watch from a grand screen somewhere in the middle of their city, for half a year after its launching, it became accessible on several other devices – computers, TVs, and any other equivalent that may be used on other planets.

Varview’s reputation as Grand Celesta Galaxy commentator made it so that he was easily chosen as TC anchor for the current biggest show the SteTC network offers, known as Galax, and it was certainly a good choice.

Audiences love him.

And, due to his connection from the Grand Celesta Galaxy, he somehow managed to contact the Astral Corps.

And rope them into an interview.

Truly, no one really knows what happened, but if there’s one thing they’ve learnt from this, it’s that Barga should never, under any circumstances, talk to the press again. Not ever.

Shindou has taken a seat now on the sofa that is reserved for Galax’s guests, Varview having returned to his own chair behind his reporter desk. The Astral seems completely in his element, relaxed and casual with one leg pulled onto his knee and his hands resting in his lap. They couldn’t have made a better choice for this role.

‘’So, are you hyped for the Assembly yet? I know I sure am! Woa!’’

Shindou chuckles at Varviews’ enthusiasm. ‘’Definitely,’’ he grins, and then glances at the camera as if sharing a big secret, ‘’although I must admit, the planning for it is an absolute pain. I didn’t realize just how much had to be arranged by the host planet.’’

The live audience laughs at the comment, which helps to lighten the mood even more.

Varview starts off with some easy questions relating mostly to Assembly and the Corps’ usual procedures – the monthly meetings, the new introduction of the stello watches and if they’re truly as top-notch as the creators claim, his usual duties as Vice-Captain, what it’s like to handle such a position and lead a more-or-less normal life at the same time. Takuto captivates the audience with his quick wit and easy answers, not afraid to throw in some sharp-tongued jokes both at his own expense and at that of the other Astrals; all in good humor and his teasing grin says as much.

This, as much as Tenma’s dealings with the Galaxia Council, counts as a distraction.

And no one could’ve been a better choice than Takuto.

The interview moves into more serious territory after a while when Varview asks about the rumors.

‘’People have been saying the Astral Corps has been moving out. That there’s been trouble that warranted your attention.’’

It’s not an outright question, but the careful prompting gives the Vice-Captain a chance to elaborate on the subject.

He takes his chance without even the slightest hint of hesitation.

His features pull down, forming the smallest frown, and he shifts until his arms are resting on his knees and his fingers are intertwined loosely in front of him. Even to those watching from their homes, the switch in tension is palpable.

‘’You must understand that much of this is classified, so I’m afraid I can’t say much,’’ Shindou starts with an apologetic smile. ‘’Still, I’ll try to answer as best as I can.’’

He inhales slowly, holds it, and then sighs. The gesture is nearly one of weariness, but not quite.

‘’Not too long ago, the Corps noted something during our meeting,’’ he begins slowly. ‘’A glitch in data, almost. It didn’t look like anything important at first, but it was unanimously decided to look into it anyway and it turns out, it was worth it.’’

He falls silent for a moment.

Everyone is hanging onto his every word and Varview, after just a moment, asks what they’re all thinking. ‘’Worth it? What do you mean?’’

Shindou’s expression is troubled, but his posture stays relaxed. ‘’Turns out, there’s missing data in Faram Obius’ archives.’’ That certainly gets the attention. ‘’The Queen herself didn’t even realize that certain records were missing, but investigation showed that that certainly was the case – and not only for Faram Obius, but for the entirety of the Faramdite solar system.

‘’No other planet in the Union seems to be having this problem, although that’s not surprising, since the cause of it seems to lie somewhere in the Faramdite system.’’ He pauses again, glancing around the room for a bit. Then his lips ease into a smile. ‘’We’re investigating exactly what those records are and how they’re connected – I’m afraid I can’t tell you about that, though, since it’s classified information for now. I can, however, say that it’s a very interesting project. I’m not in charge, since Earth is so far away from the Faramdite system, but I’ve seen the results and I truly think this could be profitable for the entire Union.’’

Varview, just as interested as his watchers must be, tries to gather more information and the interview returns to its previous lighter vibe. Shindou falls back into using his witty comments now that the serious topics have passed.

