Gabriel and Madeline watched the screen and the car through the drone following along. For several long minutes, the car drove through the city, before finally emerging into the countryside. At least there were more vegetation and fewer houses. Madeline put a hand on his leg and he noticed he’d been fidgeting. He put his own hand on hers and focused on the screen. After a total of 20 minutes, though it felt like longer to Gabriel, the car stopped at a gate and the perspective shifted to inside the car. He saw an orange hand move around the camera and it flickered with black every now and again.

“Eye camera?” Madeline asked.

Gabriel squinted and noticed that she was correct. The car had four seats, facing each other like the shuttles back on Mhinos enabling Zura to look at both the other Justicars. There was some artificial smoothing in the video, it didn’t quite follow the jerky motions of Zura’s eyes. It still made it a bit hard to watch but Gabriel had only expected sound after the drone could go no further.

“Gabriel, can you hear me?” He heard Zura’s voice through the speakers.

“Yes,” Gabriel said to the room, having no idea where the microphone was located on his end.

“Good, you will see from my perspective and hear what I hear, however it wont be as clear.” She explained.

“Understood,” Gabriel said.

“Good, then I will stop the sound on my end,” Zura said.

“Good luck,” Madeline said.

“Thanks.” Zura looked around and focused on a blank spot in the ceiling. Then she blinked a few times, shifting her gaze a little. “There, the sound is off,” Zura said to Nyria.

“Alright, good,” Nyrai said, then she pulled her pcu out of her pocket and smiled. “We have more information to go on. The air samples that were taken as Turan docked are interesting, to say the least. I’ll send them to you,” she said to Zura.

Then Nyria stepped out of the car. She spoke in a friendly tone to a guard but Gabriel didn’t quite make out what she said. But regardless, she soon re-entered the car and they drove through the gate. Through Zura’s eye, Gabriel saw a large building, more like a mansion. They stopped and everyone got out, meeting another guard, A Roniean woman, clearly armed.

“Hello!” Rik’Tensel said in a friendly tone. “We are sorry to bother you and Mr. Turan Irnik, but we are from the Union Archives.”

“Mr. Irnik is busy, please come again later with an appointment,” The Guard said.

“I’m afraid it can’t wait,” Rik’Tensel said, bowing his head. “During Mr. Irnik’s latest trips to Union space the cargo manifest has been either tampered with or some clerical error has been made. We have hurried over to set things straight, otherwise, the Union will deny Mr. Irnik’s next trip into Union space,” Rik’Tensel said in a concerned tone.

Nyria took a small step forward, “Please, we will not take up much of his time, we just want to clear up this misunderstanding. We would like to clear this up before Mr. Irnik’s next trip, which will take him into the Union.”

The guard looked them over and sighed. She stepped away and put her hand to an earpiece, talking softly. “Mr. Irnik has set aside 20 minutes for this,” the guard said.

“Wonderful!” Rik’Tensel said and they all followed the guard into the building. The building seemed to have more rooms than necessary as they passed through two corridors and up a large staircase before reaching a door. The guard knocked and opened the door.

Gabriel watches as all three Justicars filed into the room, acting like tourists, looking around at the paintings and fancy furniture. Inside, behind a desk sat a Roniean man with his hands clasped. Turan Irnik was dressed in a fancy suit and was the only Roniean Gabriel had seen that wore jewelry, at least more than a necklace. He had rings on almost all fingers and two bracelets on his left wrist.

“So, what’s this nonsense about records?” He asked in an annoyed tone. He waved at the guard. “Wait outside.”

“Oh, yes of course,” Rik’Tensel said after he stopped gawking at the decoration. He and Zura took a seat in the two chairs in front of the desk. “I’m sure this is just some misunderstanding, but your records from your last trip do not match. There are some smaller discrepancies with a few earlier trips as well, but this last in particular is of special interest.” He began fumbling with his pack and pulled out physical paper records and began flipping through them.

Zura in the meantime got a tablet out of her bag and began typing. “Ready,” she said to Rik’Tensel.

“What’s this?” Turan asked and gestured vaguely towards Zura.

