Quinn Law was unaware of how exactly much time had passed before she heard the loud taps of metal echoing into her ears.

Even after hearing the rhythmic sounds. Law brushed the thoughts aside. Cleared her mind before continuing to wait with the practiced patience of nature's most efficient hunters. As all knights were taught to do.

She sat with her palms laid flat on her thighs so that her fingertips remained flush with her kneecaps. Spine as rigid and level as a wall. Eyes locked on the dancing tapestries at the center of her vision that depicted the young King and her Imperial Majesty during their years in cislunar space.

Not even when the relatively large, mechanical feline entered the hall and sat before her did her gaze shift. The thin hairs of its mane occluding the tapestries before her as it slowly lowered itself on its hind legs.

"The King of Rhea summons you, Field Marshal Law." The droid monotonously, motionlessly, announced.

Wordlessly, Law stood from her bench and bowed her neck towards the droid, eyes still locked forward, before continuing to stand in place for a moment longer. Listening to the sharp taps of the messenger recede down the corridor and eventually cease altogether.

Turning her neck about, Law gazed upon a humanoid robot in the distant corner, softly reflecting the dim indirect lighting of the waiting room from its banded plates of etched, glistening armor. The First Ghost Model; or G1, served as a mobile server and communications platform that was at least an order of magnitude more powerful than even the hardware in her Imperial Majesties head. Law's in particular, stood five centimeters taller than herself and was otherwise accurate to her physical dimension.

With a slight focus of the mind and a surge of vertigo, Law's senses abruptly lurched across the room, dizzyingly shifting her field of view back unto herself as she turned about in place.

She took one look at the folds of the bleached tunic wrapped around her and let out a weary sigh. Another, as she inspected the soft, thin fabric that shifted gracefully around her waist and thighs and the adorned and jeweled sash that was tugged at and adjusted beneath her slender, calloused fingers. It made her stomach coil. If that were even possible.

She felt... vulnerable. If not overtly nimble. An assuredly dangerous combination for any member of her House.

Of all the customs and culture that were influenced from their terrestrial ancestors, Quinn Law secretly loathed that the Vaher Monarchy had long held a preference for such rags and robes in high fashion. Tailored to modern times as they were, with them being sown in a way that made it look as if drapes or curtains had been wrapped around their limbs to resemble blouses and slacks, all tucked into loose chained, crystal gloves and simple dress boots. It was a stark difference from the sometimes confining sense of security granted from her armor.

Catching her own shoulders heave and lower themselves in repeated dreariness, Law severed her connection with her ghost. Feeling again the sudden surge of vertigo before she turned down the hall. Striding purposefully towards a large baroque door at the end that featured an intricate carving of Saturn, her rings, and the ice-moon Rhea domineering the foreground. Promptly halting in place to stand at attention. Law Purposefully rose her right hand and rapped hard on the door twice.

After waiting an additional two seconds, Law pushed through threshold and immediately felt the now distant tremblings of fear race through her spine. Almost stifling her gait as she saw the King, in the flesh, towering over his simple stone throne and the mechanical puppet that regularly parroted His Majesties decrees; currently powered down on the throne with its chin aptly resting on its fist and only vaguely resembling the King's glistening, tea-colored scalp and thick, pewter-colored beard so as to not fall too far down the uncanny valley.

After witnessing the Kings glare, moving through the throne room proper proved to be much like a walk across the entirety of the Gate they stood within. Irrespective of the room being a mere five-by-ten meters.

She'd had no cause for concern in the moments leading up to her entrance. As Field Marshal, Law would regularly find herself summoned to King Vaher's true throne room- A hall, no larger than a storehouse, that was starkly dull when compared to the vibrant and dazzling atrium regularly seen by the serfs and gentry whenever his Majesty chose to host or address them. A hall, dimly lit and unadorned with any possible distractions, such as art or even spare seats for the King's guard and vassals to observe or advise.