And that is exactly why no one would ever suspect the true severity of the situation.

His calm posture and humored responses, the jokes and the easy comments, don’t give any indication to the true happenings. Anyone watching the interview will, most likely, pick up on the story as nothing but an interesting project.

Not something that could potentially threaten the entire Galaxia Union peace.

The perfect distraction.

The station is dark at this time, late – or rather early – as it is. Truly, anyone in their right mind would be sleeping, but the girl slinking between the crates of goods hasn’t called herself that in the longest time.

Purple eyes narrow as she glances at the empty train rails, seeing the few passengers dwindling around as they wait for the next vehicle to arrive. Their number has increased in the last minutes, a clear sign it won’t be long now until the train – and her way out – gets here.

She’s glad for it. Faramian nights aren’t as cold as they could be yet, but she’s been here for several hours and Sazanaara’s underwater cities are always comfortably warm. Still, a mission is a mission, and even she can admit that the fate of the universe is a good motivator.

Powai moves further back into the shadows of her hiding space when the hum of the Faramian train reverberates in the distance. She could probably sneak on board, but the risk of being discovered is one she’d rather not take, and there’s an easier way to go about this.

Besides, her original objective may have been in need of secrecy, but she fulfilled her duty hours ago and has merely been waiting to leave in the hours after that. The unknown contents of the cargo that Soval Malcom, advisor to the Queen and confirmed member of the old regime, has sent out for transport were hard to get to, with all the security stationed around it, but she has prided herself on her skills for a reason.

Sazanaara’s underworld may be cleaner than that of Faram Obius’, as she can now personally confirm, but it is also much easier to be caught there.

And what she found in those crates… Powai clutches her stello watch tightly, a frown pulling at her features. The pictures she has gathered will be hard evidence in court, and it is vital for the Corps’ current situation.

‘’Never thought Powai would be a warrior for justice…’’ she mutters to herself, her voice drowned out by the ever increasing hum of the train. It arrives soon after, all sleek pale metal and smooth movement, and the undercover Sazanaarian watches as the passengers start boarding. Her eyes narrow as she watches the people; to get onto the vehicle, they first need to scan their tickets at the entrance.

Well, at least she has a guaranteed VIP spot.

When most people have boarded, and the train is set to depart in only a few minutes, she stands from her hiding place and stretches her limbs. A grimace follows at the soreness that pulls at her muscles, although she’s not surprised.

Stepping out of the shadows, Powai confidently walks over to one of the conductors who are part of the standard protocol, partly to make sure no one gets on board even without a ticket. She reaches for the metallic insignia hidden in the folds of her discrete, less-than-luxurious clothes that form her disguise.

The conductor sees her coming and raises his eyebrows at her foreign appearance, her blue Sazanaari skin impossible to mistake for something else. ‘’Can I help you, miss?’’ he asks when she’s in hearing distance, slightly conceding at her rugged appearance.

She lifts her chin and raises her hand so that the four-pointed star insignia she’s holding is in full view.

Wide-eyed and gaping, the conductor stares at her, obviously recognizing the badge. How could he not? The entire universe knows what it stands for.

‘’Hello, sir!’’ she chirps and dips her head in greeting, barely able to hold back her smirk at his reaction. Special treatment is nice. ‘’I’m Astral Powai Pichori of the Astral Corps and I wish to board this vehicle.’’

No one can refuse an Astral when they are fulfilling their duty, and Powai is very obviously doing so. The conductor stammers for a few seconds and then hastily drops into a clumsy bow. ‘’A-at once, miss!’’ he straightens and twists on his heel, then pauses to look over at her and hesitantly gestures for her to follow him. She does as requested, not faltering in her step as the Faramian leads her to the front of the train.

Another conductor is standing there and Powai waits lazily as the two men converse, inspecting this part of the train in the meantime. Obviously this is for the richer people, the inside of the wagon much more luxurious with its modern seats and tables.

Her eyes trail back to the two men when the second conductor, who is clearly older and more experienced than the first man she spoke with, clears his throat. ‘’Ma’am, may I see your badge?’’