“Hm? Oh, she is here to keep a record of the conversation, to help clear up any mistakes. And Nyria is from your government,” Rik’Tensel said with a friendly tone and a gesture towards the Roniean who stood to the side.

“Fine, get on with it,” Turan said.

“Fantastic, alright, straight to the point.” Rik’Tensel flipped through a few more pages. “The issue we have is that when you arrived back here you had more than 500 units more cargo than when you left Union space. But you stated that your trip was just observing a planet on the way. Um, do you know why this is?”

“No, some dockworker probably made a mistake,” Turan said.

“Ah, then may we confirm that by checking your ship’s cargo records with our own from your time in Union space?” Rik’Tensel asked, still with his friendly professional tone.

“I don’t have time for this, you can contact the Captain for that, I don’t—” Turan began.

“Mr. Irnik,” Nyria interrupted. “By Roniean law, you are required to have those records on hand as you are the owner of the ship. Any unscheduled inspection shall—” She continued before Turan held up a hand.

“I know the law, I just don’t see why it’s important. Maybe the crew bought something personal, or it was spare parts that the Union missed,” He said and glared at Rik’Tensel.

“That’s what we are here to clear up,” Rik’Tensel said. “It might be a clerical error, but unless you know that this extra weight consisted of, we have to see the records, or you will be prohibited to enter Union space. My hands are tied in this matter,” Rik’Tensel said with a sigh.

“I have a big ship, many things can change the weight. Even food weights a substantial amount.”

“Ah, yes, about that. You went through less food than expected, correct?” Rik’Tensel flipped a page.

“What?”

“It’s almost like you stopped somewhere for two days, as you said, food for a crew of fifty weighs quite a lot.” Gabriel noticed that Rik’Tensel had dropped most of the friendly tone from his voice, but still kept it professional.

“Preposterous, I have pictures to prove I spent all that time in orbit,” Turan huffed.

“I see, I’ll mark that as a mistake then,” Rik’Tensel said and turned to Zura. “Do you have the air records?”

Turan froze and glanced at Zura, “Air records?”

“Yes? the Roniean government collects air samples from all trips into Union space to ensure no airborne disease has been spread,” Rik’Tensel said.

Turan looked a little paler, “I will look into the records, I’m sure we can—”

“Here they are,” Zura interrupted. “Hm, weird, your ship contains very similar air quality to a mining ship that was confiscated and discovered to be a black market...” Zura tailed off and looked up at Turan.

“Those must have been mistaken,” Turan said, a little too fast.

“And the contraption that resembled a stasis chamber that was transported from your ship?” Nyria asked.

“That’s...” Turan said. His right hand began drifting down towards the edge of the table. “Fine, I might have stopped by a market, but I didn’t know it was illegal.”

“And what did you buy there that needed a stasis chamber?” Rik’Tensel asked.

“Just some alien animal, just a curiosity.”

“Where’s the human?” Rik’Tensel asked with a harsh tone.

“What are you accusing me of, Why would I know where...” Turan began, but suddenly he trailed off, looking at their faces, from one to the other. From Zura’s perspective, Gabriel saw that a black tattoo appeared on Nyria’s face. It was located under her left eye and looked like a black square, traveling down to about the top of her mouth. Rik’Tensel moved his face enough that Gabriel saw a white similar tattoo on his face as well.

“What was that Mr. Irnik?” Rik’Tensel asked.

“...Justicars...” Turan said softly, he was definitely a few shades paler.

“Correct, and you know what that means, now, where’s the human? before we lose patience please,” Rik’Tensel said and leaned forwards.

Turan’s right hand slipped down under the table. Nyria launched for him but he had pressed a button that started an alarm. She pulled him to his feet and placed him in front of her, pulling a gun from her clothes.

Zura and Rik’Tensel instead, began rolling up their sleeves, showing several large geometric tattoos that consisted of tightly packed symbols, and that definitely wasn’t there when Gabriel sparred with them.

Armed guards burst into the room and guns were pointed at everyone. “Justicar Zura, number 32-435,” Zura said.

“Justicar Rik’Tensel, number 21-265,” Rik’Tensel said. Both had their hands up, empty.

