A/N: So just to clarify Daniel is Ri. To clarify, Ri is the species, and the Phoenician Union is the interstellar political entity that most Ri belong to and is comprised of mostly Ri, but has other species living in it as well. Also Py'ri is interchangeble with Archipelagan, and Gai'ri is interchangable with Pangaean. The former is more of a race, the latter is a geographical location. The culture does absorb names from other cultures, hence why there's a Ri named Daniel.

On another note, from here on out there will probably be more time between updates because I have more to edit. My goal is to have one chapter a week out, but who knows if that will happen lol.

Anyways, on to the story!


To get to the metro station nearest to the Central Morgue, our two private detectives crossed the Phoenix Plaza. A massive statue of the plaza's namesake–and the symbol of the Phoenician Union–dominated the middle of it. The red-feathered wings with streaks of orange and yellow reached towards the sky, and the black beak open upwards with the massive black claws gripping the pedestal of the statue. The motto "United We Rise" was carved into the pedestal. The white and red presidential palace stood on the side opposite from the metro station, surrounded by floating security bots and a smart fence.

The Southern Peninsula was wealthier than its northern counterpart. More affluent citizens lived in taller buildings with garden roofs and pools. Large hotels were built along the southern beach, serving as a popular destination spot for people across the galaxy. The city lights began to illuminate the streets as the last rays of twilight disappeared. The clouds from the storm before had dissipated, leaving a clear night. The moon hung over the ocean and Alanaka's ring stretched across the sky.

They reached the condo and knocked on the door. A tall man with neatly combed hair and a suit, most likely just arrived home from work, answered the door.

"Hello! You must be Marjorie."

"Yes. And this is my associate Daniel I. Lee. I presume you're David Hanto."

"I am. Come on in."

A thin hallway led to the living room. It was painted light green with dark brown fabric couches and a TV over a faux fireplace. Large ebony-like bookshelves stood on either side, filled with everything from a deep space atlas and an Alanaka atlas to history books and computer books. Novels, both contemporary and classic, were placed at the top. On of the walls next to it was a panoramic window peering over the city and the bay.

The lights of the Northern Peninsula were visible in the distance, as were those of several of the bay islands. The Izu Island Interregional Airport and the Jhan Island Spaceport were among these. Airplanes and spaceships were constantly taking off and landing, carrying passengers to destinations from other parts of the world to the far edges of the galaxy.

"Beautiful Friday night," David mentioned. "The storms blew over and it's not raining for once. It's bound to be crowded out there."

"Yeah. The ring looks brighter and more colorful than usual," Daniel said.

"Yes. My grandfather always said that the Ethereal spirits put it up there before they left. It's a nice story."

"Yeah. But it's a story nonetheless."

"It's just fragments of a comet that broke up from the planet's gravity and initiated the Cataclysm," Marjorie said as she investigated the bookshelf. She was attempting to learn as much as possible about him. "Speaking of the Cataclysm, this is a fine copy of the Epic of Giri. Fine literature, one of the best works to come out of the Ri diaspora. A story of survival after all was lost. Where did you get this from?"

"My grandma gave it to me. She would always read stories from it to my sisters and me. She would always tell us how Giri led his village from the burning forests across ash-caked plains to the desert to restart Pangaean society. About how they survived bouts of the Necroma virus, the burning desert sun, starvation, and roving bands of bandits."

"Interesting," she replied. "Quite interesting." She felt that he was hiding something.

"Anyways, would you like some tea? I have iraberry, red armako, jasmine, and some more exotic earl grey."

"I'll just have water if that's ok," Daniel said.

"Earl grey with honey," Marjorie said.

As David left the room she motioned to Daniel with her eyes to follow him. Daniel nodded and went into the kitchen to continue the conversation.

Marjorie turned her attention back to the bookshelf. She noticed a small flash-drive slid between the epic and a navigation systems book. While Daniel and David talked more, she turned her attention to this unusual situation. She deduced that the placement was clearly deliberate. The rest of the books were in pristine condition, yet these two were very well used. In fact, there was a deliberate rip in the cover of the navigation systems book. She tuned back into their conversation briefly.

"Most Pangaean grandparents tell stories like that," David said, facing away from her "Don't Archipelagan grandparents do the same?"

"From what I've heard, yes," Daniel said.

"And yours?"

He shook his head. "I never knew mine. They died several years ago."

"What about your other family?"

