XVI. Bluffing

Two feet in front of the large oak door before her, she took one steady breath through her nose and a glance on her gold pocket watch for a check of the time before she could enter the room. Punctual to attend to her engagements she always tried to be regardless of what ever obstruction might get in her way to it.

Amelia stuffed the trinket in her pocket once more and pushed the heavy door into the Grand Navy Council's assembly hall. An emergency meeting had been scheduled to take place that Sunday morning as indicated in one of the paperwork she received about two weeks ago, a letter that specified she be invited for a certain interrogation about a certain recent voyage.

She passed through rows and rows of wooden benches to approach the seat number indicated in her invite and settled herself in before her cat-like eyes could wander around the room full of other Royal Navy personnel called in to attend, likewise settled in their own designated seats and waiting for the councilmembers to arrive and for the conference to begin. In her mind, she was thankful that it was only an emergency meeting since she knew that the High Admiral didn't usually come in for any of those.

He was, however, always present for assemblies which were of utmost priority to the Navy and was the man ever so serious with performing his duties in all of them, given that he has the most significant role in making the council's overall decision. That meant if the circumstances were different, and Amelia's interrogation happened to be in the high official's checklist, there was no doubt that she would've been probed and scolded silly for the reckless driving that reflected from the Legacy's damages. That credit should go to her husband, however, since the inexperienced spacer was the one who had to take over the helm in her place on their way back to the spaceport.

Suddenly, the right-hand door at the very front of the room creaked open and a figure from one of the councilmembers could be seen. The hall conductor then took this as his signal, stood up straight from his tribune and announced their arrival to the crowd.

"Everyone, please stand for the Royal Navy Grand Council," cut his voice through their murmurs.

Amelia, along with everybody else, rose from their seats as three familiar gents and one familiar lady, all garbed in their red high-rank uniforms, appeared before the crowd as they marched in a straight line on the podium, to a matching set of five wooden armchairs intended for them. As expected, the center seat was vacant for the day's assembly, meaning the High Admiral wouldn't be joining them for now.

Once the four had been seated, the conductor ushered everyone else to settle down and announced once more. "This Grand Council meeting, convened on this day by the Royal Navy under the rule of Queen Illysa II, is now officially in session. On behalf of High Admiral Samuel Frost, Admiral Chief Joan Cosmos will be preceding this assembly and hereafter given the jurisdiction to authorize the council's official statement in his place," he commenced, addressing the sole female seated at the right hand side of her superior officer's seat.

Taking over the man's position for the meantime, Admiral Cosmos gave the conductor a small nod of acknowledgement before digging her hands into the dirt. "Let me start by first calling on Lieutenant Winchester for his report regarding the council's resolution from the previous meeting, as well as what progress had been made to it."

"Certainly, Admiral Cosmos," the officer responded before running his eyes through the document he held in his hand. "Concerning the council's attempt for negotiating a ceasefire with the Procyon fleet occupying the border of Southwest Terran territory, Rear Admiral Edgar Jacoby recently filed in a report which states that the alien fleet was willing to comply as long as ceasefire is mutually maintained in both parties.

"According to his report, he and his squadron took advantage of this and proceeded to the Royal Armada's initial objective of proposing a treaty with the Procyon Expanse. He bears good news that the opposite force has decided to appeal to the Procyon Brood Consul the official promotion of this ceasefire into an ultimate peace agreement with the Terran Empire." Relieved and satisfied reactions from the audience filled the hallway, and the lieutenant concluded. "Lastly, initial plans of peace talks between the Procyon Consul and the Terran Parliament will be discussed in the official meeting which is set to take place about a week and three days from now."

Contented, the lead councilwoman with the big woven hair laced her fingers in thought and rested her chin on them with a huff of air. "Very well. Anything else you might want to add that is outside of your report?"

"No, Admiral Cosmos. Nothing else follows," answered Lieutenant Winchester as he flipped his record book open.

"Well then, let us now move on to tackling today's meeting, an emergency at that, starting with a review of its objectives."

"Certainly, ma'am." On the page, the officer read. "Emergency convocation serial number 1081, summoned by Admiral Chief Richard Blake at the request of Rear Admiral Trevor Honest of Port Mont-Foley. The primary objective of this assembly is to conduct an open discussion regarding a particular item, currently under ownership of Captain Terrence Hatford and his First Officer Jonathan Daniel Ambrose, which is speculated to contain some sort of value that may interest Her Majesty's Royal Navy."

Richard Blake, the man seated at the council's leftmost armchair, scanned the room in search of the two item handlers and the requestor's attendance, locating them at the front most row among the right side benches.

Soft murmurs about the topic could be heard throughout the hall as the officer proceeded to the next line of his notes. "The secondary objective of which is an inquiry regarding the damages sustained by Royal Lightship Legacy during a voyage under the management of Captain Amelia Smollett-Doppler."

Admiral Cosmos then raised her hand and gestured for her subordinate to be seated. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Smollett and the Legacy, eh?" spoke a man to the opposite left of her seat, mentioning the feline officer with the name her superiors had been used to referring her with. "I remember when she came back to the spaceport with the ship in tow, downtrodden and a near wreck judging from the missing starboard wing and a broken-off mast that crushed the only laser cannon it was equipped with."