Powai shows it to him, silently impressed by his composure. The Faramian looks it over and then gestures to the scanner located next to the entrance of the VIP wagon. ‘’It seems valid, but if you could…?’’

‘’Sure!’’ She steps over confidently and places the star-shaped insignia against the softly glowing screen before pulling it away. For a second, nothing happens, but then the screen flashes purple and the Astral Corps’ emblem blazes to life. She glances at them both. ‘’Would that be all?’’

The older conductor scrambles for something to say, the younger one completely speechless. ‘’Uh, yes, ma’am! Please, go right ahead.’’

Powai dips her head into a nod, gives them a cheerful ‘’thanks!’’ and then hops on board. She takes a few moments to inspect the space. It’s unsurprisingly empty, since no aristocrat would willingly travel at such an early time, and she’s grateful for it. Her disguise is very close to rags and to have to deal with rich people causing a fuss after she’s spent hours in the chilly night air is not something she’s looking forward to, and the less people know of her Astral status, the better.

She settles into one of the luxurious couches, her aching muscles relaxing and a relieved sigh escapes her.

It’s a shame she can’t use her Astral status all the time to get special treatment - this is nice. But she knows that if she did, her Captain would look at her with that disappointed stare he does so well and besides- she took an oath, and she intends to keep it.

Thoughts of her oath and her Corps brings back the terrifying discoveries she’s just made. If she could, she’d contact their main base right away – the sooner this information reaches the rest of the Corps, the better – but she knows she can’t. This train isn’t secure and an information leak is not something she’s willing to risk.

Her hand drifts towards her stello watch again and the Astral breathes in slowly, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart.

Only a few hours, she tells herself. Just a few hours and then I’ll be back at base. Her gaze finds the world outside, where the sky is turning from deep blue to a dark violet with the rising of the sun.

Purple eyes close, her grip tightening on her watch.

Just a little while.

The deserted hallway is, after the racket of the studio, a welcome change. The rhythmic tap of Shindou’s black dress shoes is the only sound breaking the silence and he reaches up to run a hand through his hair and pull it out of its short ponytail.

Truly, he would’ve preferred it if he wasn’t somehow roped into this interview, but he has to admit it has its uses. If they played their cards correctly, the enemy will be thrown off their path for at least a little while, or so he hopes. Still, with all the hassle of the Assembly preparations, having to travel the entire way to the Faramdite system isn’t something he can afford.

But what’s done is done, and at least it’s over.

He’s already said his goodbyes to Varview and the rest of the Galax crew, having stayed after the broadcast ended to catch up a bit and to convey his thanks. Now he’s on his way to the space shuttle that will take him to Faram Obius’ space station, where he’ll take the Galaxia Express back to Earth.

The young man reaches the hangar where his ride is waiting for him without much ado and scans the large hall for the vehicle. He’d ordered the pilot to rendezvous with him at this time, so the Faramian should be here somewhere.

Spotting the space shuttle, Shindou starts making his way to where it’s standing. He catches sight of the pilot as well, who is waiting next to the vehicle and hurries to salute the Astral when he catches sight of the human.

Shindou’s only warning is a weak crackle, only audible because the hangar is otherwise completely silent, and the alarmed twinge of his Soul.

The Astral barely manages to dodge the blaster shot in time, the bright energy bolt cutting through the air barely an inch away from his face.

A shocked cry comes from the pilot. ‘’Lord Astral!’’

Paying the Faramian no attention, Shindou throws himself backwards and to the ground, using his momentum to roll several feet away from where he was before, immediately pushing himself up and into a crouch after. His hand falls to his belt, swiftly grabbing his Psyche conduit even as he searches out his enemy.

It’s impossible to tell what species the alien is, dressed in all black as he is. The body type is distinctly male and so Takuto finds it safe to assume the other is a man, and he stores that bit of information away as he spots the proton gun aimed at him.

Another blast is fired and this time he is ready, blue energy flashing through his eyes as he calls upon his Soul and jumps out of the way. He lands lightly on the balls of his feet, his Psyche humming as it awakens.

