As the device activated Cydnar felt a surge of something he had all but forgotten. Magic. Not quite like that of Althanas, but all the same distinctly full of energy and promise. Here, even his own geomancy felt alien, as though it were disconnected from the wellspring of his Thayne. He scrutinised the holographic display as it formed in a sphere and flickered over the table top.

“What am I looking at?” It was a ship of some sort, but beyond the size and scope of anything he could imagine.

“This is a design for a new star ship.” Dorn ran a finger along the aft side. “Here, we’re struggling to overcome flaws in the structural integrity of the outer hull.” He pushed his fingers into the image and rotated the ship so that Cydnar could see the area concerned.

“And…?”

Larisa smirked. “You’re an artisan.” She paused. “A geomancer.”

It dawned on Cydnar that he was not a welcome guest for his historical worth. They wanted something from him, that only he, amongst all the elves of tomorrow could provide. He slouched.

“You want me to help build this…ship.”

“Capital vessel,” she corrected. “Yes. Precisely, you’re so witty!”

“I’m so useful,” Cydnar corrected. He turned away from the schematic and looked Larisa straight in the eye. “I still don’t have any questions to answer.”

“And frustrating,” she added. “Alright. Cydnar, would you help us build the Adoria?”

“No.” His tone was flat and suggested he was not to be swayed.

“Pity.”

“Shall I, ma’am?” Lugre shuffled forward in his seat and moved his hand slowly to his side-arm.

“No no,” Larisa tensed. “That won’t be necessary.” She raised an eyebrow at her guest. His face remained a sea of calm, so she nodded, and Lugre unholstered his pistol and rested it on the table’s edge with a firm grip.

“No, unless my companion works alongside me,” he said finally, giving Larisa pause for thought and Lugre growing frustration. Cydnar pictured the pilot as a hothead, ignoring commands for the thrill of another daring action in the skies. He would not be the man’s next medal.

“Witty, frustrating, and yet deviously clever… I don’t think you quite underst-“

Larisa paused as a cold needle of quartz pushed against the back of her neck between the third and fourth vertebrate. Cydnar had formed them the second his guests crossed the threshold into his chambers and kept them levitating silently above their heads. They dropped stealthily and put his point across to the officer plainly.

“I understand quite well, Larisa. What you don’t seem to gather is that I could have left this bar less prison days ago but chose to stay in good spirits and learn all I could of what your ancestor’s actions will bring. Do not think for a second that I am asking.” He rotated the needle just enough to prick the skin and draw blood before pushing it away and dragging it to his outstretching hand.