The flight from Republic to the Hysperian starcastle Hohenzollern was never going to be a difficult trip, but the final approach to the magnificent oddity was certainly unique. The ‘boat slip’ they had been directed to looked to be the only one, down towards the ship’s drive plate and built directly into the castle wall. Sconces on either side flickered to life with holographic flame as the door opened to grant them passage.

“A drawbridge?” Willow Beckman asked, wonder lacing her every word, as the shuttle Sicily sat in space before Hohenzollern as the large door swung downwards, chains on either side to complete the look. “An actual draw bridge?” she asked again.

“I see that,” Evan Malcolm said in response. He’d not bothered to take the second seat for the quick trip, opting to stand behind it instead and leave the dull duty of piloting a shuttle to someone more qualified for it. His engineering team, six in total, were seated in the shuttle’s rear with all of their gear. A variety of lightweight and portable diagnostic equipment between them all gave them the best chance to figuring what was wrong.

“This is actually kind of cool,” Willow said, nudging Sicily forward when they’d been given the all clear. On thrusters alone the gap was cleared quickly, concluded by the faint flicker of an atmospheric force field yielding to shuttle’s mass. “Oh look! Even their shuttles look like rowboats!”

“All of this technology and they use it to pretend they’re living in the dark ages,” Even grumbled, mostly for himself, before turning around to face his people. “Remember people, we’re here to find out what is wrong with this barge, fix it we’re able to, then leave. And yes, that does include playing nice with the locals.”

“That include you sir?” one engineer asked. No one laughed, the question coming across as serious sounding and the silence after it confirming it.

“Yes,” Evan answered with a grumble. Not at the man who asked the question, but aimed at the universe in general.

As the rear hatch of the shuttle descended, trumpets started playing to announce their presence, the sound filling the Hysperian shuttlebay, spilling into the shuttle and echoing around, filling everyone’s ears with the sharp, loud sound. “Announcing Knight Evan Malcolm and his squires!” a voice shouted, barely above the trumpets. A few final bursts of exuberant sound and the entire ensemble finally ended.

“I’m going to kill Lake when I see him next,” Malcolm muttered.

Willow stepped up next to Malcolm, the next ranking officer of the away team and with a smile enough for the both of them. “This is so stupid. Isn’t it great?”

“Great. Yes.” Malcolm at least stepped forward before rolling his eyes and bringing himself back under control before stepping onto the ramp, plastering a well-practised smile on his face he normally reserved for visiting officers and brass when he worked in ship construction.

“Knight Evan, welcome to Hohenzollern. I’m Knight Lorelei and responsible for overseeing the blacksmiths. Knight-Captain Filippo sends his regards, but is detained with courtly matters.” The woman wore what looked like serviceable clothing, save for the breastplate over the top, polished to a high standard that would have been impossible to maintain for an actual engineer.

“Responsible for?” Malcolm asked. “Not part of?”

“Oh, no,” Lorelei responded. “I merely serve to guide and be an example to the blacksmiths on what they might one day hope to be if they gain the Viscount’s favour.”

“Right.” Malcolm sighed, then looked to this team of engineers who had finished disembarking, kit included. “Perhaps you could introduce me to your chief blacksmith then?”

“Why would I insult you like that?” Lorelei asked in return. “No, you are a knight. Refreshments are in order. My squire will guide yours and they can commence with the work. We can check in on their progress once they have had a chance to speak with the blacksmiths about their folly and understand the problem they have caused.”

“I’d really rather just get on with fixing your ship than all this pageantry,” Malcolm said exhaustedly.

“Oh, Knight Evan, fear not.” Willow stepped up beside Malcolm, that same smile still on her face. “We’ll have an answer for you shortly. A short repast shouldn’t delay you long.”

The look he gave her should have caused a junior officer to shrivel and die there on the spot. Or explode into a violent spray. But she remained stubbornly corporeal and in one piece. And smiling as she sold him up the river.

“This squire has the right of it!” Lorelei exclaimed. “Squire Eric, see these people to the blacksmiths and inform Smith Olric I shall be along as soon as Knight Evan and I have had a chance to speak.”

“As you wish, Knight Lorelei,” a rather exhausted sounding and looking man said as she stepped forward from a spot by the wall. “This way, please.”

Malcolm watched as Willow and his team of engineers trudged off. “You know, he’s going to kill you too,” he heard one of them say to Willow.

She shrugged it off, pointing at a wall sconce as they walked away. “Real, or holographic?”

“Now, Knight Evan, shall we retreat to the main hall and some refreshments?” Lorelei asked.

It took nearly an hour before Malcolm had been able to politely excuse himself from Lorelei’s presence and rejoin the away team, a page guiding him through the halls and passageways of the starcastle to the ‘forge’ as the young woman claimed it to be. Where Lorelei had taken him up, the page had brought him back down through the massive floating structure, towards where his mental image had placed the engineering section. It didn’t resemble a ship as he’d have thought of it, but more like a space station some fool had slapped warp drives to and called it good enough.

Stepping into the domain of clearly the most intelligent people on the ship, but that being a rather low bar at the moment, Evan was glad enough for the page to excuse themselves and depart. Engineers and ‘blacksmiths’ were hunched over consoles and open access panels, quiet, if animated conversations taking place everywhere.

“Ah, Commander, good.” Willow Beckman bounded over to him, not tied to any specific task like the rest of the team. “There’s something not right here.”

“What, the dark lord has raised an army of goblins to besiege the great forge?” Malcolm said, not even attempting to disguise his irritation. “Or has some evil witch has lain a curse upon the mystic workings of the engines?”

“What? No.” Willow glared and Malcolm for a moment, then shook her head. “The engineers – sorry, blacksmiths – made changes to the engines in order to better shield them from external energy sources. They won’t say what, so it’s making it damned difficult to help. They’ve just told us what performance they’re looking for out of the engines and want us to help them get there.”

“I assume someone has scanned the shielding anyway, yes?”

“Of course,” Willow answered. “Hussein says it looks like the type of shielding you’d need for subspace radiation and exotic matter containment.”

“Which is it, subspace radiation or exotic matter containment?” Malcolm asked, seeking clarification.

“I just said ‘and’, didn’t I?” Willow countered; the normal sass Malcolm associated with the young woman returning. “And there’s something else not right here either. Call it a hunch.”

“A hunch?” Malcolm asked in response.

“An educated hunch?” Willow hesitated for a moment. “Like how I know when someone changes course and by exactly how much.”

“Oh geez,” he exclaimed, a hand rising to cover his eyes as he sought to retreat from existence for a heartbeat. “Save me from delusional idiots and junior officers.”

“Rude,” Willow responded instantly.

“You can’t know when someone changes the ship’s heading and by exactly how much,” Malcolm said irritatedly. “Now, point me at this so-called chief blacksmith. The sooner we get off this floating circus, the better.”