"Not to mention the debris-riddled solar sails," agreed Admiral Blake. "But I probably should not count that in, considering it was the product of a supernova storm as how Smollett stated it in her debriefing."

"But if the debriefing has already been done before, isn't this issue already resolved?" questioned Admiral Cosmos in skepticism. "If I recall, we already had Captain Smollett called in months ago to file and report this particular voyage to us."

The grey-skinned councilman to her right agreed. "Indeed. We have already ruled that she be acquitted of the Legacy's damages due to the nature of the circumstances that befell upon the ship. Not to mention the loss of her first officer Mr. Arrow as a result, although I must say that most of it was because of an unintentional error on the voyage financier's end."

"First Officer Arrow was a great man," reminisced the man at the opposite left. "But he was also among the humblest people I've ever met. He was supposed to be Smollett's superior, you know. A mentor of sorts. He even held a rank in the admiralty yet he chose to be by her side, working under her governance as a first officer since he claimed to have seen 'great potential' in her like how he said it."

The grey admiral defended. "Still, the man's sacrifice was not in vain for being of honorable service to her. No one should be considered at fault in this in any way."

"I would say so, too, Admiral Bluedwarf." She tilted her head to throw a glance to the leftmost councilmember. "Admiral Blake, you're the one who summoned for this meeting and I'm certain Admiral Honest has already directed you with what this assembly should be all about. Am I right?"

"Yes, Admiral Cosmos. He has, as you said, already directed me with the scope of this meeting."

"Then why the need to once again bring up Captain Smollett's affairs, and into this convocation nonetheless?"

"Because of her expertise."

"Her expertise?"

"Yes, from the latest voyage of the Legacy to be precise," the red-haired admiral answered. "From what Admiral Honest informed me on what we are about to be debriefed with, her experience from that occasion would prove to be very useful if further investigations will be conducted."

She raised an eyebrow at him in bewilderment. "An investigation? Aren't you perhaps getting a bit ahead of yourself?"

"Maybe, but once you hear what he and his associates have to reveal, I'm certain it will have everyone in this very room losing their minds."

The councilwoman let out a frustrated sigh, not exactly a huge fan of strong talk and for being kept in the dark. "Fine, very well. Just so I can have context on what you're referring to, let us now begin with the conference. The floor is all yours, Admiral Blake."

"Thank you, Admiral Cosmos," he replied with a nod. "Admiral Honest, please do the honors."

"As you wish, sir," promptly saluted the inferior officer as he placed on the exhibit long table what seemed to be a small box underneath a sheet of white cloth which covered its entirety. "I have here in my possession the subject of this conference, its discovery made by Captain Hatford and his first officer on planet Galatea with coordinates one-three-four-four."

His hand pulled on the sheet and tugging it away revealed a wooden chest held together by black metal lining. He opened the latch, swinging the chest's lid back, and took out what seemed to be a spherical gold artifact, holding it out in the air for the council's audience to see. Fascinated looks appeared on their faces and immediately, so many questions were already bubbling in their heads.

All but one was as engrossed as they were when her eyes landed on the object in their midst. It was none other than Amelia who easily recognized what in actuality it was, a holographic map to Flint's trove or what was known to be the loot of a thousand worlds, and had to contain herself from any stand-out reactions that could give rise to everyone's suspicions. She wouldn't dare draw that kind of attention to herself, but the uninhibited paling of her skin made her look like she had just saw a ghost, and indeed it was the ghost of a voyage from not too long ago. She was thankful enough that the audience had been utterly distracted by the mysterious sphere, barely taking their eyes off it to even notice her.

Admiral Honest then placed the object back in its compartment. "The item in question is spherical in shape, covered in patterns consisting of lines and circlets. It's already been cleaned up but before, it had traces of dirt and ash which reached far into a few of its dents. I have already consulted with my colleagues in the research area to further inspect the item, and I would like to call on them to share their findings with the rest of this meeting's participants."

"Dr. Mitchell Langley, licensed astrochemist and mineralogist. And this is my trusted associate, assistant researcher Prof. Anna Bertram," introduced the two delegates as they went right into their report. "In the research process our team conducted, we had the item undergo a series of tests in order to accurately determine its physical make-up."

His companion flipped open the folder she held in her arm and informed them. "It is a metallic sphere with a diameter of about twelve centimeters and a net weight of approximately three-hundred and fifty grams with a surprisingly loose density, perhaps due to the movable nature of its surface plates. The plates got their hue from the bronzium alloy material the sphere is made up of which also explains for its impeccable sheen, save for some dents which had traces of dirt that were scraped off them prior to this meeting."

The older scientist continued from where she left off. "Then that brings the question of how this item could have ended up that way. I've consulted with the archaeology department to get some insight on the item through their archives, but we are all astonished to find out that there has never been a record of its existence before, making it the first of its kind to be discovered in this day and age."

"We have top cryptographers flying in to the research facility from all over the nation, upon noting that the sphere's movable plates could be turned and pieced together like puzzle pieces," the assistant researcher included. "They collaborated with our junior facility to decipher the item, but none of our efforts have succeeded so far."

"So needless to say, the item is still questionable in terms of what its true purpose could be," hypothesized Admiral Honest, summarizing what his colleague stated from his team's research. "However, I would like Captain Terrence Hatford to share with us the rest of the report which may help shed some light into this matter."