"I don't really have any family. Except for maybe a cousin or two that went to the Border Worlds, but I haven't talked to them in years." After a few seconds of awkward silence, he said, "There was a train accident."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Marjorie turned her attention back to the flash drive. If David wanted to tell them about the flash drive in a direct manner, he would have. But he was being indirect. It was only logical to assume that he wanted her to take it. So she slipped it into the pocket of her black jacket. But then that leaves the question of why he would be indirect instead of telling them in the first place. Maybe he would say something when they break with the obligatory formalities and start talking.

When they came back into the room, they all took a seat, Daniel and Marjorie on the sofa and David on a chair opposite them. She then shifted her attention to a decoration on the wall opposite of the window. "This is exceptional craftsmanship. A traditional Pangaean wheel made of dark falko wood, with a well-angled square hole in the middle. The green paint in the carved grooves was applied very well. Where did you come across this?"

"The Sunama Market actually. I happened to see it in an artist's stall after I first moved in and I thought it would look nice."

"It's amazing what you can find there," Daniel said. He then put his phone on the table to start recording. "So what exactly do you do for a living?" he asked while Marjorie observed. It was a common tactic of theirs.

"I'm a software engineer for Quanta Starship Corp. I work mainly on the navigation systems. Many claim that it's the quality starcrystal processing techniques, or the design of the hyperspace field generator that set Phoenician starships above the competition, but in actuality it's the software. The programs are able to chart the fastest course and avoid the most stars, performing the necessary calculations in nanoseconds."

"So it has a virtual 3D map of all the hyperspace channels, stars, planets, and other objects in the galaxy?"

"More or less, although I can't go into terribly much detail for corporate rules and Union security issues." David then shifted uncomfortably.

Marjorie knew he was afraid.

"Was Luke acting any differently around the time of his death?" Daniel asked.

"Very much so. He stopped meeting up with everyone for lunch, stopped going to parties, and stopped going to class as often. His grades dropped dramatically. We were going to have an intervention, but it was too late."

"Was there any particular event that changed him, or was it gradual?" Marjorie asked.

"Gradual, I would say. Over a period of a month or two."

"When did you start noticing something was wrong?"

"About 8 weeks before his death he was spending a lot of time at the libraries. I asked him why and he said that he found something strange underground that he was trying to understand."

"Did he tell you what it was?"

"No. He said it was probably nothing."

"Was there anyone who may have been with him?" Daniel asked.

"He said he was alone, but he did often go underground with other people."

"Like who?"

"Well there was his girlfriend, Kita."

"Naoka Kita?"

"Yes, but she always went by Kita."

"Were they together around the time of his death?"

"No. They broke up about a month before. She ended the relationship."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"I'm not completely sure, but I have a feeling his erratic behavior contributed to it. She was really upset afterwards though. We all were."

"Interesting," Marjorie said. "On a separate note, did anyone ever try to hurt him? Or show a desire to hurt him?"

"No, why?"

She took a sip of her tea and leaned forward, "Luke's parents believe that there is more to his death than meets the eye. We have evidence to support that."

"What kind of evidence?" He leaned forward, clasping his hands together in nervousness.

"Bodily injury. We believe that someone was trying to hurt him," Marjorie said. "But we don't know why. Can you think of any reason why anyone would want to?"

"Not that I know of. Although Kita's ex-boyfriend wasn't too happy about it, but I don't think he would try and hurt Luke."

"What's his name?"

"Sean Na'ida."

"Wonderful," she said as Daniel wrote the name down. "Now is there anything else you would like to tell us?" While David thought she closed her eyes, trying to get a sense of his emotional state. It was pretty clear: Fear. A pleading fear. And a desperate hope that she took the flash drive.

"I can't really think of anything," he said.

"Then that's all we need to know," Marjorie said. "Thank you."

David showed them the door and then went into the bedroom, opened the wooden dresser drawer, and pulled out a clunky disposable archaic nokia flip phone that had been modified to transmit an encrypted proton signal. He dialed 32-784-263-3 and pressed call, holding his breath as it rang 4 times. Finally the person on the other line picked up.

"You're all completely and utterly insane," he said.

The other person said nothing and just breathed.

"I know you killed Luke. This has your fingerprints all over it."

"We didn't kill him," it said menacingly.

"Maybe not directly. But as far as I'm concerned you did."

"We couldn't extract the information we needed."

"Right, it's all about the information, and not about the fact that an innocent person was hurting," he said.

"Our people have been hurting for millennia. Justice must be served," the voice hissed.

"Justice is being able to walk openly without looking over our shoulders. Justice is being able to know and speak the truth. Justice is being able to have our home again. Killing innocent people who weren't even born is NOT justice!"