Each of her royal summons were held in the true throne room. And nearly each and every one of those summons had involved the King's puppet. Only when distributing prestigious reward, or divine punishment, would the King present himself in the flesh.

Which meant His Majesty was fully aware of Law's sin.

It brought as much shame to her as it did excitement. Feeling, for the first time in her long life, trepidation. Fear of the Monarch of Rhea. Her King. A man as old as the Empire itself and one so trusted by Her Imperial Majesty as to hold command over the entirety of her esteemed Knights of Saturnia.

She could almost laugh at the absurdity of it, but such actions weren't reserved for Saturnian Knights.

So, Law held her face stone-still as she halted three meters before the King's throne, and with her feet aligned side-by-side, she took a solidary step backwards with her left leg, bent her right knee in a bow, then lowered her head until her eyes; locked forward, stared at a point no higher than the base of the King's throne.

And waited.

"State your name." The unmoving King's ghost demanded after a few long moments. Piercing the air with His Majesty's cold authority.

Law bowed her neck a degree lower before replying as respectfully as she could. "Quinn Law, your Majesty."

"Tell me, Law," King Vaher said through his flesh. His voice deep and rich like a brass instrument sung from a grandmaster's lungs. "How Lord Sylan's lands are faring."

She knew the demand was rhetorical. As Monarch, King Vaher was undoubtedly aware of all things notable happening within the Gates of his Nobles.

However. With his choice of words, or lack thereof, Law saw an assuredly good sign. Giving her a small sliver of hope for a stressless encounter.

"The conflict between Lord Sylas' subjects and that of Lord Ibrahim's encroaches ever closer to his capital, your Majesty." Law bowed again. "My commanders have reported to have increased patrols around all of the Lord's most treasured properties."

"If so." He spoke almost instantly. His deep, melodious voice ringing Law's heart into a fearful tremble like a grand bell. "Then I see no reason why you've left yourself a backdoor in Gale."

'Dammit!' Law cursed to herself as she lowered her chin down into her chest. "My King, I-"

"Do you know why Her Imperial Majesty agreed to having her Knight's prance around in that hedonistic sty?" The King abruptly asked. Much to the shock of Law. Despite his authority, King Vaher wasn't known to be a particularly rude; or even angry, Monarch. Yet, this blatant display of contemptuousness seemed to contrast with his character almost perfectly.

Although Law had an inclination as to the answer, she meekly bowed her head a degree lower before humbly raising it once again in reply. "I do not, your Majesty."

For, of the 48 Laws of Power, the first was the most important.

"Intelligence." The King proclaimed. Allowing a private smile to erupt in Law's mind before he continued. "While; at the top of their respective ladders, the Four Empires are at peace with one another,the same cannot be said for their subsidiary nations." King Vaher paused to begin pacing about the back of his throne. "Much like the various countries within my own kingdom," He said. "Each civilization, in every Empire, experiences their own type of strife and prosperity; triumphs and shortcomings, that may drive them to one day invade another's habitat. Each of those small nations can single-handedly bring about an interplanetary war to an otherwise peaceful Empire. And of them all, the individual Powers of Gale represents the largest potential threat to the Saturnian Empire. And yet." He stepped forth, pacing around his throne to descend a single of the three steps to Law's point of focus with his voice descending in tune. Dropping into a low, authoritative growl. "You thought it wise to leave the treasured spear, Vel, in the hands of some of some Galilean Pawn."

"Lord Paladin!" Law snapped upward with a salute, for she was no longer addressing her King, but the Imperial Paladin, Ulric Vaher. "May I explain myself?" Law pleaded.

"You may not." The Paladin gently snapped with a cold sneer. "Nein explanation or excuse will pardon you for misplacing Imperial property, Field Marshal. You will depart to Gale at once to retrieve your weapon and return to me, Vel in hand, within eight weeks of today to be punished accordingly for your violations. If you fail." He paused, undoubtedly to scowl at the chestnut crown of Law's head before continuing. "You'll find yourself on Titan, kneeling before Her Imperial Majesty with your implants and rank stripped."

