Year 248 P.L. Rychter Calendar
Coordinates: 15.4°N; 29.8°E
Site Designation: Rubicon (City of)

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He'd been down in the Nautilus's sensor archive for two whole days before the call came for him. Karrin Thaniakas emerged into his temporary office, looking thoroughly sheepish, her hands fidgeting awkwardly in front of her.

Lanto let out a slight groan as he straightened in his seat, swivelling to face her. He blinked, scrubbed at his stubbled chin and picked up the ceramic mug of lukewarm coffee idling on his desk. It wasn't the same brew he had at home; lacked the real kick of the good stuff, but caffeine was caffeine.

"Archivist," he said, raising the mug to her. "What can I do for you?"

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," she said. Her eyes flickered to the bank of glittering screens and the heaps of hand scrawled notes on his desk. "How's it coming?"

"Slowly." Lanto made a vague gesture to the piles. "So far I've found no reference in the Nautilus logs concerning anything inexplicable, or any evidence of the Crawler presence before touchdown. You?"

"The same, I'm afraid."

"Then what brings you knocking on my door?"

"We've had an urgent communique bounced to us."

"From the Commissariat?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. Signal routed from Brekka."

Lanto's brow rose as the implications sank in. "How long ago?"

"Came through on a secure channel five minutes ago."

"Send it to me down here. Now."

Karrin dipped her head. "Yes, sir." Then she disappeared back out of the hatch. Lanto let out a huffing breath of frustration, his concentration already slipping back to the vast sludge of the sensor archives. He'd trawled through dozens of painstaking crew entries, geological surveys from orbit and long distance, ancient planetary maps, and even some of the antique crew logs in old Earth diction, but so far nothing.

His eyes hurt, and so did his joints, and he knew they were only scratching the surface of the information in the old ship's bones.

He looked up as the holoscreen to the right of his temporary desk sprang into life. A flat projection faced him, and on it Aurelia's face appeared, her face grim even through the distorted image. She saluted.

"Sir."

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Lanto asked, his unease growing with every passing second. "We've only just begun our investigations here."

"I know, sir," she replied, the cobalt lattice of her image shimmering. "I'm sorry to interrupt you so early, but this couldn't wait. Official word hasn't reached Rubicon yet, but it will soon, as soon as the Commissariat here figures out exactly what they want to say."

He felt the bones in his fingers ache ominously. "What happened?"

"The Brekkans sent a delegation to their Liaison outpost to meet with the Scraegans after the incident at Coaler's Basin."

"And?"

"Whatever the plan was, I'm afraid to say it backfired."

"Ah." Lanto massaged his chin, knowing that could only mean one thing. "What happened?"

"From what I've heard, everything seemed to be going as planned, but there was some kind of unscheduled detonation."

"Unscheduled detonation." Lanto repeated. "So, a bomb?"

She nodded. "That's my understanding?"

"You think they deliberately sabotaged the meeting?!"

"The Commissariat?" Aurelia shook her head emphatically. "Not a chance. Most likely suspects are a group of anti-Scraegan extremists."

"Not exactly a the kind of people thin on the ground in Brekka," Lanto muttered.

"I don't have a lot of info on them, but they've been very vocal against the truce."

Lanto scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Again, not an uncommon feeling, especially in Brekka, Lieutenant. You're sure it was them?"

"These aren't the usual gang of headbanging militants," she replied. "I've done some digging beyond what the Commissariat want to share. These people are organised, and they're armed. Everflowing, they'd have to be to pull off something like this."

"Did they catch who did it?"

"Not as far as I know, but things are still early." Aurelia eased back in her chair and reached out of shot, scooping up a glass and taking a gulp. By the flex of her teeth and lips he could tell it was alcohol.

"A long day, lieutenant?"

"You could say that."

"And what of Brekka? What are the Commissariat going to do?"

"They've pulled most of their forward units out of Scraegan territory to avoid further confrontation, but they've got a unique problem."