"Sacrifices must be made. Fire can only be fought with fire."

"Lives mean nothing to you."

"You're speaking as if you're a traitor to the cause. You know the consequences. You know what will happen if you go to the government. You know that Sector 6 will lock you away for many years, or send you to the border worlds after stripping your memories and extracting them to use against the cause. Or they might just outright kill you. They won't forgive for what you've already done."

"I'm not afraid of the government. If innocent people are saved from you then so be it. Although it's not the government I plan on going to," David said.

"We will destroy you before you have the chance to destroy our cause. We will get our kingdom back, with or without you."

"The cause will never be dead so long as the truth is out there. There are two private detectives working on this, know for solving baffling crimes. Perhaps they will reveal the truth, and do what you are too zealous to properly do."

And with that he hung up and smashed the phone against the wall, and began to weep bitterly, sliding down the opposite wall and sitting on the floor. David Hanto knew his days were numbered.

The person on the other side of the line, a slim, tall woman pushed the arms of her dress past her elbows and turned, taking off her headset. "Hanto's gone rogue. And he plans on telling O'Sullivan and Lee. He's a traitor to the cause."

"Then end him," a man with icy, gray-green eyes said coolly, concealing the rage that burned within.

"And the detectives?"

"Let the bloodhounds do their job."

The streets of Pyrana were already overflowing with people excited to take advantage of the enchanting evening. A cool salty sea breeze stirred the bright lanterns hanging off roofs and balconies, placed in preparation for the Numaila festivities to come. The glyphs of the old language were silhouetted against them, asking for tidings of good fortune for the upcoming year and saying goodbye to the old. It was the type of night that I missed, that I didn't appreciate enough in the past.

Our detectives walked along the bayside boardwalk on their way to the metro station, alongside the palms and small gardens. Some people were holding bonfires on the beach, while others streamed past them in flowy dresses and fancy shirts, heading to the numerous nightclubs. Various species stood blended into the crowd.

When our private detectives reached the station, they scanned their rider-cards for the S-line train–so named for the S-shaped path it too from downtown and across the peninsulas–and boarded the middle of the train as it stood motionless above the track, the hum of the super-magnets barely audible above the din of the crowds.

Advertisements flashed on the screens above in a desperate attempt to catch the fickle and fleeting attention of the riders. "Healthy hearts are important. See a Phoenician Health Service provider periodically to get both hearts checked regularly," flashed one. Others were geared towards drawing travelers towards them: "Come find yourself at Kyona Island City" and "Disney World: Senki. 'Where dreams come true'" were common. A cacophony of companies advertised with dazzling phrases containing "of the future", or "making the future." Such was appropriate for the trailblazing city of the future.

They passed through the Selfri District, stopping briefly at the Salmucha Station, where had just visited yesterday. Daniel looked out the window, through the open-air station, and across the street to the blue box, standing in the pale moonlight.

"Have you noticed that box before?" he asked Marjorie.

"Of course. I notice everything," she said in her bluntly honest way. After a year and a half of working with her, Daniel was no longer fazed by such comments.

"How long do you think it's been there?"

"I don't know exactly. But I think it's been a very long time since it's moved."

"It's such a strange little thing to be standing on a street corner, gathering dust and mildew."

"Yeah…" Marjorie trailed off and turned away to look out of the window on the other side of the metro train. She had yet to tell Daniel about that part of her dark past.

After reaching Almi, the two detectives stopped at a pub and enjoyed a few drinks for the end of the week. When she returned home, Marjorie inserted the flash drive into her pineapple computer and performed an initial scan. "The device contains a single program. It is compatible with the Lemur operating system," the computer told her.

She clicked on the flashdrive icon to open it up. There was a single item named "sandfish." When she tried to open it a box popped up asking for a 10-digit code. She typed in the date of Hanto's parents' anniversary; these were common among passwords.

"9 more tries," the computer announced. She closed it. The program would have to wait until morning.

The morning light slid through the blinds and white curtains into the room, lighting up the soft light blue walls, reaching across the oak–like desk nearly plastered with newspapers, bills, and trinkets, with a laptop precariously balanced on top, across the carpet, past the bookshelf crammed haphazardly with a miscellany of titles and the open closet bursting at the seams before finally laying to rest near the occupant of the bed.

Marjorie stirred and stretched, reaching over to her phone to check the time: 8:45am, a fairly early time for her to be up on a Saturday. Too early. Something was wrong. Marjorie quietly and carefully got up and walked to her closet, pulling her pistol out of the small box on the top shelf and loading it as silently as possible, turning off the safety. The cold metal fingers of her artificial arm and the cold metal of the gun lightly sandwiched her organic hand. Somebody else was in the apartment.