The previously dark dots that disrupt the smooth metal of the conduit flare to life with blue light and Shindou narrows his eyes, twisting his feet and shifting his balance as he falls into a defensive stance.

There’s a flash and a soft zoom as his Psyche fully activates, Soul energy forming a long, thin blade and the metal plates at the end of the conduit sliding out to form a guard over his hand. Soft light reflects off the dim metallic floor, courtesy of the glowing weapon.

The sabre is perfectly balanced and he handles it with an ease that comes from years of fencing experience.

A series of shots cut through the air as the attacker lets loose a rain of proton blasts. Shindou twists out of the way of most shots and his blade cuts through the air in a flash of light as he deflects whatever he can’t avoid, dancing to the side with an easy grace.

He’s not about to stand around and just wait for his attacker to hit him, instead jumping onto a nearby crate while he simultaneously dodges underneath another blast.

It’s his turn now.

Using several crates as stepping stones, the Astral cuts a path directly towards his attacker, not allowing the alien to duck behind something for cover. When he’s reached the last crate, he jumps off with a graceful arc, landing lightly on his feet and immediately breaking out into a run, ducking low to avoid the shots his aggressor loosens.

Within seconds he’s closing in, his sabre curving upwards, and the alien barely manages to block the slash with a hastily grabbed knife that reflects the blue light of the Psyche.

They exchange several blows but the dark-clad male is clearly outmatched in close combat. When their blades lock again, instead of drawing back, Shindou twists his sabre with a sharp movement of his wrist. The attacker’s knife flies out of his hand and the Astral immediately takes the opening created, one leg kicking out and making contact with the hand holding the gun.

The aggressor cries out sharply, an audible snap echoing through the hangar and his last weapon flying out of range as well.

A second later a glowing blade is pressed against his throat and he freezes.

Narrowed brown eyes bore into the alien’s gaze, no hint of hesitation. ‘’Who are you and why did you attack me?’’

No answer is given, the aggressor stubbornly keeping his lips sealed despite the clear threat to his life. With a soft hiss of frustration, Shindou suddenly deactivates his Psyche and ducks around the man, grabbing hold of his wrists before he can react and pulling them behind his back.

For the first time since the assault started, the Astral focuses on the Faramian pilot again, who is gaping at the scene in front of him. ‘’Are there any restraints on the ship?’’ Shindou demands.

‘’A-ah, yessir! I’ll go get them!’’ the pilot doesn’t waste any time, ducking into the shuttle and reappearing only a few moments later with something clenched in his hands. He quickly joins the other two men, cautious of the aggressor but efficient when he chains the black-clad alien.

Shindou releases his tight grip on the attacker’s wrists now that he doesn’t form a threat anymore, instead grabbing his upper arm. With quick moves, he straps his Psyche conduit to his belt again and lets his free hand rest on the smooth metal, ready to grab and activate it again at a moment’s notice.

He dips his chin into a sharp nod towards the pilot. ‘’Get the shuttle started, we’re leaving.’’ His command is immediately followed and as the Faramian disappears into the space ship, the Astral and his prisoner follow him at a slower pace. Brown eyes glance at the black-clad alien. ‘’I’m sure Astral Flail will know what to do with you.’’

And hopefully, she’ll have more time to get answers – if he could, Shindou would make the man talk right now, but there’s q possibility of him having backup and the human is not interested in finding out.

Leaning back in her chair, Hilary flicks a lock of long hair out of her face and stretches her arms above her head for a few seconds.

Once she lowers them again, she slouches in her seat, staring blankly at the hologram hovering in front of her for a while. Although officially, she isn’t even on duty, her troubled mind refused to let her spend her free time like she would any other day. That’s why she finds herself at the control station only an hour after leaving it.

Said control station is mostly silent, only the sound of typing breaking the quiet. She’s not the only one here, and from her current vantage point, she can check on the other Astrals with a single look. Her workstation is located on the elevated platform taking up the back of the room, where the commander is supposed to be seated.

A part of her has to smirk at the irony of it. No one would’ve thought that she, of all people, would lead the direct operation to save the galaxy.