"The dig site," Lanto murmured. "Has there been any word?"

Aurelia shook her head. "Not yet, but it may only be a matter of time before word reaches the Scraegans there." She gave a shrug. "Looks like we're at war all over again, sir. I'm sorry."

"The Scraegans." Lanto drummed fingers thoughtfully on his desk before fixing her with a beady eye. "Any indication of further hostilities?"

"I haven't seen any reports."

Lanto waited for a moment, but she didn't elaborate. His brows furrowed.

"So are we at war again?"

"Maybe not yet, but I can see it coming down the tracks, sir."

"Does Yanfoukis share your rather pessimistic view?"

"I'd call myself a realist," she chuckled bleakly. "Minister Yanfoukis told me that under the circumstances an emergency vote is being brought to authorise full mobilisation and the call up of all inactive regulars – though the official announcement hasn't been made. I give it a week at most before have this drowning city is armed to the teeth and ready to fight."

Her expression softened and she sighed. "I'm sorry, Lanto. I know this isn't what you wanted."

"By the Watching Lords," Lanto muttered, tossing his stylus moodily onto the desk and rubbing his eyes. "No it isn't."

"Sir, if I know what's been happening, odds are Nastassos and the others do too. They'll be planning their next move already. With you down in the Nautilus..." The statement trailed off and she shrugged awkwardly.

"Alright, lieutenant," he said after a moment. "Good work."

"Thank you, sir. There is one more thing."

"What's that?"

"We've had a stroke of luck."

"Oh?"

"That Scout lieutenant, Brackenshaw? She's just arrived back in the city, and she was right there when everything went to the River at the Liaison Post."

"Talk to her," Lanto snapped, his gaze flashing back to the screen. "Find out exactly what happened there – whatever she knows. And speak to Yanfoukis and anybody else who'll listen to you. See what more you can find out about the bastards who were behind this."

"I will, sir. And what about you?"

"What indeed?" He pressed his lips together tightly, and closed his eyes, the cogs of his mind trundling into gear. In the void of thought he joined the dots, one by one, and in a few seconds he knew exactly where he needed to be right now. Frustration wrenched at his guts. "I fear things are already in motion that we cannot stop. But what say we try, eh?" Sighing heavily and dragging a hand across weary eyes, he nodded to her. "I will be in touch, Lieutenant. Let me know what you find out."

Concern flickered on her face, but after a brief moment she suppressed it and saluted. "Yes, sir."

Lanto cut the link. A swell of energy boiled through his elderly frame and he rose from his chair. He tapped his earpiece for the internal comm. "Thaniakas?"

"Sir?"

"Get back down here. I need to speak to you immediately."

"On my way, sir." She sounded a little put out – probably because she'd just finished working her way back through the ships hive of hallways before being called back, but right now Lanto didn't care.

Proof of his deduction came when she re-merged a moment later, cheeks flushed. To his irritation, however, she wasn't alone. Lieutenant Almar trudged in after her, rifle slung across his shoulder, a questioning look on his face.

"Everything alright, Minister?" he asked innocently.

"I didn't call you," Lanto hissed, before turning his attention back to Thaniakas. "I need to leave – temporarily."

"What?!" she blurted. "Why?! I don't-,"

"Enough!" he barked, cutting her off. "I do not have time to explain. Continue your work here and I'll return as soon as I can." He pointed at his documents. "No-one except you touches those." His eyes flashed briefly to Almar then back. "Do you understand."

"Absolutely."

"Sir, where are you going?" Almar said.

"None of your bloody business, young man."

"Minster Numitor, I have orders."

"No doubt." Lanto waved a dismissive hand. "If it bothers you so much, you can follow me and fulfil your precious orders."

The lieutenant considered that, his face slowly edging closer to annoyance with each neuron fired. A final aggravated sigh signalled his capitulation and he began hastily speaking orders into his radio.

He was still talking went Lanto swept past him.

