HOMECOMING

Krol stood at the edge of the balcony, staring out over the sprawling, jagged-roofed city of Cizaroth. His father hadn't said much to him beyond his initial greeting. After the King dispatched Des, Krol's binds were removed, and Kristiel had received payment for returning him. She had winked at Krol, saying it was her pleasure. His skin still crawled. (Hopefully I never have the pleasure of meeting her again.)

It was then a knock came at the door to his balcony. He turned, and there stood a tall, well-toned Scrapster woman with light gray skin that he instantly recognized as his father's vizier, Urteh. Her lips were perpetually drawn into a tight line, her hair pulled into a high bun. In his thirty years of living, Krol couldn't remember her donning any different styles, or changing anything else about her, for that matter. "Urteh. It's good to see you."

She nodded. "Word has it that you have mingled with criminals?"

(A simple "Good to see you, too!" would be nice.)

He cleared his throat. "If you're referring to my sister and her friends, then, yes, I'm guilty as charged. I'll have you know, however, that the company you entrusted me to was far worse."

Urteh stepped slowly toward him, her gaze never quite meeting his. "An unfortunate lapse of judgment, I'm afraid. But we needed an eye on Coalwatch to ensure Des's Scrapster-killing metal didn't make its way into the hands of our enemies. I hope you can forgive me."

Krol huffed a sigh. "I've put it behind me. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She wheeled on him, getting in his face. A cloying perfume punched him in the nose as her eyes searched his own. While Krol had never been a warrior, he had heard stories of the fabled General Urteh, and her legions of Scrapster troops that had spread fear throughout the galaxies. While she had never been warm to him or his sister in his childhood, she had never turned this degree of intimidation on him like a dagger. A lump formed in his throat as he staggered back.

Urteh harrumphed. "I will make myself clear," she said. "Your father is growing soft in his old age."

Krol raised a brow. "Soft?" He could still feel Des's blood as it rained on his face. Goosebumps rose along his shoulders as he thought of the callous look in his father's eyes. "You call that display 'soft'?"

Urteh sneered. "If that had been the old King, the one who had conquered half the universe in his youth, then Des would never have tried to raise her hand against him. Your father no longer acts. He only reacts."

"Okay? And? Why come to me?"

"The Scrapsters need a new leader. Someone who hasn't lost their edge. Someone who can restore Scrapstar and its people to their former glory."

Krol took a few steps back, leaning against the railing. "I'm not leadership material. Isn't that what you always told my father? That's why Rivra would marry someone you and father deemed worthy to produce the next king."

"Yes, well…What is it you used to say? People can change? Things must change?"

She draped herself over Krol, nestling her chin in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His lower back muscles tensed as he felt her lean, toned body pressed against him.

She swirled a finger on his chest, drawing invisible circles as she breathed on his neck. "You could be a leader. With my guidance, you could help restore Scrapster to its former glory."

Krol shuddered and pulled away from her. His eyes and nose squished down into a deep scowl as he fixed her with a cold stare. "I will never be king. And I'm okay with that. Besides, Scrapstar is becoming a booming economy thanks to our engineers and manufacturers. We don't need to be a bunch of slobbering barbarians anymore."

There was a thunderclap as Urteh's hand lashed out and struck him backhanded across his cheek. He stumbled back wordlessly, holding a hand to his face that radiated stinging pain. Urteh's face had grown dark and withdrawn, her lips tightened into that same, disappointed line to which he was accustomed. "I was hoping dealing with that scoundrel Des would toughen you up. Make you more suitable to lead. Hmph. You talk of change, Krol. Yet I can see that you haven't grown from that scared little brat I helped raise."

Krol clenched his fists, preparing to say something in protest, when he froze. He pointed a finger up to the sky, his eyes growing wide. "L-look!"

She cocked a brow at him, thinking he was attempting the oldest trick in the book, and opened her mouth to scold him further, before her ears caught a high-pitched shriek of engines, quickly growing louder. She spun around and saw it: a rose-pink colored spaceship accelerating toward the palace, several feet of armor paneling peeled off like the skin of a potato, dangling and sparking against its own hull. Urteh's eyes widened and she slapped a device on her wrist. "We have an unidentified ship heading for the palace! Raise the shields! Alert the King!"

Krol gripped the balcony rail as he squinted his eyes. The longer he looked, he figured out the ship wouldn't crash directly into the palace. Pulling off some quick calculations in his head, Krol drew his finger across the skyline, his eyes lighting up as he determined the Herald's most likely crash site. Without waiting for Urteh's permission, he turned and dashed off. He heard his father's vizier call after him, demanding to know where he was going, but he had no other choice.

