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“Well, maybe you just need to expand your selection of strange bedfellows,” Pullman remarked, more for his own amusement than anything else.

Pullman’s only response was a look of mild surprise followed closely by passing consideration and a soft chuckle.

Pullman debated throwing a barb back at Petrachkov. Instead, he glanced at his watch.

"Damn, this is taking forever."

"Right, uh, I'm going to go have them prepare for our arrival," Kaiser mumbled, Ghosting and sinking through the bottom of the elevator. A couple minutes of awkward silence later, the elevator came to an instant stop, the anti-Newtonian enchantments preventing their inertia from crushing their bones as they halted.

"Nice of you to join us," a technician near the door commented as they stepped out of the elevator. "Door at the end of the room."

The pilot led them between the parallel banks of computers; several dozen technicians of various types were working with the many and varied types of computers for managing the dock.

They were led through a boarding gateway; the crystalline floors with occasional metal paneling from before merged into a catwalk out to the Flying Dutchman. Before they could get a good look, Belias ushered them into the ship.

"Attention, crew of the Flying Dutchman," Blackstone's voice echoed through the ship. "This is Agent Blackstone. From this point forward, I am your captain, and aboard my ship, my word is law. I have government sanction to execute any of you at any time, if disobeying my commands doesn't get you killed on its own. Your job is to make sure I don't have to. Liftoff in five minutes. Cholos, I know you're on-board, get your a** to the bridge."

The mages felt the ship veritably coming alive around them, a tidal ebb and flow of magic coursing through the veins that were the ship's circuitry.

Petrachkov got his wish as everything degenerated into shaking.

"What the ******** was that?" Cholos asked; he was halfway down a hallway.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, that's our secret base being attacked with artillery, likely because someone thought a miles-tall crystal tower makes a good 'secret base,' Cholos," Miriam Belias replied with a distracted look on her face.

The ship's engines roared to life as Cholos disappeared around a corner.

"This is your captain speaking," Blackstone's irate voice declared through the ship's intercom. "We appear to be suffering tele-artillery bombardment. We're going to lift off; the shielding systems of the tower will provide them sufficient time to evacuate everyone to safety. Do not be concerned.

"Nonessential personnel, report to the crew quarters in the starboard wing and prepare yourself for briefing in command module in fifteen minutes," the intercom added.

Well, at least it was shaping up to be an interesting mission. She had not known what to count on after her rude awakening, but now, Catalena anticipated some good, old-fashioned killing time.

Though it irked her just a tad, by now, Catalena was willing to fall under someone's command; disobeying orders just to disobey them was foolhardy and an unnecessarily alienating option. Although... Blackstone would be a good target once this was all over.

She boarded and walked with the rest of them to the command module in silence, lips pursed as she watched Petrachkov skip ahead like a puppy in a field. The only reason she didn't entirely loathe him was that he had managed to survive the assassins.

Lines of light along the walls, colored and marked with the names of where they went and small arrows, sprung to life.

"Take advantage of them now," Miriam Belias suggested, pulling her hand from the wall. "If we get boarded, they deactivate so the enemy can't use them," she explained, walking towards the officers' quarters.

Ten minutes later, a message came over the intercom in Belias' voice. "Operatives Pullman, Romack, Petrachkov, and Jacobson, please report to the command module. Repeat, operatives Pullman, Romack, Petrachkov, and Jacobson, please report to the command module. All combat personnel, report to the armory. "

When the recruits arrived, they heard fragments of conversation through the door.

"... why we'd be taking orders from Jaschanovich..."

"... had the proper clearance codes. He must be part of Glorious..."

"... the CEO of our primary provider of weapons, he must have..."

"... nothing but a common arms dealer...."

The conversation ended abruptly as the door opened, and Theriden Cholos - the pilot from earlier - was waiting with Blackstone and Miriam.

"We've... received peculiar orders..." Blackstone began; with his Shadowman helmet on, his face was masked, but his voice betrayed his uncertainty about the situation. "A... a very high-level Glorious code has accompanied a message that stated we were to trace the tele-bombardment and send you four in a shuttle to deal with it," he continued. "We're not sure why. If you think it's bullshit, t-"

Belias interrupted him: "If you don't think it's legitimate, say so now, otherwise, you can ask questions for about five minutes while we finish the trace or report to the hangar for armament and deployment."