"Thank you, Admiral, sir," he replied as he stood up from his seat and his hand smoothed back a portion of his golden brown hair. "The reason why I decided to present the item to the council is a rather interesting tale. I discovered it in the planet Galatea when I met with an informant of mine, a fisherman named Ruel Wiggins from the Isles of Tulle, and he brought the item to my attention. He told me something about it that sounded very important."

Mixed reactions filled the assembly hall, expressions of doubt behind Hatford's informant diffusing with expressions of intrigue behind the sphere's existence. "Your informant is a fisherman from the outskirts of Terran territory?" asked someone from the benches in skepticism.

Just when Hatford was about to answer them, Admiral Honest had hushed the audience. "I'm sorry, but please hold all questions until the end." He then turned to the young interrupted officer. "Captain, please continue."

"Thank you, sir. At first, he asked me about my knowledge of the explosion that took place adjacent to Spaceport Cresentia..."

The inquirer's eyes widened in surprise, about how a fisherman native to some far-flung location could've been aware of the event. As far as the whole Royal Navy knew, the detonation only happened within Terran territory, around the spaceport to be exact, hence it was uncanny that word of it would reach the outskirts of the empire. Unless of course ruling the possibility that the talebearer was around the area when it happened, slipping into Terran territory under the Navy's nose.

That would prove to be quite a problem, knowing that there had been a breach of security regardless of how insignificant a threat it might pose to the empire's inhabitants.

"... and then he told me that an explosion likewise occurred at the edge of the galaxy. You might think that it had nothing to do with the one that we witnessed, but there is evidence that proved otherwise."

Assisting him with his testimony, his superior officer spoke. "I had my research colleagues do an analysis on the debris spotted coming toward the spaceport, as well as samples that Captain Hatford collected from the outer explosion's witnesses, the residents of the Isles."

"Three separate samples were collected and analyzed," the young research assistant affirmed. "One contains the spaceport debris, the other is the debris from the Isles of Tulle, and last is the ash specimen scraped off of the item. Substance analysis indicate fire damage on all three cases, judging from the results that showed their physical and overall chemical composition, or decomposition rather."

Dr. Langley further informed from what they discovered in their study. "And what is surprising from all this is we found out that the nature of the very fire damages these three specimen originated from is the exact same explosion."

A doubtful officer spoke lowly from his seat. "It might've been a coincidence."

"I'm afraid that is not the case, my good sir," the doctor grinned at him like a proud scientist expositing his work. "Apparently, all three samples are found to similarly contain a pyrolytic mixture of carbon material and another chemical component, which are traces of gold alloy primarily used in making gold coins and drabloons."

The crowd was now more astonished than ever, and their whispers were getting louder by the minute with every new information presented to them.

"It seems we're now seeing from an angle that the samples came from a detonation involving a whole lot of gold, unless of course there's this enterprise that has been blowing them up behind our backs this whole time," supposed Admiral Honest in false intimidation, mostly just to shaken up the audience. "But I think it is now logical to take into mind that the blast near Cresentia and the one around the outskirts are one and the same."

For months, the Royal Navy had been trying to solve what was claimed to be the greatest mystery to ever befall the Terran Empire: the explosion that disappeared as soon as its aftershocks hit Spaceport Cresentia. Various rumors about it had spread far and wide, even so far as to suspect that it was some sort of a terrorist attack. Her Majesty's Armada had been winded for the longest time investigating the source and trying to piece it all together with what they could get their hands on. Evidence was scarce from an unknown source though, mobilizing them into a continuous search mission that seemed like a never-ending hole.

What was presented to them now was probable evidence that could put an end to their search, their worries and the explosion theories that bothered them at night. However, just when they thought that the work was done, the council now considered themselves utterly unprepared, that the domain of the mission was a lot wider than they thought and the item's apparent discovery has brought them new questions to mull on.

"Thank you," nodded Hatford to the researchers and to the admiral for their supportive notes. "Now, about the gold Dr. Langley told us about. Additionally, I was told by my informant about his fellow fishermen finding treasure of different sorts getting ensnared in their nets. Word is that the detonation caused some person's loot to rain on immediate planets, along with the item in our possession."

Hearing everything the captain and his delegates had said, Amelia's eyes went wide at how close they were to the big picture. Normally before partaking on a voyage, she would file in the full disclosure of her commission and the whole Royal Navy would already know what she's been up to but for the particular trip to Flint's trove, she chose not to.

She knew that letting slip about a commission to a hundred year-old treasure trove (which was the stuff of hundreds of storybooks) would complicate things and would draw a certain kind of attention to herself, and that kind of attention was the least she needed. So she exercised her code of confidentiality, only reported to her superiors that it was a minimal transport mission, mum's the word about the map and the planet it guided them to from then on, and the rest was history. Which was why she was astonished that the young man already knew that much even if it still wasn't official to his superiors, knowing that it all traced to the now-detonated Treasure Planet but hopefully not to her partial involvement in it.

Before he ended his report, the young captain took a deep breath and a quick glance to the small gold sphere. "That is all the information I currently have, from my informant and the witnesses I've surveyed, but I could stop here and move on to answering what questions you may have. I'm sure a lot more will be uncovered that way."