"Yes, Lord Paladin!" Law purposefully readjusted her salute, surprisingly unburdened from the threat she'd just received. "Astros will be sought after the moment I land. You have my word, Lord Paladin."

Law was more than aware that it would only be a matter of time until Lord Paladin Vaher would come to know of her actions. Him being her Monarch in addition to his position only expedited the inevitable exposure of the truth. That fact had been acknowledged by Law ever since the decision had first been made. Of course, it would ruin her prospects of a promotion and, worse case scenario, ruin her career altogether. Yet, even after exposure and receiving the first of many sentences, her overall plan had remained the same.

Backdoor or not, she'd return to Gale and challenge the Astros once again. And after some time, hopefully bring about great change to the ranks of all Saturnians.

Instead of anxiety, Law only felt confidence. Assurance ,in that fact that the King would come to commend her for her actions in due time. Yet, neither that nor the prospects of a higher status were what fueled her actions. She only cared of the increased efficiency of her subordinates and making the most of the otherwise wasted opportunity afforded by their tours.

"Astros, you said?" King Vaher asked in his authoritative monotone after returning to rear of his throne.

"Yes, my King." Law softly replied after stepping back once more into a kneel.

"As in, Villan Astros?" He asked with a notable hint of detest.

"Jordan, your Majesty." Quinn respectfully corrected. "Officially introduced as the twenty-seventh child of the Clan."

"Twenty-seven." The King almost inaudibly groaned to himself before he began pacing again, yet the disgust in his voice stayed as clear as spinning rotors in Law's ears. He turned to face his back towards Law, allowing the shined scalp of his head to divinely sparkle in the otherwise dim room as his head subtly shook from side to side. "And now he's in Dione, making more."

Despite her placid gaze, Law recoiled in shock within the furthest recesses of her mind. 'Villan? In the Lei Kingdom?'

It was no surprise seeing the King's attitude towards the former Maritan. During the infamous interplanetary summit at the beginning of the century when the four empire's officially recognized each other as independent, planetary nations, Astros had accompanied the Chieftain of the Powers; Amory, just as King Vaher accompanied her Imperial Majesty. As a result of the two new rulers having some type of still untold prior history, a majority of the summit was filled with a display of bickering and arrogance that'd been broadcasted for the entirety of the System to witness.

An event that, even as a child, made Law's blood boil. Brought her into a blind rage as she saw their chieftain address her Empress in the same way one would a vagrant. And like many Saturnian's, the silent, cold and calculating gaze of Villan Astros remained stamped in her memory, behind the crude, mocking smile of Bartholomew Amory.

Apparently finished with parsing through his own thoughts, King Vaher turned his attention back to Law; still kneeling in place, before slowly stiffening into a salute. "You're dismissed."

After standing to attention to return the gesture, Law lowered her hand before bending slightly at the neck into a bow, before beginning to backpedal towards the door. Turning to face it, only after the King's own back had first turned.

Pausing behind the threshold, Law couldn't help but envision the potential outcome of her failing. To imagine the disappointment of prying Vel from the Galilean's cold, metal hands, post mortem, of him not not rising to her challenge, of her accomplishing the mission given to her, but failing to complete the task given by herself.

Or worst of all, not seeing him at all.

'I pray upon Arxis that you don't disappoint me. Jordan Astros.'

Stepping through the waiting hall once again, Law motioned to her ghost in the corner before leading towards the door. After only a few paces, the clanking, cold footsteps of the robot trailed up to her rear, where she felt the radiative heat of its body falling onto her back as it fell into a synchronized step.

After following the maze of corridors and stairs and emerging outside, Law stopped a few paces from the door to gaze about the expansive territories of King Vaher's Gate, Rexia. The King's true throne room sat under a modestly small hut at the center the Chamber of Guilds, the headquarters for all knights operating within King Vaher's territory. An expansive, unwalled complex that sat on a steep, triangular plateau, topped with wide cobblestone roads and a multitude of squat, square, castle keep-like buildings that permitted a modest view of the dense cluster of mortar and stone that peering above the forested landscapes on the horizon from any position.

