Prologue
Even if the rest of the world couldn't see it coming, they knew what President Business' increasing control meant. He'd come to the Corps, once, asking after them. Offering them jobs at Octan, better jobs, he'd said. As if anything could be better than working in the Space Corps. He needed a security force, he'd explained, one capable of handling a certain Master Builder problem.
They had politely, but very firmly, turned him down.
Master Builder problem. There was a handful of Master Builders among their own number. Their siblings were at high risk, and perhaps they'd just painted an equally large target on their own heads. Lord Business wasn't going to let their refusal slide. He would take it as a personal affront.
The Director was sad to see them go, but he understood. Of course he did. The other Master Builders would put up a fight, of course they would, but Lord Business would find another way to get his 'security force', and their pride wouldn't allow them to work together to put an end to the threat. The Blues would have to stand up for them, and put the world back to rights. It was what they'd spent so long training for, after all.
They would realize only too late that they'd gotten in way over their heads.