One by one, hands were raising in their midst and the captain was able to call on the first one that caught his eye. "These facts you've mentioned, do these imply that the sphere had something to do with some hidden treasure we are not aware of?" the officer asked him.

Hatford's face lit up in response. "It could be. We are, in fact, considering that an option at the moment."

Another question was raised. "Based from what survived the explosion's magnitude, this hidden treasure no doubt has an estimate of a rather large amount. If that's the case, is it possible that a trail of it still exists around the area of explosion?"

"It's possible, sir. If there were some that reached planets light-years away from it, I'm almost a hundred percent sure that remains can still be found within the perimeter."

Next was a statement, rather than a question, that had been voiced out. "Since we are talking about a blast of considerable magnitude, I have a strong hunch this could be a pirate's handiwork."

"You think a pirate is behind the attack?" interjected a woman from the crowd.

"Yes, but it also might not have been an attack. No casualties were reported when it occurred and furthermore, no one could have that much loot unless they were gathered through less than disreputable means."

A man from the opposite bench protested. "That's just outrageous. I mean what pirate would be crazy enough to rig up something, blow up their own gold and let it go to waste?"

Upon hearing the statement, a half-smirk crept upon Amelia's face. After all, if the notorious Captain Nathaniel Flint could be described with a word, he was definitely nothing but crazy. Even children's storybooks already knew that much about him.

"We are given protocol to not entertain rumors of any form but I will keep that in mind, Commander Bromley. That is quite an interesting theory," assured Admiral Honest to the man and upon noticing a person's persistent hand raising, he called on the hand's owner whom he recognized as the stern West spacecoast captain, Jarvis Wenceslas.

"I will resume with my companion's statement. Your informant, he's a fisherman, correct?" spoke he, seated beside the one who asked the same question earlier. "Then are you saying that the whole reason why this whole assembly is happening is because you believed in a fisherman's story of raining treasure?"

Alarmed by this accusation, Admiral Cosmos interjected. "Captain Wenceslas, are you perhaps doubting the very subject of this meeting?"

Regardless of his superior's question, the man was still berating the young officer. "I'm merely pointing out the whimsicality my ears have picked up from the entire tale. For a Royal Navy captain, I wasn't expecting that Hatford would have the nerve to consult an informant of questionable origin. I presumed he would've been more creative than that," he chastened with a click of his tongue.

"He does have a point," commented the precautious Admiral Bluedwarf. "The Isles of Tulle is located at the outskirts of the Terran Empire, the seedy territory to be precise. We can't exactly assess how credible the informant's account is, knowing that the population in that area are known to be good with fabrications. In plain man's terms, swindlers."

Hatford was quick to speak up on this. "I know, I know that it all sounds fictitious but believe me. I've known my informant for a long time and there was never a single time that he swindled nor had lied to me. At least not with this one."

The third highest officer, Admiral Knapp, decided to cut in and quizzed the lad about this. "And how can you be so confident that what he gave you is authentic information?"

The captain's fingers touched his chin to think of an answer but before anything could come up in his mind, his first officer had already answered for him. "Because the admiral's colleagues won't have the need to look into the sphere if it weren't. If the data that the research team collected is enough to have archaeologists and cryptographers sailing across the Etherium to study it, then how is it not enough to convince our own faction?" was his sharp reply.

Admiral Knapp hummed as he thought, and just found himself nodding his head in approval of First Officer Ambrose's clever defense. 'That makes sense.'

Admiral Bluedwarf still had questions about the item's authenticity. "Well, yes but from an explosion of that magnitude? With its size, it would've been impossible for the sphere or any golden treasure to escape it in one piece."

The research assistant was able to disprove that. "Not all is impossible, sir. You see, when there is enough mass around an explosive surface, chances are that the top-most pile of mass will only be pushed away by the heat and pressure buildup occurring at the very bottom of the pile which is directly exposed to the explosion's core. That was most likely what happened to the treasure or the golden sphere, and how these were able to survive the line of fire."

"Thank you for the supplemental information, Prof. Bertram," acknowledged Ambrose with an appreciative smile and a nod of his head.

Without a word, the young researcher could only nod back with the strange urge to raise the folder halfway up to her cheek. She found herself speechless and blushing furiously at the spacer, his pretty face sending out his utmost thanks got the lass a tad bit distracted.

"In that case, are we expecting treasure to rain on us as well once we've found out where the sphere's source is?" Captain Wenceslas, still visibly disbelieving, remarked in absolute sarcasm. "Or could it be another explosion waiting upon our arrival? I would wish that Arcturian solar crystals will be flourishing that time around."

Mildly amused by the man's statement, Hatford leaned to his first mate and whispered low to his ear. "Well, and here I thought I was the creative one."

"Clearly," he stifled a chuckle in response.

"Alright, I think that's enough lollygagging for now," Admiral Blake finally spoke up. "I understand that we all still have doubts, a mountain of questions and a lot of information still needs to be uncovered. Not to mention that the rest of this case's foundation remains obscure. Even with the emergence of the item, we still barely have any leads to the source we've been investigating for months."

After a brief pause, he heaved a short sigh. "But that is what search expeditions are for. At the moment, the information lent to us by Captain Hatford, Admiral Honest and the rest of the research team will suffice for a voyage to hopefully discover the source and put an end to our long-enduring search."