How peaceful it was, when compared to the Gate of Sylas Dieujuste.

Having taken enough time to admire her surroundings, Law turned to her right, Where Saturn and all of her magnificence sat some five-hundred-thousand kilometers past the towering, mountainesque walls that, along with the spin of their habitat, held in their relatively thin atmosphere without the aid of a ceiling. The beige world and expansive rings occupied almost the entirety of the black sky, from the edge of the horizon, to the faint strip of blue ribbon that split the sky in two, looming high above.

Being, at minimum, one-thousand kilometers in diameter and five-hundred in width, each of the hundreds of Bishop Rings- Gates, as they were called in Saturnia, held enough surface area to rival a modestly large country on Earth, and were filled with rivers, shallow oceans and an assortment of biomes, flora and fauna up to a point that essentially made each of the habitats into their own miniature worlds.

Worlds that were to be turned by the meddlings and whims of their Nobles and Monarchs.

Law hadn't even made it ten paces when a young looking knight appeared from seemingly nowhere and halted by her side, her hand ridgid against her brow in a salute. The indirect lighting that casted from nearly every path and building and the curiously bright star-like sun to her back, casted dull, long shadows across her face that blended with her already darkened skin into a shadowy, unrecognizable mass. Forcing Law to instead focus on the small, bushy tailed, pointy-eared mammal embroidered onto the heart of the young knight's undersuit as she passed.

"As you were, Commander Blouse." Law sighed after returning the salute.

"The Field Marshal seems distressed." The Commander cheekily commented, almost to herself, as she fell into line behind and to the left of Law. "I presume your meeting with His Majesty went as you assumed it would?" She asked in a more direct tone a moment after.

"It's just strange, seeing a knight without their ghost." Law amiably chuckled. "Even stranger seeing a fox outside of their hole." She laughed again before falling silent for a few strides to studiously gaze upon the young commander through her peripherals . "I'll be returning to Gale at once." She eventually sighed. "In the interim, you will be Field Marshal. Have one of your Captains fulfill your role until my return. Silva should be a good fit." Law returned here eyes forward, nodding to herself. "The greenhorn could use some experience."

Studying Commander Blouse once more, it was clear to Law that the young knight felt some form of reluctance in taking the position- The subtle slowing of her pace, wandering of the head, the sudden loss of cheekiness. All telltale signs of her objection.

Yet, as expected, Commander Blouse slowly lifted her head after a few moments to turned her steel-colored eyes into the light; into that of Law's, before she snapped out a diligent salute. "As you command, Field Marshal. So it shall be."

***

Squatting on a crate, inside one of many hangars, deep below the mountains that served as the air-keeping walls of their habitat, Quinn Law methodically scanned the array disassembled, cleansed and stripped components organized at her feet. From the etched chestplate of her armor, to the both of her ghosts, her eyes periodically hovered over each individual piece of equipment so that they could be assessed for any missed scuffs or blotches of filth.

Only once satisfied, did Law begin fitting the pieces back together and start loading them onto her G2. The second Ghost model: A headless, mule-like robot that stood around half her height. Efficiently and elegantly lined around the entire bulk of its body with environmentally controlled storage chutes and cupboards, mounting racks, hard points and even a seat.

As always, Law loaded her field provisions and emergency equipment first. Followed by her tools, field equipment, clothes and personal belongings. Then, her armor. Piece-by-piece on a specifically designed mount behind her saddle.

Then, after reaching to her side only to claw at air, Law felt a deep cavern open from within her heart as she turned to see her weapon missing from its designated place.

With a weary sigh, she double checked the security of her loadout before tapping her G2 gently on its ass, prompting the bulky bot to quickly begin trotting through the terminal and into her skiff's cargo bay.