‘’You’re working too hard.’’

Hilary glances at the Sazanaarian, who was previously working silently at the hologram next to hers. Since Powai is still undercover, her second-in-command has taken over most of her duties.

Although, if they’re being honest, Powai likes to shove her duties onto him anyway, so it’s not that much of a difference. But, well, details.

‘’Does it matter?’’ she asks lazily, raising an eyebrow at Van. He returns her stare evenly and the Faramian sighs. ‘’I’ll take a month off after all this is done, but for now, I’m needed.’’ She rests her fingers on the keyboard in front of her, eyes returning to the hologram. ‘’Any news on that missing leader of yours?’’

Van follows her example and focuses on his own work again, even as he responds with a low hum.

They’d known they’d be losing contact with Powai. She’d warned them, nearly half a Faramian day ago, but Hilary knows they’re all getting antsy by now – only a little while longer and it’ll pass the hours Powai had said she’d be offline.

As if those thoughts somehow summon the subject in question, the doors on the other side of the room slide open and a familiar, blue-skinned girl skips inside.

‘’Hello! Did you miss me?’’

Whatever thought of ‘I must be imagining things’ immediately leaves Hilary’s thoughts at that cheery voice. There’s no way her sleep-riddled mind could match Powai’s ever-optimistic exclamations.

‘’Milady!’’ Van shoves his chair back and stands up to greet his captain. She grins and waves, skipping to the stairs that lead to the platform.

Once she’s at the top, she makes her way over to her second-in-command and fellow Astral, nearly throwing herself over Hilary’s chair. The Faramian lets her with a good-humored huff. ‘’Just as annoying as ever. I take it everything went well?’’

Powai grins. ‘’But of course! What’d you expect from me, Hil?’’ she twirls around until she’s leaning against the workstation, absentmindedly skimming the hologram hovering above it. ‘’Hm, boring, boring~ Hil, this is all so boring!’’

The other girl rolls her eyes and pushes her aside. ‘’It’s important.’’

‘’Oh, I’ve got something really important for you.’’

Alarm bells begin to ring at Powai’s satisfied tone and Hilary gives her a sharp glance. Not needing anymore encouragement, the Sazanaarian captain twists on her heel and with a few fluid motions, connects her stello to the workstation.

A loading screen flickers into vision on the hologram, staying there for a few moments, and then the download is complete. With smooth movements, Powai begins to type away at the keyboard. ‘’As you know, I was sent to investigate ol’ Lord Malcom,’’ Hilary hums, remembering the mission she’d given her fellow Astral, ‘’and it turned out to be even more interesting than we thought.’’

A file of information is pulled up on the screen. Soval Malcom, one of the oldest Councilors still alive and active, formerly serving under Lalaya’s grandfather. He’d been one of their main suspects from the very start, but everything about him has been thoroughly guarded.

Until now.

It’d been a risk to send Powai after him, and Hilary almost sent Rodan instead, but in the end it was decided that Malcom would likely be more on guard for Faramian Astrals.

‘’Here’s my official report,’’ the Sazanaari captain says, pulling up a document, but it doesn’t seem to be her main focus. And indeed it isn’t, for she quickly continues. ‘’You can look at that later. This, however, cannot wait.’’

A row of pictures suddenly flicker to life. Hilary raises an eyebrow at the sight of it – most of them are transport crates and their corresponding numbers. Van, who has been quiet until now, seems to share her confusion. ‘’Milady? What is the meaning of this?’’

Powai isn’t smiling.

‘’Watch.’’

She enlarges the first picture and then quickly clicks towards the next one, going through the first series of photos relatively fast.

Then she pauses.

Hilary immediately understands why.

It’s the first picture that shows the content of one of the crates. Although the lighting is bad, there’s no mistaking it.

Those are Psyches. Inactivated, sure, but there’s no mistaking the smooth metal and distinct shape.

‘’What…?’’ Van’s breathy whisper sums up Hilary’s thoughts perfectly.