"But Admiral Blake, considering that this is an explosion we are investigating, won't it be putting lives at risk in this pursuit?" his co-department asked.

To answer Admiral Cosmos' inquiry, he put on a confident grin on his face and pointed to a certain Felinid. "That's where Captain Smollett comes in."

"I beg your pardon," Amelia stuttered, she and the Admiral Chief caught off guard by his sudden recommendation. "Me? I believe I was merely summoned here for an interrogation about the Legacy."

"Yes, you were. Now, let us get straight to the point: right before you docked into spaceport for your commission, you've arrived albeit a couple of hours late after a successful dealing with a portion of the Procyon armada you were assigned to. Am I correct?" he probed.

"... Yes, sir," she answered with hesitation, careful with her superior officer who remembered every single detail from her report about that particular occasion.

"And according to your report from your last voyage, you wrote that you and a handful of your crew were able to handle the event of a supernova and a mutiny that concurrently occurred on your ship during that voyage?"

"I wouldn't exactly say 'concurrent' but I suppose when a crew of questionable standards are chartered aboard the ship, there is already the sense of dread that a mutiny might or might not arise on a later time."

"Well, that is the very reason why I considered inviting you for this assembly, Smollett. Your experiences regarding shortcomings like these could prove to be very useful for a voyage of this nature," the admiral finally admitted. "After all, I'm aware that you won't have the interest to come in if the council didn't invite you personally."

It was all becoming apparent to her now. "I see, you half-lied about the interrogation on the Legacy to make sure that I'll arrive. The true purpose of my attendance is to be debriefed about an expedition for the artifact's origin, because you're voting that I'll be the one to instigate it."

"Now you're catching on" was the satisfied response from the lion-like councilman.

"But I should say, didn't the detonation conveniently occurred in the same timespan as this mutiny of yours, Captain Smollett?" out of nowhere, Admiral Knapp pulled out the question for the captain.

"Yes, it did. Why do you ask?" Amelia had to question while trying to keep a straight face.

"And the Legacy was able to sustain damages from what seemed to be a sizeable line of fire. Did it not?"

"It did, sir."

"Although I should say that this is very much a coincidence, but could this line of fire be perhaps the very explosion that occurred adjacent to Spaceport Cresentia?"

Not favoring the sound of where the interrogation was heading, Admiral Blake immediately interjected. "Forgive me for being straightforward with my words, but are you suspecting that the mutiny had something to do with it?"

Admiral Knapp crossed his arms and replied with a smug grin. "Sharp as ever, Admiral Blake. But that is just at the surface of why I'm doubting her involvement in this."

The grey-skinned admiral protested in defense. "That is but a far-fetched assumption, Admiral Knapp. It is near impossible to say that a mere solar galleon like the Legacy could be the catalyst of a detonation, the magnitude of which reached as far as a large meteor!"

"You can only be so sure, Admiral Bluedwarf. While it is safe to say that no solar galleon could be the courier of anything that blew up what seemed to be an entire planet, let alone survive from it, we could still see from a different angle that the explosion must've come from an external source."

He took into account his colleague's account although he still didn't see the rationality of his claims. "But then again, who could've possibly engineered a large-scale explosion such as that? The man either has to be a madman or a machine to have built something of that caliber."

'If only Admiral Bluedwarf knew,' pondered Amelia once again of how spot-on the description was, when in fact it was a madman who engineered the said explosion with some help from a certain machine of an underling, and said machine was now apparently working as the Legacy's pilot under her supervision.

The Leonid superior officer then cut through the two's debate. "We can suspect Smollett all we want but if by all means she was ever involved in it, I will say that this only makes it more of a reason for us to recruit her. Her knowledge will be most vital to this quest."

"You can't be serious, Admiral Blake," the still doubtful admiral exclaimed with a shake of his head. "As far as we know, we have other Navy personnel who are just as competent but even ten times as trustworthy as your candidate. The whole situation is a tremendous risk for the Royal Navy, and I can't just put my confidence on someone who has an apparent problem with the Navy's... politics."

"Politics has nothing to do with this, Knapp."

"Yes, it does. It was why she abandoned her administrative post and ended up sidelining with the reserves in the first place," cynically, he informed which only peeved Amelia and had her throwing a glare to the man as he quoted further. "'Big on protocol' doesn't proportionately sit well for someone who is 'big on results', it seems."

"Then what do you suggest, Admiral Knapp?" queued Admiral Cosmos.

"I simply suggest that another person be assigned the job, more legally someone from administration. My concern is that I have every right to doubt her, since this trust issue of hers directly impacts her credibility as an asset to the Royal Navy."

"Admiral Knapp," finally responded Amelia to correct him. "It is with a clean conscience I say that my frustrations with this division's bureaucracy, I assure you, has never at all reflected in my credibility as a proper captain."

"And this statement of yours, is it out of loyalty to your position in the Royal Navy?"

"My loyalty..." she said with whole austerity. "Is to the Terran Empire, as how all Royal Navy constituents should dutifully be."

Moved by her solemn words, Admiral Cosmos had to resist clapping her hands in applause but instead decided to compliment the young captain's astuteness. "Very well said, Smollett. Now, if we will give you the offer of instigating this expedition, will you be very much inclined to accept the task?"