She silently crept across the hall towards the living room, avoiding the areas she knew creaked under pressure.

"You're up fairly early," the woman in Marjorie's armchair said as she folded up the newspaper and smiled.

"You overrode the lock," Marjorie lowered the gun, turned on the safety, unloaded it, and placed it on the table. "You could've just knocked."

"Yes, I could've. But considering the fact that you never returned any of the messages from mom and I in well over a year, I didn't think that would be received well."

"So you thought taking the expensive and lengthy journey from Earth to Alanaka and breaking into my apartment was a better option? Really Naomi?"

"Well it's certainly the more entertaining one." Naomi O'Sullivan chuckled. She then stood and walked over to Marjorie. "Besides, I get to see my younger sister. It's been far too long since we've been together in the same room, let alone on the same planet. And considering that your birthday is this week I thought it would be a wonderful present to treat you to breakfast."

"Right now?"

"Yup. Better go get ready."

"This is exactly the kind of thing Naomi would do," Marjorie thought to herself as she quickly got ready. It was the weekend, so she wore a pair of denim jeans with a purple t-shirt, as opposed to her work outfit of black slacks and a blouse. Her usual black jacket and a pair of gold earrings completed the outfit. She pulled back her dark, curly hair into a ponytail.

They took the metro to Cya'i Island, a bay island known for its quaint restaurants and shops. The station on the island was open air and near the docks. Boats ranging from small motorboats to larger yachts bobbed in the crystal clear water.

They ended up eating at a small café on the hill, overlooking the water. The South Peninsula and downtown were both visible in the distance. Large palms stood near the beach and in gardens. Vines with bright red and yellow flowers grew up the white walls of the town's buildings.

They ate a breakfast of fish over black hanta-grain mash with spicy red Pylani sauce drizzled over it and numerous savory herbs mixed in. A side of brightly colored mixed fruit with a variety of textured peels was served as well.

"I've always found that food tells a lot about a place," Naomi said. "The fish and the fruit reflect the tropical island status of the city, and the herbs and sauce reflect traditional cooking methods. But what is most interesting to me is the use of the Hanta grains.

"How so?"

"They're alien to Alanaka, originating on Hantang, the grain world. It is quite likely it was produced in the outer worlds, or one of the allied worlds that the Phoenicians exported it to. In fact, the grain is currently being planted in Sub-Saharan Africa and the American Dust Bowl. It's also grown on the Pangaean continent, where it was imported just prior to unification to replace some of the major food crops that went extinct in the Cataclysm as a form of ecological restoration and diversification of food options. It reflects the trade-based economy of the Union, as well as the post mass extinction status of the planet, which is often forgotten by dazzled visitors."

They sat in silence for a moment when Marjorie asked, "Why are you here Naomi?"

"I already told you: to see you. It's been over four years. Besides your birthday's this week, and Christmas is soon after. Please don't tell me you forgot your birthday."

"The year has two and a half extra weeks and there are no seasons in Pyrana. Keeping track of Earth months is not the easiest thing. Besides, I have other things on my mind."

"You mean the private and consulting detective work?"

"Yes that's exactly what I mean now why are you here Naomi? Given the constraints and difficulties of space travel from Earth it seems very unlikely that you would be able to come on your own accord. Besides, you always have an agenda."

"If you must know I was given the opportunity for a business trip. I thought it would be the perfect time to see you again."

"You're with UNIT aren't you? It seems like a job that fits you."

"You're not supposed to know that," Naomi smiled.

"I know lots of things I'm not supposed to know."

"You don't know everything."

"I know much more than most."

Naomi put down her spoon and straightened. "Marjorie, listen to me. Listen to me because this is very important. You are a very gifted and exceptional person. You are incredibly brilliant and have minor psychic gifts, but you are neither invincible nor infallible. You're human. You can be wrong. Failure to recognize that is and has been you Achilles heel. But that's a conversation for another time. Let's just enjoy a nice breakfast together, as sisters. What do you think Marjorie? Marjorie?"

Marjorie was staring out the window at the plume of thick, black smoke that was billowing up from the South Peninsula skyline. A firehovercraft sped across the water with its siren blaring. A few ambulances followed in its wake. Her phone began to vibrate with a call from Daniel. She picked it up.