“Justicar Nyria, number 15-637,” Nyria said.

“Shoot them!” Turan shouted.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Zura said. The guards furthest into the room took a step too close and Zura moved, grabbing the gun and twisting before kicking the legs out from the guard. The gun went up, aimed at the next guard who froze. Madeline froze and gabbed Gabriel’s arm. Gabriel leaned forward in his chair like that would do anything.

“Hey!” Nyria shouted. “Think for a second, are you prepared to live a life on the run from both the Union and our own government? None of you got a family to take care of?”

The guards hesitated. Zura backed up a step, her newly acquired gun still pointed at the guard. “I don’t care if you are employed by Irnik or if you are hired from somewhere else.” She began, “Shooting any of us will end your life, one way or another.”

“We have no reason to suspect any of you,” Rik’Tensel said. “Unless you are aware that Mr. Irnik has purchased a human in stasis after the announcement of humans were made public.”

“You have no proof!” Turan shouted but was ignored.

The guard that had lost her weapon recovered and backed towards the door, “And you have proof that you are Justicars and not some—”

“Yes,” Rik’Tensel interrupted. “Bring a scanner, class 3.”

While the standoff continued a guard went off to find the scanner. She returned a few minutes later with a hand scanner that had a pcu attached. Rik’Tensel held out his arm, indicating a tattoo on his inner forearm. It was scanned and the pcu began ringing.

The guard, who Gabriel assumed was the head guard, picked up the pcu and walked off just outside to talk. Gabriel only heard “Who the hell, Oh, sorry ma’am and yes, of course,” before the guard returned and spoke with clenched teeth, “My apologies, I have confirmed your identity and that you are here with the permission and support of the government.”

“Fantastic,” Rik’Tensel said. “Zura, give the nice lady her gun back and we can leave.”

The guard scowled but didn’t object as her gun was returned. Turan shouted insults to his guards as he was escorted through the mansion. They threw him into the car before settling in for the drive back to the ship.

“Do you want to admit your crimes now?” Zura asked Turan who scowled back.

“There is no proof,” he said.

Nyria cocked her head to the side, “No? You’re telling us that if we interrogate all your workers and go investigate your house we will find nothing?”

“Yes,” Turan said, but Gabriel thought he was faking it. He looked nervously around the small car. All three Justicars were staring at him, saying nothing. Nyria still had her gun out, resting casually in her lap.

“Well!” Rik’Tensel said quite loudly, making Turan jump. “You are under arrest and will be transported to the closest Justicar headquarter to be interrogated. Assuming you don’t feel like admitting. If you do, we can hand you off to the local government.”

Turan chewed his lip but kept quiet. The rest of the trip was quiet, with Turan staring at the floor, or shooting angry glances at the Justicars. All were keeping an eye on him. They stopped at the ship and Turan was pulled from the car before Zura turned off the video.

Madeline puffed out a breath and squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder. Then she kissed his cheek and left the room. Gabriel sighed and put the prepared pack on the table, before clasping his hand and waiting.

A few minutes later he saw Turan being escorted in front of the windows to the meeting room he was sitting in. They opened the door and moved in.

“Ambassador?” Rik’Tensel said surprised, “Are you using this room, we can take the next.”

“No need, I’ll move,” Gabriel said.

“Rik’Tensel?” Captain Densiri’s voice came from outside. Rik’Tensel stepped outside and Gabriel reached under the table, pressing the button underneath. The door slammed close, and armored shutters closed over the windows, both those to the interior and to the outside.

“What is this!” Turan shouted and backed against the door. There was muted banging heard from the other side.

“We have about 10 minutes before the Justicars outside figure out I have changed the codes to clear this lockdown. Then maybe 10 more while they make the FTL call back to Mhinos to get the override codes from the owner.” Gabriel grabbed Turan by the arm and forced him down into a chair. Then he tied him down firmly. “I want you to really think about what I can do to you in 20 minutes.” Gabriel pulled up another chair and sat down facing Turan. “Where is my sister?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gabriel sighed, “Why does no one take the easy way out. Fine, anytime you want to talk, go ahead, I’ll get started.” He stood and walked around the table to the bag.