He needed to reach his friends before anyone else did.

***

While Milo was successful at boosting the Herald's speed, he wouldn't be so lucky in trying to slow their descent. Alarms blared and the rattling of what he presumed to be a loose panel on the ship's exterior mixed together in a cacophonic symphony that made him question even trusting his instinct to attempt his stupid idea. He had no idea how much power he even pumped into the ship, only that he had pushed out of them whatever he had envisioned in his head. And now, they were soaring above jagged-looking buildings divided by streets that looked like white veins down below. The ship trembled more and more, and he feared the ship might rattle apart.

Rivra gripped Milo's seat, gritting her teeth as she stood over him. "We have to slow down!"

"H-how?!"

"Faith won't be able to just shut off the thrusters as they are. You'll have to pull the power out!"

"I can…do that?"

"I don't know! But if you can push the Captain's power into the ship like she can, then you should be able to take it back!"

The ship jerked, and Rivra stumbled forward, her chest pressing against the back of Milo's head. He wrenched his eyes shut, doing his best to ignore the squishy sensation to his back. He jammed his hand into the metal cylinder again, and this time he focused on trying to draw the energy back into his hand. In the headspace, surrounded by white walls, he envisioned the energy as a scattering of fireflies, buzzing around his head and feet. Slowly, one by one, the fireflies darted toward his hand, sticking to it as if they were stuck to a glue trap. After the first dozen landed, the rest came in droves, and he could feel a build-up of electricity in his fingers. When all the fireflies were accounted for, he clenched his fist, swallowing the ball of energy into his wrist, into the gem of power.

A new, lower-pitched alarm groaned to life, and on the monitor displaying statistics for the ship's thrusters, Milo watched as their power plummeted, quickly hitting zero percent.

"Thrusters have failed," Faith's voice said over the intercom. "You all should evacuate to the lab immediately."

Rivra wasted no time plucking Milo from his chair and tucking him under her arm like a football. She sprinted out of the control deck, encountering Tereine and Albany in the main hall. "Hurry!" she shouted. "We don't have much time!"

The four of them made their way down the stairs that led to Faith's lab, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a heavy, acrid smoke had begun to fill the hallway, and Rivra cursed. Milo looked up at her.

"What is it?"

She didn't reply, only stopped and turned back to Tereine and Albany. "You two, let me carry you!"

"Oi, what do you mean?" Tereine said.

The ground quaked, sending Tereine and Albany onto their asses while Rivra planted her feet to remain upright. Shouting at her crewmates, Rivra extending her left arm for them both to grab on, and they did. She dashed toward the lab. As she did, a wall of flames lit up the far end of the hall. Milo's eyes grew wide as he watched the explosion funnel its way down the tight corridor toward them, the heat on his face growing more and more intense as Rivra ran to meet it in the middle.

As they approached the lab door, it opened for them, Faith standing at the ready to close the door. "Hurry!" she said.

Rivra hugged her friends to her and ducked into the lab's entryway, the flames only a few feet ahead of her. Just as Rivra's massive frame passed through the doorway, Faith slammed the button, and the door hissed shut, the flames sizzling against the door's energy shield as the wall of fire shot down the hall.

"Quickly, find something to hold on to," Faith said. "It will not be long before impact."

Rivra set down Tereine and Albany, keeping Milo tucked close to her like a safety blanket.

The room jerked like a car banking off a curb, launching everyone into the air. Rivra clutched Milo to her, slamming into the lab floor with a shout. Lights flickered on and off around the room. The cries of dying machinery surrounded them as everyone rolled and groaned.

Milo had been tucked against Rivra's stomach, his head safely held between her breasts. He let out a muffled cry, and Rivra shook her head. "Sorry! It was either that or let your head smash open like an egg!"

The ship continued to tremble and quake for only a few more moments, before it jerked, and then, finally, stopped. The alarms sounded weak, like the mewling of starved cats rather than red alerts. Tereine and Albany finally sat up. In a panic, Albany reached up and grasped at her horn, and released a deep sigh as she found it was still intact. Tereine rubbed her plump rear, a pained moan escaping her. "Oi, I think I busted my trunk…"

Only Faith stood standing, her eyes flickering over several screens floating in front of her. Her eyes were widened, and Milo thought she almost looked…panicked? Something he had never seen on her face before. Her lips moved at such an intense speed, muttering something under her breath that sounded like static. Rivra sat up, letting Milo slide off of her chest and into her lap. "Faith? Are you okay?"