After staring emptily at the robot trotting away for a few seconds, Law started after it and eventually passed it just as it diverted down an adjacent hall. Continuing straight up the ramp, Law passed through the airlock and after cycling, emerged in the main salon of her skiff. Without delay, she felt the heat of her ghost disappear from he back as it waltzed over to secure itself in its mount off to the side.

Law paced across the room, shifting around the plush furniture and rounded coffee tables arranged in every orientation as she made her way to the the vector chair in the center of the room. After coming to a rest in the seat and taking a moment for the dual joysticks to unfurl from the armrest, Law turned the seat about in place to survey her surroundings as she ship prepared for launch.

Shrouded in a soft ambiance of warm light, the space was decorated with cream toned, rounded furnishings that contrasted nicely against the dark gray, padded textures that lined each cardinal surface. A small bar sat to her left, filled with bottles locked tightly inside cooling units and surrounded by padded bar stools and rails lined along the front and above respectively. The ship's name, Löwin, was written into the walls with backlit, carved wood that was inlaid into the walls. And inlaid again on the opposing side behind and above a large, L-shaped settee that faced a protected screen that was larger than Law's wingspan. To her front sat the airlocks antechamber and her Ghost, securely slumped into it wall mount, directly opposing the array of screens and switches that lined the small, rounded alcove to her back.

With sleeping quarters for four on the deck above and massive engineering and cargo modules below, the small interplanetary skiff, Lowin, was all Law would ever need to cross the void in comfort.

"Plot a course for Ganymede." Law ordered, turning to face the array of controls after feeling the first of many thumps and quakes looming through the crafts.

After a few moments of the clangs and hums ringing and pitching up to volume, a sudden quake rang through the vessel, before a surge of vertigo was induced on her body. Law suddenly felt herself falling, rapidly, through the cavernous shafts that stretched through the thick base of the Gate until the craft neared the bottom, where she felt herself gently slow to a halt before the craft began churning beneath her. Inverting itself and everything inside of it from the steady pull of the spin induced gravity. Just as the blood pooling in her face began to heavily sag, Law felt herself falling once again, if only momentarily, as the craft was settled on the external skin of the Gate before lunging to an abrupt halt.

In those moments, Law could only imagine herself, holding on tightly to the outer edges of a wildly revolving carousel. Waiting until the perfect moment to release, and fling her towards her target.

A loud gong-like ringing abruptly quaked through the craft as they were released from the outer shell of the Gate, launching them tangentially into the void at a rate of just over 2.2 kilometers per second relative to the habitat, and thus ripping Law from her daydreams just as the oppressing pull of gravity was stripped from her body.

She remained silent for the next few minutes, soaking in the relaxing sensation of weightlessness as she formulated a timetable for the next eight weeks.

During her last tour, transit and migrating through customs took approximately two weeks. As would reversing such processes for her egress from Gale, surely. Leaving only four weeks for her to settle her dispute and return to Saturnia. However, if her plans were to come to fruition, she'd need at least two more duels with the Galilean before she'd feel as if she'd accomplished her ploy.

Nodding to herself as to affirm her estimates, Law turned to the nearest screen and activated the mirror function to begin composing a message.

"Dear, cub. I hope that you have not only heeded my recommendations regarding training, but have taken great care of Vel, as well. As stated, I am now departing from the Empire for another campaign tour on Ganymede. In two weeks time, I'll have been sent through customs. At which point you will rendezvous with me in the Keeper's Zone to return to me my weapon. Do not disappoint me." She finished with an authoritative growl before ending the recording and immediately replaying it in her optical scanners, internally cringing against the sound of her voice as she listened through to the end.

Once verifying all was in order, she rotated her chair about and sent the message to her ghost to be encrypted and subsequently relayed through the ship to be shot across the void to Jupiter.

As if they were waiting politely, the skiff's main drives ignited just after the file finished transmitting, pulling Law deeper and deeper into her vector chair as the craft pushed itself through the void.