"You know what happened?" she said. "Mmm-hmm. Ok. Tell them I'm on my way. My mind may be changed I'm not a hundred percent sure yet. No you didn't convince me. See you there." She hung up and turned to Naomi. "We need to get the check and I need to go."

"I'll come with you," Naomi said.

"Naomi, please, this is my job."

"And you're using it to get out of this. You probably wouldn't go at all if we weren't having this meal. You know you're not the only smart person here. Also this sounds very interesting."

"Ok, if it makes you happy, you can come, but you most likely won't be allowed on the scene."

"Works for me!"

So they headed off.


Several hours earlier

"Ouch!...Uuggghhhh." Daniel had just woken up and rolled off his couch. He must've gotten up in the middle of the night after a nightmare to watch some TV and just not remembered it. Hence when he rolled over to the other side of the "bed" he actually fell off a couch.

And sure enough, the TV was on. Dramatic sounding music, hushed from low volume, played from the TV and blurred white words hung on the black screen. He sat up to see if he could see what they said.

"One month after the events depicted here ended a comet exploded over Pangaea." It then faded away

"Drought and famine resulted from shifting weather problems and sunlight. These, and the Necroma virus pandemic, resulted in the collapse of the Imperial civilization and the end of the Last Dynasty one year later."

"It is estimated that between 60-70% of all species went extinct. The rate was higher among large megafauna, with an extinction rate of 95-99%."

"90-95% of the Ri population was thought to have died in the next two years."

"40 colonial light-speed seed ships were dispatched to 40 planets believed to be habitable in the year between the initiation of the cataclysm and the final collapse."

"29 of these took hold and flourished, developing in isolation from each other."

"Several millennia later, the rediscovery of space travel, this time FLS, and an extra-alankikian threat prompted the colonies to unite."

"We are the legacy of The Last Dynasty."

The credits rolled and showed pictures from all around the Phoenician Union, from the crowded streets of Pyrana to the four suns of Lustra and the Diamond Mountains of Ranaka. He must've turned on the one of The Last Dynasty marathons that was occasionally held late at night on channel 5342. The series was about two centuries old and meant to portray the last monarchs of the region. The way it did so was hilariously bad. The acting was laughable at best and the script ridiculously melodramatic and almost completely historically inaccurate, considering little to no records remained of the era. The only reason the show stood out was its portrayal of the nascent space program and the famous "We are their legacy" ending.

Daniel stood up and turned it off. A massive headache was starting to come on. He couldn't tell if it was due to falling off the couch or lack of adequate sleep. He took an ibuprofen for the headache and splashed water over his face to wake himself up. At exactly 6-feet tall he was a fairly average-looking Ri, sharing the dark hair and pale skin of about 75% of the population, as well as amber-gold eyes which were shared by about 40% of the population. Light stubble was beginning to grow on his face, which was solved by a quick daily morning shave. On days where he did not get much sleep the night before, purple crescents would begin to show up under his eyes. As the incident progressed, they would become much more frequent.

He went into the kitchen to get breakfast. It was the weekend so he had time to make a nice meal. The few remaining eggs and the mixed vegetables he had would make a nice omelet. He beat the eggs and mixed in red Pylana powder and herbs to give it a spice. While those were cooking, he turned on the TV to a news station and then put the vegetables in. The result was a good and peaceful morning breakfast. Or so he thought.

About halfway through his meal the anchor said, "BREAKING NEWS: An explosion in South Peninsula happened just moments ago. First responders are rushing to the scene. There is speculation that this incident is related to the metro and the car bombing earlier this month. We will keep our viewers updated."

"Fantastic." He put down the plate, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Absolutely fantastic." And as if on cue, his phone rang. Sure enough, it was Inspector Jong.

"Daniel speaking," he said.

"Have you seen the news?" the gruff inspector asked.

"Yes. Do you think it's the same person?"

"We don't know. Which is why we need you and Marjorie down here."

"I'll see what I can do. I'll let you know if we can come."

He hung up and then called Marjorie. Hopefully she would be awake and finally agree to look into this. And oddly enough, she did.

"You know what happened?" she said.

"Yeah, you?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Inspector Jong just called and wants us to come take a look at the crime scene to see if it's connected to the other bombings."

"Ok."

"So are we doing it?"

"Tell them I'm on my way."

"Wait, did you just change your mind on something?"

"My mind may be changed I'm not a hundred percent sure yet."

"Did I just convince you of something?"

"No you didn't convince me. Anyways, see you there." She then hung up.

Daniel quickly got ready and left, careful to put his gun in the holster with the safety on. He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was very, very wrong.