*

Lanto stormed into the Commissariat Chambers of Rubicon with Lieutenant Almar close behind. He couldn't even be bothered to protest, and at least the lumbering soldier had made himself useful by clearing a path at the busy transit stations outside the chambers. Once they were clear, however, Almar actually struggled to keep pace, such was the ferocity of the old politician's stride.

"Minister! Sir!" he called. "What is so urgent?"

"Pissing Rivers, would you just keep up?!" Lanto swore, not even glancing back as he went sweeping through the front doors, leaving startled attendants in his wake.

"What is going on?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Minister, I know how you must feel about me," Almar said earnestly. "But I'm just another soldier. I'm not special. I don't control which assignments I get."

"Well in that case, I'm going to see about stopping your father from embroiling all of Rychter in another war." He glanced back viciously. "Is that a good enough reason for you?"

Almar simply scowled and pulled level with him as they stepped into the elevator. The whole structure was a hive of activity, but he'd had no messages passed to his personal comm. Nothing unexpected there, he supposed, given Nastassos's manoeuvring.

"What is going on around here?" Almar grunted.

"There's been an incident," Lanto replied. "At the Liaison Post in the south. An incident that'll give every warmonger in this city an excuse to send another army south."

"War?"

"Some people want it." He shook his head grimly. The elevator hummed pleasantly, the twang of inoffensive wavesinger chords unable to soothe his ruffled feathers. "And if I've guessed correctly, there's an emergency session of the Planetary Defence Sub-Committee about to begin."

"The what?"

"Drown me, you really don't talk to your father much, do you?" Lanto chuckled.

"He's on a dozen committees, so are you. I lose track."

"This one's a little different."

The elevator doors opened and Lanto's stride returned with a vengeance, yanking Almar along like gravity. He staked through the Commissariat halls until he reached the office of Commissary-General Xanthus, and this time he didn't bother knocking.

He swept in like a rampant tide, and found five of the committee's eight members already there. Some of them simply nodded to him, expecting his presence, but he noticed a few surprised glances; eyes twitching angrily. His hunch had been enough. The people who'd wanted to ram a vote through without him would be sorely disappointed.

"Minister," Xanthus said calmly, as thought she'd run into him doing the shopping. She inclined her head to him respectfully, before her gaze shifted to his chaperone, and hardened into diamond. "Who is this?"

"I... err," the young man blundered over his words.

"This is Lieutenant Ventes Laemen Almar Nastassos," Lanto finished for him. "My..." He glanced back, an amused smile tugging at his mouth. "Well what is it? Bodyguard? Handler? Jailer?"

"Security liaison," Almar managed.

"Thank you, lieutenant." Xanthus gestured to the door behind him. "Your security clearance, however, does not extend to the contents of this meeting."

The lieutenant had the good sense to know when he'd overstayed his welcome, and saluted sharply.

"Of course, ma'am." He gave Lanto a bobbing nod. "I'll be outside, sir."

"Very good."

Almar withdrew like an ashamed dog, though not without a nervy glance at his father. The elder Nastassos's face was reddening already with anger, and Lanto took that small measure of victory as he sank gratefully into one of the empty seats.

"You know," he murmured, fixing Nastassos with a mischievous glare. "Considering his origins, I think the lieutenant has a bright future ahead of him."

"Save your barbs, Lanto," the big man shot back. "While you've been grubbing around in the archives there have been serious developments in the south."

"Oh, yes, I'm well aware."

Startled faces gawped at him for a moment – save for Xanthus herself who simply reclined in her chair with the faintest glimmer of a smirk. In that instant he wondered how much of this that formidable woman had orchestrated. How much did she gain from constantly having Lanto and Nastassos at odds? How often did they pit the others against each other only to play to the roll of peacemaker a the final hour?

Everflowing River, bring me to calm shores, he thought to himself, before swivelling to face Xanthus. "So, let's talk about war, ladies and gentlemen."