Amelia's shoulders tensed up at the thought of finishing the business she started a year ago, and although she was pleased with everything her superior officer said to her, she chose to decline. "It is a colossal responsibility, ma'am. I would take on the task myself but as I find myself ridiculously agreeing with Admiral Knapp's statement, I don't think I'm in quite the right position to take it. If I accept it, it would be an infringement of protocol and the Navy does fuzz a lot on protocol," explained Amelia, adding the last bit in contempt with the knowledge that it would be politically incorrect for a captain (correction: an independently-operating reserves captain) to take on a job rightfully meant for someone in administration.

"Is this coming off as a bluff, maybe to conceal what you might know about the detonation?" her other superior officer said who was still probing on her like a wasp.

The man's accusations were beginning to grind her gears and found herself evading the job offer even more. "With all due respect, Admiral Knapp, sir. You are free to speculate whatever you want, but please, understand that I'm putting my good name on the line the moment that I'm burdened with this quest and I will most certainly not take that risk."

Admiral Honest, with a self-assured grin, spoke up about this. "You won't have to worry about that. I already considered signing you up for the job under my name. With that, you are very much allowed to carry out however you want but I will be taking full responsibility for your actions."

The captain gaped upon the instantaneous message and couldn't keep in her stammering. "... You can't be serious."

Admiral Cosmos appended. "What if... we have a full discussion about your promotion later on? Would that change your mind?"

There was a stunned pause in the hall and even the Felinid was taken aback by what she just heard. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean?"

"Given that you have accomplished the task satisfactorily, I shall have no problem with filing a well-deserved promotion for you. And you will find yourself able to move up to an admiralty rank in the administration."

As expected, Admiral Knapp was quick to complain. "Admiral Cosmos, is this wise?"

"Why not? Captain Smollett has a clean record, her contributions from even before she stepped down to the reserve corps remain exemplary especially with keeping a portion of the Procyon Armada outside of local territory, and she is a bearer of the Green Badge of Honor, a much respected title," she enumerated with high regards to the female officer. "I assure you that her promotion is proffered with good intentions."

"I can also see this as an opportunity to show her that the administration can openly lend her its trust, since Captain Smollett has apparent deeply-rooted doubts with it," added Admiral Bluedwarf.

The Leonid raised a finger to his chin. "A treaty, I see. That does make sense since this expedition should indeed be built on a strong bond of trust."

"I'm glad that you understand my cause," thanked the Admiral Chief for her colleagues' valuable insight.

Seeing his co-councilmembers making a common vote on the matter, all Knapp could do was cross his arms in disapproval and grunt in apparent defeat. "Do what you please but I will still remain doubtful."

"We understand, Admiral Knapp. The council respects your personal decision," comforted Cosmos and she turned once more to Amelia. "Do we now have an agreement, Captain Smollett?"

With a deep breath and a stern face straight to them, the captain replied with a heavy heart, seeing that there weren't any more viable excuses she could concoct that would help her elude the assignment. "Since you arranged it that way, I suppose I am now obliged to accept the assignment."

"Very good. Now, let us commence with your mission orientation. But hang on, how can Captain Smollett be guided if we still don't have enough grounds for definite mission objectives?" she asked her Leonid co-worker.

"Good point. While we are given some insight by the sphere's existence, we still don't have much information to properly map out how we should investigate or where we should even begin with it." His eyes panned to Amelia then asked. "Since you will be the one leading this expedition, can we also rely on your extra set of hands to assist with gathering what could help strengthen the basis of this investigation?"

"I'll see to it that I assist in any way I can, sir," she responded with a firm tone much to her superior officer's relief. It was still a sight, however, that didn't sit well with Admiral Knapp who was still suspiciously judging her in silence.

"Very good. In that case, your voyage's schedule will be tentative until further notice, although I'm sure Admiral Bluedwarf and the rest of the Board of Regents will probably vote that it take place at the end of the academic year."

The mentioned councilman nodded his head to attest the man's opinion. "Indeed, Admiral Blake. Most likely, we will approve your voyage once we are assured that you have already settled all your affairs in the Interstellar Academy. While you are at it, do take the time to research on the artifact at hand," he advised Amelia with the mysterious golden sphere in mind.

"I understand, sir."

Admiral Blake continued. "As for your ship and crew, we can discuss that at a later time but I do need to bring up the new solar galleon I'm informed of that will be replacing the Legacy under your management. Is that right?"

She wouldn't deny that she was curious with his question and what he was trying to imply with it. "Yes, sir. My husband pioneered in engineering it, although I'm not quite allowed to carry out missions with the ship at the moment since it is still a prototype."

"Yes, the RLS Centurion in fact. A revolutionized model that The Royal Lightship Company collaborated with him to design. It is said to be faster than the current standard lightship and was designed to be more solar energy-efficient."

His grey-skinned co-department had cut in. "Is this to say that Amelia should deploy the Centurion for her mission?"

"Absolutely not," quickly exclaimed Admiral Blake. "While the idea that an innovated lightship will help make the voyage an efficient one, there is the risk that blackguards will take an interest in it and swipe the galleon from under our noses like they did to the many others before it. That would be a colossal problem because the Centurion is a very powerful ship, and I would hate to live the day when it falls into wrong hands."