Faith froze, and after a moment, she turned to Rivra. "I am fine. My calculations show that none of the ship's vital power sources have been harmed. As long as that is the case, then I will be fine." She clicked a few keys on her screen. "The fire dispersal system is still operational. I will extinguish the flames in the hall, and you should be able to get out and survey the damage. With this, I am afraid we have lost the element of surprise."

Rivra shook her head. "I'm just glad everyone's okay. Anyway, I wasn't coming here to just sneak in and save Lucianna." She pushed herself up from the floor, standing tall as she strode over toward the lab door.

"Rescuing the Captain is our main objective," Faith retorted. "What other goal do you have?"

"Oh, I plan on saving the Captain. But there's only one way I can do that and make sure this never happens again."

She pushed the button, and the lab doors whooshed open, and Milo chased after her as she disappeared down the hall.

***

Krol's jaw dropped as he watched as the fireball that used to be the Herald smash into the ground just northeast of the castle. His lungs and sides burned as he sprinted toward the wreckage, following the large trench dug up by the ship skidding along until finally embedding itself into a particularly soft plot of land. He could taste the grease and smoke, coating his tongue with terror and fear for his friends as he closed on the wreckage.

Not far behind him, he could her the clamor and shouts of approaching troops. He pushed his quivering leg muscles to finish carrying him to the burning wreck.

The landing ramp had been completely destroyed, melted by the heat and sealed shut by the crash, so Krol circled around to the side, wondering where he an entrance might be so he could find his friends. If they were even still alive, that was. Eventually, he came upon a peeled off section of outer armor, and underneath was a breach so large he was surprised the ship hadn't exploded. From the scorch marks rimming the entrance, he could tell there had been an explosion, and he peeked inside the hole to see a wall of flames. He stepped toward the hole, but flames belched out and licked at him, and with a gasp he stumbled back, hissing as the heat scorched his skin. (My skin may be tough, but that doesn't make me immune to fire!)

The trampling of footsteps grew louder, and Krol figured it would only be a few minutes before his father's men arrived. But what could he do? He bared his teeth at the flames, as if trying to intimidate the fire itself. "Rivra! Milo! Are any of you in there?"

There was a howling noise, and Krol's eyes widened. Could they be burning alive right now, inside the ship? Panicked, he looked around for something, anything to help him extinguish the fire. In a desperate attempt, he grabbed at some of the upturned soil and started tossing it onto the flames. As he shoveled his fourth handful of dirt onto the ever-growing flames, there was another high-pitched howl, and a tremendous force slammed into Krol, flinging him backward and onto his back. Stars swam in his eyes as he slowly sat up, rubbing his head. When his vision finally cleared, his jaw dropped.

Rivra emerged from the breach, Milo directly behind her. At her name, she lifted her head in Krol's direction. Her mouth flopping open, she dashed and closed the distance, wrapping her brother in a tight hug. "Thank Cizaroth, Krol! You're okay!"

"Hey! That's my line!" His eyes trailed down to Milo, who, for some reason, looked to be standing bit taller than before. He titled his head, fixing Milo with a smile. "And I'm glad to see you're well, Milo!"

"Same to you, big guy." Milo looked around at the buildings towering over them, their roofs leaning in as if they were eavesdropping on their conversation. "So, this is Scrapstar? It's…interesting."

Rivra helped Krol to his feet. "I'll have to show you around! Cizaroth is a beautiful city, filled with many wonders!"

Rivra cleared her throat. "That'll have to wait, for now. Isn't that right, father?"

Milo and Krol froze as the army of soldiers appeared from around the ship. And through the mass of giant, grey and green-skinned warriors, one huge, towering behemoth strode toward them. Steam puffed from his nostrils as he exhaled, and his eyes settled on the scene before him. All of his soldiers froze, daring not to stand in between him and his targets. His eyes slowly traced a line from Milo, to Krol, before finally landing on Rivra.

For a moment, no one moved. The only sounds to be heard were the clanging of armor and the sparks from the damaged Herald.

The King of the Scrapster took a deep, shuddering breath, and tears streamed down his face. He rushed up to her, and Milo ducked out of the way, preparing for a fight, but instead his jaw flopped open as the King trapped Rivra in a massive bear hug.

"Rivra, my daughter…you have finally returned."