‘’There’s a black market being run on Faram Obius,’’ mutters Powai, clicking through the photos that only show more Psyche Weapons. ‘’Someone is forging false Psyches. They’re good, at first sight, but after long-term exposure… these things are like leeches, with the way they’re taking energy.’’

The Sazanaarian captain grabs her own Psyche, holding it out for the other two to see. ‘’If I were to activate mine, my Soul energy would freely course through it and then back into me, as if it’s a natural part of my energy pathways,’’ she explains, and then nods towards the screen. ‘’These things don’t return all of it back into the body. It just keeps sucking your power right out of you. Long enough exposure will drain the user and could even cripple them.’’

Hilary grits her teeth, her hand ghosting over her own Psyche. Even turned off as it is, it hums softly at its master’s touch.

She forces herself back into the present, sharply glancing at her fellow Astral. ‘’What do you suggest?’’

The sigh Powai lets escape is wholly unexpected. ‘’We can’t deal with it ourselves,’’ she says, to the confusion of the other two. ‘’There’s too much, we can’t stop the entire black market on our own. Not with the Assembly so close.’’

That makes sense, and Hilary reluctantly nods. ‘’Inform the Queen and let her guard force deal with it?’’ she grits her teeth. ‘’Fine. I’ll get the message out.’’

‘’Wait.’’

She pauses from where she was already reaching for the keyboard, Powai’s uncharacteristic grim voice halting her movements.

‘’There’s more,’’ the blue-skinned girl admits, twisting back to the hologram and quickly skimming the next few pictures. More illegal products, obviously, and several crates and transport numbers.

Then the next picture flicks into view.

Not even the loud bang of her chair falling on the ground, courtesy of her suddenly flying out of her seat, can distract Hilary from what she’s seeing.

Smooth, black metal, resting in a crate that’s smaller than the ones shown previously. The small lights on the front are grey, showing the lack of activity from the device in question, but there’s no mistaking it.

Van’s gasp next to her suddenly reminds her of the universal need to breathe, and air rushes into her lungways.

Black shackles.

A shiver involuntarily runs down Hilary’s spine at the implications of this. King Ireid’s murder weapons were supposed to be destroyed – until they made a reappearance, to be used on Ozrock. Only Lalaya’s interference, even as unaware of the real situation as she was, saved him.

And now the cursed things have turned up again.

‘’Where are they being transported?!’’ her head whips around, furious, panicked eyes settling on her fellow Astral.

Within the hours that must’ve passed since the Sazanaarian captain took these pictures, who knows where they could have ended up? If they fall into the wrong hands…

Powai’s expression is grim when she answers, all too aware of what this means. ‘’Earth.’’

For a handful of seconds that last an eternity, the other two Astrals merely process her words.

And then Van curses quietly and Hilary sinks to her knees on the floor, eyes staring up at the hologram in disbelief.

Earth, where nearly every Astral will be gathered in less than a month’s time. Every influential figure in the universe, too.

Powai is talking again, Hilary realizes belatedly, the other girl’s words settling into her mind. ‘’This is the only pair I’ve found,’’ she says carefully. ‘’I looked everywhere else, but Malcom’s records said he only possessed one, and it seems to be true. The crates are already on their way to Faram Obius’ intergalactic station, so if we want to intercept it, we must be fast.’’

Hilary's mind reels with ideas and possibilities, trying to find the right course of action. Should she send someone after it? But who? Stage a full-out intervention? No, that would be too obvious, but anything less might mean they’ll be too late-

She sucks in a deep breath.

There’s no time to panic now.

She needs to get her head on straight, or it could cost them dearly.

Then there’s the smooth hiss of the sliding doors opening on the other side of the room. ‘’Hilary!’’ her head whips up when Arbega’s voice reaches her, relief washing over her – she’d nearly forgotten the owl-like alien was on duty right now, and his support in this matter is invaluable. ‘’We have a visitor.’’

That’s when she notices the Gurdonis captain isn’t alone.

Hilary shoots to her feet from where she was crouched on the ground, nearly flying down the stairs of the raised platform to get to the new arrivals. ‘’Oh thank everything you’re here!’’ she exclaims, throwing her arms around the stunned Vice-Captain in an uncharacteristic act of relief. She backs away just as quickly. ‘’There’s an emergency.’’