"Also, since the Centurion has a particularly different architecture than its predecessors, it will be quite a challenge to balance between familiarizing with the vessel's mechanism while working on a high-priority expedition," added Amelia. "The expedition is already a handful as it is, what more with the inexperience of operating on an alien vessel."

An officer from one of the benches then spoke about this. "Then this expedition should be a good chance to see just how well we could work with this new model and how far we could go with it!"

"Yes, and Captain Smollett can give us input of her experiences with it," another one agreed with him. "Her notes will be very useful for future improvements, especially the moment this lightship model is staged for mass production."

"I don't think you understand," the Leonid disapproved once more. "The expedition is already a huge risk for the empire, and throwing in the utilization of a powerful vessel takes that to a ten. We can't just put two risks into a single mission; that will be overkill to us all!"

"Then if we can't deploy the Centurion now, Admiral Blake, then when?" quizzed the Admiral Chief as she enlightened him of the situation. "You have a skilled captain at your employ for a high-priority investigation and she even has a powerful ship underway, specifically made for commissions like this. A rare opportunity has showed itself to you and yet you refuse it?"

"I deliberate on it, Admiral Cosmos," he corrected. "I am prepared to give one hundred percent for this investigation but that does not mean I'm careless enough to put Smollett or the name of the Royal Navy in jeopardy."

"And you are careless enough to doubt the situation that is at hand," chastened Cosmos. "This is your one hundred percent, Admiral Blake, and I advise that you don't let it go to waste."

For a long second while once again weighing the circumstances of his actions, the red-haired officer hummed. "I will still have my doubts if you'd let me, but I suppose I could give Captain Smollett the prerogative to deploy the Centurion if she wants to. However, I do highly encourage that she have the Legacy underway for the voyage just to be on the safe side."

A short nod from Admiral Cosmos put an end to their little debate, the officer mildly satisfied with the decision her equally-ranked councilmember has come up with.

Leaving the situation be, Amelia just sighed in resignation. "Very well, but whether it is the Centurion or the Legacy that I'll be boarding for the voyage, I shall make no such promises in advance that I will return to spaceport with either ship back in one piece."

"Oh, blast the ship for all I care!" shrugged the red-haired officer. "As long as you are able to complete the task without fail. Is that understood?"

In compliance, the Felinid captain hardened her posture and saluted. "As you wish, Admiral Blake."

Meanwhile in the Interstellar Academy at that very same time, resident students were scheduled to pick up their freshly-cleaned clothes for that day which were the once dirty laundry they had deposited the day before. The A.M. queue was formed at the academy's laundry service hall, and Jim and his friends were nearing their turn at the 'Claim' counter, doing a status report of their little bingo game to pass the time while they wait.

"Alrighty, initiating campus bingo update," announced Rainier to his three roommates, doing a bunch of elaborate hand poses before pulling out a folded up game sheet from his pocket. "So, who's got the most so far?"

Chris raised an index finger at him, asking another question instead of giving an answer. "Wait a minute, does being accidentally locked inside Prof. Pulver's supply shed count as 'getting stuck inside a locker'?"

"Yeah, it kinda does," said Jim while Morph helped counting up the 'X'-d out boxes on his own sheet. "The supply shed is just one big storage locker to him anyway."

The black-haired teen was about to nod his head but a swirl of laughs escaped his mouth instead when he remembered what happened that day. "Oh, man. That was a good one, Chris. The Etherium winds sure know how to pull a good prank on you."

"Anyway," dismissed the self-conscious Loppytonian with a clearing of his throat. "Counting that in makes it ten out of twenty-five tasks for me."

"Oh, you're the same as me," cheered the blond Dale as he waved his own sheet in front of him after counting his own. "I think we're doing pretty well so far, and the midterms won't even be around for another two months. That means there's still plenty of chances to get all of them done before the school year ends."

"Yeah, which is why I'm not surprised that no one has aced a test yet," brought up Rainier at the mention of the midterms. "We're really gonna be tested for that task by the time the tests start pouring in."

A thought entered Jim's head and just when he was about to bring it up his friends, they heard a woman calling out from the counter with a name card in hand. "Mr. Levey?"

"Ah," said Chris with a small rub of his hands. "That's my cue."

While the Loppytonian attended to gathering his laundry load and signing his name on the logbook, Jim then took the chance to cut in and ask his earlier question. "Wait, doesn't the algebra proficiency test count?"

"It does. A lot of our classmates did pretty well in it but none of us actually aced it, at least that's what Doc Stringly told us about the test results," he recalled in low spirits, but moved past it quick with a compliment to his roommate. "But you sure got some good marks in it, my man. I didn't know you're quite a math wiz."

"Mr. Wess?" called the woman again and it was now their blond companion's turn for the errand.

"I'm not," denied the human teen. "A girl who sat beside me back then just happened to have volunteered as my partner for the test. But yeah, she's really good at it."

"Lucky! So what's her name, huh? You should ask her out on a date or something to at least thank her for the charity work," the antlered teen teased, like there was never a day that passed by without him shaking up his pals a bit.

"Then that way, Jim can cross out 'asking somebody out on a date' off his bingo sheet," muffled the pangolin-like blond, his arms cuddling the laundry basket to his chest and was raised high enough to get in the way of his face.

