As the steamwagon wheeled down the streets, vibrating over the cobblestone, Nigel saw the fleet docked with the high towers of Skycarrier Fleet Headquarters.

“The fleet shouldn’t be docked and refitting for three weeks, something’s happened.” Nigel said. “Speed it up, man, make haste!” Nigel poked and prodded at his driver who cursed quietly to himself.

At the gates of the Royal Council, several stone-faced guards were refusing to admit the steamwagon. William was unable to negotiate passage beyond the edge of the gates. Finally, Nigel leaped out of the carriage in frustration.

“Do you know who I am?” Nigel asked, pointing his cane at the ranking soldier.

“Of course,” the soldier said stoically, “you’re retired Admiral Nigel Bennington of Her Majesty’s Royal Skycarrier Fleet, hero of the Colony Wars, and lead civilian adviser to Grand Admiral Huffrey.”

“Then, why, Sergeant, am I not being admitted?” Nigel asked, punctuating his statement with a tap of his cane.

“Orders, sir. Increased security.”