“Started with what?” Turan asked, shooting nervous glances at both Gabriel and the bag.

“Do you know what waterboarding is?”

“What?”

“No, of course, you don’t,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “You see, the human army has something called SERE training. Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. Now I didn’t complete my training but I got to try out being waterboarded.” Gabriel opened the bag and put a towel on the table, along with a few wide-necked bottles of water.

Turan huffed and smirked, “Water?”

“Yes, we will find out if waterboarding works on Ronieans,” Gabriel said and walked over. “What I’m going to do is wet this towel, wrap it very tight over your face, and with your head leaned back, I will pour water over your face. This, in humans, created the feeling of drowning,” Gabriel said and began wetting the towel. “But I can’t say I’ve tried it before, I hope I don’t mess up.”

“You… you can’t! Torture is...”

“Illegal?” Gabriel suggested. “Where is my sister?”

Turan ground his teeth and remained quiet, “You don’t have any proof of anything.”

“I know,” Gabriel said. “We will start slow, only one bottle. That’s just a few seconds.” He turned Turan's chair and tipped it so it leaned back against the table.

“Wait, wait,” Turan began but Gabriel put the towel over his face, holding it taught with one hand. Then he poured the water over it. And learned that Ronieans were indeed susceptible to waterboarding. Turan began sputtering, making choking noises, and wriggling in his chair. But, only a few seconds later the bottle was empty and Gabriel removed the towel.

“That was one bottle, next time I will use two. Then.” He paused and pulled a large jug from the bag. “Then we move up.”

“You...can’t” Turan sputtered.

“Where is my sister?” Gabriel asked. “We have at least 15 minutes. If waterboarding doesn’t get results I will go on to more conventional torture. Needles under nails, breaking fingers, take your pick.”

Turan paled, “But...I...” He clamped his mouth shut but was beginning to look sick. Gabriel grabbed the towel in both hands and moved towards him. “Wait, wait, I’ll tell you!”

“Good,” Gabriel said. “But first, if you lie to me, I will come back and we will complete this session and more.”

“The human—” Turan began.

“MY. SISTER.” Gabriel said.

Turan flinched, “Your...sister is in a lab three hours away by ship. I didn’t even wake her up, I… I did nothing, just handed her over.”

Which meant they had most likely already heard about Turans arrest and would have hours to prepare. Gabriel took a deep breath and slammed his fist down on the table, putting a nice dent in the thin metal, “GOD DAMN!...why can’t it just be easy.” He sighed and grabbed Turan’s chin. “Tell me everything. Right. Now.”

Turan, to his credit, was very selfish and spilled everything he knew to save his own skin. He described the little layout he had seen, and what security he knew of. He didn’t know any names, unfortunately.

“I… I only do a few jobs for the syndicate, I’m not a member,” He finished.

Gabriel nodded and grabbed another towel from the bag. Turan flinched but this one was dry. Gabriel threw it in Turan’s lap. “While we head out I will still have people on this ship that can act, regardless of what happens to me at the lab. Do remember that,” Gabriel said.

“Yes, yes, I will, I’m not lying!” Turan hurridly said.

“Good.” Gabriel grabbed the rope binding Turan’s hands to the chair and pulled the clearly accessible loose ends, releasing him. Turan leaned away in the chair and dried his face. Gabriel walked over to his previous chair and pressed the button again, lifting the lockdown.

“Gabriel what happened!” Rik’Tensel demanded as he entered the room.

“I don’t know, some kind of malfunction?” Gabriel suggested. Turan glanced at Gabriel and took a breath as if to begin speaking but stopped as Gabriel opened a bottle of water. “Unless the panic button was enabled?” Gabriel suggested and pressed the button under the table. It did nothing. “Nope, guess not.”

Rik’Tensel shot an annoyed look around the room, “We’ll have to get maintenance to take a look.” He pulled Turan to his feet, pausing for a second at his wet shirt. “Nervous drinker?” He asked as he pulled Turan out.

Zura stood in the doorway and glanced at Gabriel once Turan was out of earshot, “Did it work?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said and told Zura about the lab.

“Then gear up, we’re going on a raid,” Zura said.