"Mr. Trelawney?"

Unamused, the mentioned lad blew on a tuft of his hair and grumbled to himself before moving to the receiving desk. "Seriously, when is everyone gonna get my name right?"

Jim rolled his eyes at his roommates, already making a habit out of it every time anyone attempted to pair him with anyone and funny enough, he had been getting a lot of the same remarks ever since he already had things ironed-out with his rival Ferdinand. "Oh, come on, a date is the last thing I have in my mind right now but now that I think about it, I haven't really given her a proper 'thank you' ever since she helped me out."

Rainier had already set a pen on the record book but felt his hands shaking from what he heard his friend just said. "You... about two months have passed since the math pre-test and you still haven't thanked her?!" Rainier guffawed to the little pink shape shifter's surprise, his voice loud enough to be heard in the whole receiving area. "Oh, Jim. I never thought I'd say this but dude, you're a terrible, terrible person!"

"Hey, she was being very difficult back then, alright?!" the lad went to justify himself as he felt his face flush out of embarrassment. Trying to get his composure back, he let out a long huff of breath. "But you're right, now I feel kinda terrible for not giving her the credit while I had the chance. I guess I'll just have to properly thank her the next time we meet, let's hope I won't forget."

"Mr. Hawkins?" finally, the laundry woman called out and the teen moved next to his Cervid roommate who was already lugging his own laundry pile out of the way.

Coming up with a way to help him out, Dale proposed a solution. "As funny as it may sound but maybe you can thank her through a poem, Jim. Saves you the trouble of doing the middlemost task of having to write a love poem for someone."

Rainier lifted a hand free from his laundry basket and dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Nah, Jim wouldn't consider doing that for her. He's probably reserving the task for someone else."

"Who?"

"Why, Kate the Blake, that's who!"

No longer putting up with the same kind of commentary constantly thrown at him, Jim flashed the Cervid his signature don't-mess-with-me glare. "Okay, that's enough playing matchmaker for today, Rainier."

Agreeing with his owner's reaction, Morph transformed into a smaller version of Jim's face and threw the same scowl to the black-haired lad.

"Sorry, sorry. Stopping now," he stammered when he got the two's point although a small grin was still on his face. "Well then, I got an eleven. So who checked out the most tasks for this week?"

Chris spoke on behalf of his roommate who was just about done with the laundry service formalities. "I think Jim did. He told me he already has twelve tasks accomplished so far."

"Really?" asked Dale, with the brown-haired teen setting down his clothes basket and letting the blond take a peek into his sheet. Indeed, his roommate was right to his surprise. "Whoa, you're practically at the halfway mark already, Jim."

"Thanks," he said while he folded away the piece of paper then went back to carrying his laundry pile with a confident grin. "At this rate, I'll be having the prize right after midterms. A free lunch from you guys after a whole tiresome week of exams is a real celebratory mood."

"Oh, stop bluffing, Jim," chuckled Chris in a lighthearted tone. "You're just trying to get us all fired up so you'll have some competition, not like you consider us to be anyway."

"A-ha! You're catching on very quick, man," he complimented his roommate's wit. "But dont worry. I consider you guys a healthy competition to be honest, and not like the way Ferdinand overdoes it."

"Well, no one wants to face-off with an obnoxious bloke like him," spoke Rainier between short thoughtful nods of his head then remembered. "But Kate the Blake is kinda coming off as your academic rival now. Think you'll do okay as her competition, too?"

Jim simply answered with a shrug, unsure of what to say since he never considered the conversation he had with the Leonid as her offer of competition to him, not really wanting to get on the girl's bad side if that was the case. "I guess we'll just see when we get there."

"So," began Chris as the other three followed him starting to walk out of the room. "After we've unloaded these back in our room, what are we having for lunch today?"

"Since we've been brimming with health from eating nothing but cafeteria food for a long while, how about we have a one-time pig-out in town?" Rainier proposed which his roommates gave enthusiastic responses to. Even the little pink blob was dancing around in the air in excitement.

"Then I know just the place," suggested the Loppytonian. "I'm a loyal Grease Wagon customer, and the spicy wings they have there are to die for."

Jim looked up to his thoughts, the name of the eatery sounding a bit unfamiliar to him. "I haven't been there before, so I'm not sure which stuff are the ones I should have."

"How about let's just have whatever Chris is having?" Rainier thought, knowing that his roommate was quite a connoisseur when it came to junk food. "Just to be sure, but I know whatever he's having, it's gonna be great."

Hearing the suggestion, Chris began to think aloud. "Well, that's four bonzabeast cheeseburgers, four potato fries, a side of jalapenos, and a pitcher of purp juice..."

Dale smiled at inviting the sound of his feast. "Yeah, that works for me!"

"That sounds good though," agreed Jim and felt his own stomach rumble in thought.

"Hey, Dale," the antlered lad quickly intervened with a reminder. "Those are cheeseburgers we're talking about. Whatever happened to 'lactose intolerance'?"

"... Life is too short for that, Rainier" was what Dale had to say in retaliation as he threw a smug grin to his pal's face.

"If you insist, dude," laughed Chris at the lad's attempt at taunting and with a smirk, he went on to humor his roommates with a question. "So, what are you guys having?"