Shindou’s eyes sharpen immediately, his shoulders straightening as he focuses. ‘’What is it?’’

Arbega, too, is frowning deeply as the female Faramian leads them back to where Van and Powai are waiting. ‘’We just received new intel,’’ she says as they walk, clenching her fists briefly. ‘’It’s… it’s the black shackles.’’

She hears Arbega suck in a sharp breath, Shindou staying silent but immediately fastening his pace. A mere second later, he’s reaching the platform and getting visual of the hologram, eyes sparking blue as he scans the picture.

‘’Where?’’ is the only thing he asks.

It’s Powai, strangely demure, who answers. ‘’Earth.’’

For just a moment, Shindou closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the blue sparks have grown to a determined glow. He doesn’t seem surprised. ‘’Can we interfere?’’

‘’If we leave now,’’ Powai says. ‘’And then it’s still…’’

The Vice-Captain nods sharply, stays silent. The blue in his gaze dies down to its regular brown while the other Astrals wait for him to make a decision.

He reaches for the keyboard and pulls up a different hologram, fingers flying over the keys as he types. ‘’I’m sending a message to Tenma,’’ he says. ‘’I have a plan, once he’s given the go-ahead, we’ll put it in motion. I need you guys to be ready.’’

The others share cautious looks. ‘’We’re going after them?’’

Shindou mutters something under his breath that could very well be a curse. ‘’We’re going to try,’’ he answers a second later. ‘’Best case scenario, we can intercept them before they leave the station. But we cannot let this blow our cover – if we can’t get there in time, we’ll let them go and Tenma and the others will try and interfere on Earth.’’

‘’Won’t they avoid security?’’ Arbega casts a sharp glance at his Earthern friend. ‘’There’s the usual security for intergalactic goods, if they transport it this way, they’ll already have thought of a way to go undetected.’’

‘’Yes,’’ agrees Shindou sharply, ‘’but it might be our only chance. And even if we fail to intercept…’’ a new hologram flickers to life, and he pauses for a moment, ‘’we’ll still be on guard. Tenma’s given the go-ahead.’’ He pushes away from the desk, twisting on his heel to face the other Astrals. ‘’Let’s go.’’

The silence in the JSA conference hall is only broken by the sound of typing as the Earthern Astrals work.

That is, until Minori’s quiet voice informs them that the Galaxia Express has left the Faramian space station.

For the longest time, everyone waits in silence. There’s nothing they can do now but wait – and Kyousuke grits his teeth at that – until there’s a message from Shindou and the others to tell them whether their mission was successful, however small the chances are.

When Tenma called him, nearly two hours ago now, and told him of the new discovery and their other best friend’s plan, Tsurugi would’ve cursed up a storm if he was anyone else. Instead, he swiftly informed his brother to let them know their lunch meeting was off and then contacted any Astrals currently free.

The official notice Tenma asked them to put up was sent out less than half an hour later, informing the entire Corps of the new developments. They’d been in contact with Takuto at the same time as he kept them updated, until a little over half an hour ago, when they had to cut contact to avoid detection.

And now that the Express has left, it won’t be long before they get a new message.

Orange eyes narrow when, right at that moment, a new call comes in on his stello watch.

He accepts it and Shindou’s face lights up in the cold light of the hologram. Tsurugi doesn’t even need to ask, the tight clench of the other’s jaw and his narrowed eyes already saying enough.

‘’We failed.’’

Tsurugi nods at that, signing to Manabe to get the message out to the rest of the Corps. ‘’Did anyone detect your presence at the station?’’

‘’No. The crates had already been loaded into the Express, but several transport numbers that should’ve been there were missing. According to Powai’s intel, all those crates contained illegal goods.’’

‘’And you’re sure they were loaded onto that Express?’’

Shindou nods. ‘’Positive.’’ He heaves a sigh. ‘’Be ready to intercept on your end. There’s probably a second storage train set that’s disguised in some way. I’ll handle things here and take the next Express.’’

At that, Tsurugi narrows his eyes a bit. ‘’When’s it leaving?’’

‘’Six hours.’’

He grimaces. ‘’Are you sure? You look exhausted, Takuto-san,’’ he says. ‘’You should take time to rest before coming back.’’

The strategist is already shaking his head before he’s even finished speaking. ‘’I’ll be fine, I’ll sleep on the Express.’’ His expression softens. ‘’I’ll take care of myself, I promise. But you do the same, alright?’’

Tsurugi decidedly is not touched by the concern and fights to keep his lips from twisting upwards. Instead he jerks his chin down in a sharp nod.

Shindou almost looks like he’s fighting a smile, too, before it melts away. ‘’And take care of everyone there. How’s Tenma?’’

‘’Haven’t seen him today.’’ He grimaces again. ‘’The Council is relentless. They kept him till nearly midnight yesterday. Ibuki’s taken over his paperwork for the time being.’’

They share a displeased look.

Then, with a sigh, Shindou’s shoulders relax. ‘’I need to go,’’ he tells Tsurugi, smiling apologetically. ‘’If anything comes up, let me know. Otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow. And make sure Tenma gets some rest when he gets home.’’

‘’I will,’’ promises the striker. ‘’I’m trying to convince him to let me stand in for him at the next meeting, and I’ll have Mizukawa drug his tea if necessary.’’

Shindou huffs a laugh at that, shaking his head in amusement, but doesn’t reject the idea – probably because he thinks Tsurugi is joking. The striker doesn’t bother with correcting that belief. They say their goodbyes then, keeping it short since they’ll see each other again soon, and the call cuts off.

For a few seconds, Tsurugi stands there, eyes locked onto the lit up screen of his stello watch without actually seeing it. With an exhale that could almost be a sigh, he turns the device off and sharply twists towards the other Astrals in the hall. ‘’What’s our status?’’ he asks the room at large.

It’s Manabe who answers him, not looking away from the hologram he’s typing away at. ‘’We’re tracking the Express. If anyone gets in or out, we’ll know. Other than that, it’s set to arrive tomorrow morning at nine.’’ He hits a key and the main screen in the room lights up, splitting into a dozen smaller frames that show the video feed inside the many train sets of the space vehicle. The young genius pushes up his glasses, light reflecting off them sharply. ‘’No sign yet of where the crates could be hidden.’’

Tsurugi’s eyes narrow in annoyance and he nods sharply. Of course he’d already expected it wouldn’t be that easy, but one could hope.

He crosses his arms, scanning the screen. His fellow Astrals, while still working, are clearly waiting for him – and that thought has his eyebrows furrowing. It’s his call. Without Shindou or Tenma here, it’s him they turn to – and however unwilling, he understands it. He has the most experience here, after all.

‘’What of security at the station tomorrow?’’

‘’Nothing impressive.’’ The striker turns to the owner of the voice, Aoi, and the girl meets his gaze with an unhappy look of her own. She chews on her lower lip and shakes her head. ‘’Barely more than regular safety standards. This Express was only supposed to bring supplies for the Assembly. We can’t suddenly insist on an Astral being there – way too obvious.’’

As expected, too.

Tsurugi clicks his tongue, mind racing. He’d ask Shindou, but he can’t disturb him now.

Really, though, there’s only one logical solution here. ‘’We’ll go in undercover,’’ he states finally. ‘’There’s a security group who checks the entire Express before it’s unloaded. We’ll exchange it for our own people.’’ Nodding to himself, his hand finds his phone in his pocket. Mind made up, he orders them to keep him updated and makes his way up the stairs and to the door.

The hallway beyond the conference hall is abandoned and he crosses it with sure steps, entering another, smaller room. Inside is empty, as he’d known it would be, and it’s only a matter of moments to turn on the room’s defense systems against possible eavesdroppers. That done, the striker makes himself comfortable on a chair and grabs his phone, easily finding the number he’s looking for.

As the call connects, he smiles thinly. ‘’Gouenji-san? I need a favor.’’

Tsurugi, Shindou and Tenma's Psyche Weapons.