---

The Craton arrived thirty-six hours after my initial contact with them.  Commander Yaepanaya was relieved that the situation was under control, but expressed strong concern about the deaths that nearly occurred.  I have a feeling that next time we leave the Craton, she will insist on being among my team.

Chief Science Officer Cenz seems to be recovering well, thanks to Lieutenant Pirra’s bravery and Ambassador Kell’s intervention.  He will take some time to recover fully, but all of his number seem to have survived, aside from those killed in the initial shot that pierced his water suit.

Our Chief of Engineering, Cutter, and his crew of nearly a thousand Beetle-Slugs are now pouring over this station.  The number of improvements he says he can make to its safety and efficiency are uncountable, even with just the resources in the colony itself.  A great number of small improvements can have a vast positive effect when added together.

There has been some hostility from the populace, but it has begun quickly to fade as we have begun providing medical clinics to the sick and food for the hungry.  Our long-term results will hopefully cement this positive feeling in the minds of the colonists of New Vitriol.

Governor Tede has resigned his position.  Under our observation, a provisional government made up of section chiefs and business owners has come together to fill the void.  We will watch them carefully to make sure their class interests do not come to dominate and harm the rest of the population.  Within a few years we should be able to help them move into a higher form of economy.

Over seven hundred people have expressed an interest in leaving the colony, though we have already begun to receive reports from the Colonial Assistance Council that they have over twenty thousand of their helpers ready to come and get the place back on its feet.  When trouble appears, look for the helpers, they say.

Without Hoc Rem, any organized resistance to our presence has failed to materialize.  It seems that many of his guards were mercenaries he hired, and without prospect of being paid for the effort, they had no desire to resist.

The man himself has disappeared, as Nec Tede predicted.  We can find no witnesses that even admit to seeing him on that last day, and as the former governor said, there are many places he could have left from.  A signal was sent from the station that day that we believe might have been him communicating with his unknown patrons – but the trail is cold.  With just an environment suit and a small craft he could have already met with a larger vessel and escaped the system.

Now all that remains is to do our best for the cloned human beings that the former Governor had been growing.  Only forty percent will likely survive, and with great health problems.  We will do our best for them.

And besides them, we have a new member of our crew to acclimate.  I predict this may be a difficult adjustment for Apollonia Nor.

---

< Ep 2 Part 36 | Ep 2 Part 38 >

---

“The detonator broke,” Urle said.  “I’ve never seen it happen before – this is a high-quality piece of tech.  But it split in half, and just couldn’t set off the detonation signal.  I could have blasted it with a plasma torch and it wouldn’t have cared.”

Brooks studied the components from the disassembled bomb that Urle had set out on the table.  The timer, the sensors, the decomposing explosive, now rendered inert in water.

“Can we trace it to the Governor?” he asked.

“You think he planted it?” Urle asked.

“Possibly.  Can we trace it to him?”

Urle took a deep breath.  “Honestly, Captain – I can’t see them pulling this off.  Everything about this was done expertly.  From the hack that got them close to the bomb itself.  This is . . . this is like black ops level stuff.”

He shook his head.  “We should never have gotten this lucky.”

“We didn’t know who our enemy was,” Brooks said.

“We still don’t,” Logus commented, frowning.

“But we know that they’re professionals, not just angry colonials,” Urle replied.  “It’s a good point, Captain.  I apologize for letting it happen on my watch.”

“Not necessary,” Brooks replied.  He gave his Executive Commander a smile.  “We wouldn’t have even known about it if not for you.”

“I promise you they won’t be able to pull the same trick twice,” Urle said.

“Good.  Now get me any forensics you can off this and report as soon as you know.”

“Yes, sir.”  Brooks stood and left the room.  Logus followed him.

“What now, Captain?” the psychiatrist asked.

Brooks looked back at the man.  “It’s time to confront the Governor.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 34 | Ep 2 Part 36 >

---

“I’m sorry to have to pull you along on this, Pirra,” Urle said over the comm.  “But you’re the only one on the ship besides the Captain that’s rated for an emergency vacuum excursion.”

“No need to apologize, sir,” Pirra replied.

Moth-Owls didn’t get bags under their eyes, but she managed to look exhausted all the same.  But she’d taken a stim shot and he knew she was ready for what came.

They floated quickly and purposefully around the Hurricane.  She was only 70 meters in length, but she felt much bigger right now.

His sensors told him he was at the location the sensor logs had noted.

If they had attached a device, it had to be around there . . .

He saw it.  It was set into a sunken line on the ship’s hull, where it wouldn’t be easily noticed.

It was made of a dull gray metal that looked innocuous enough.  But the case was big enough to hold a tracker unit or hide a sizable explosive charge.

“Here,” he said, extending his sensors cautiously.  He couldn’t be sure how smart the device was, and if it would react to being scanned.  He stuck to passive sensors.

Even so, a flood of information filled his vision.  Ambient particles would have diffused to undetectable levels, and he focused his observations on the hull around the area.

He found residue there.  Just a small amount, but it was conclusive.  High-explosives.

But his sensors didn’t detect a complex computer in it, there weren’t enough electromagnetic emissions.  It wasn’t smart – the opposite, it was as dumb as could be.  Open-bottomed, not sealed, and the explosive had been adhered to the hull.

Utmost secrecy, he thought.  The dumber it was, the less evidence there would be, both prior to planting and after detonation.

“Traces of a high-explosive,” Pirra said.  “An unstable compound.  It will go off once it decays enough.”

“I think so,” Urle said.  “So we’re on a time table.  Can’t be sure how soon, but it won’t be more than a few hours.”

“Unstable compounds are also used to help hide evidence,” she noted.  “It might decay before an investigation could find it.  Point being – there might be other things that can set it off.  We can’t assume it’s just relying on decay.”

“Understood,” he said.  “Captain, I recommend evacuating the ship.  Chance of a decompression are significant – we have an explosive here.”

“In-progress,” Brooks replied.  “But we can’t risk moving Cenz yet.”

“Do you think you can remove it?” Pirra asked.

“I’m not sure,” he replied.  “Do you have any expertise in this?”

“I have training in bomb removal or disposal, but on the stims I’ve got shaking hands.”  She made a sound of exasperation.  “Who uses dumb bombs anymore?  This is like something from an old war.”

“Yeah,” Urle said.  “And I think meant to look like the ship just suffered an accident when it went off.”

Pirra studied it for a moment, looking along the ship.  “I agree.  But it’s not important right now.  Do you want me to take over?”

“No,” Urle said.  He put his hands over the case lightly.  “I’m better equipped.”

His suit did not cover his hands – they were both mechanical.  They normally had a tactile sense better than normal flesh could ever manage, but he’d had to turn that off due to the numbing cold of space.

The tips of his fingers opened, and tiny extendible limbs came out, moving around the edges.

“It was attached expertly.  Fused to the hull – we’ll have to cut it away,” he noted.

“If they were skilled enough to pull that other trick, then I think they’ll have anti-tamper sensors inside the case,” Pirra noted.  “Try cutting off a corner, even in elite circles they don’t often extend the sensors that far.”

“Often,” Urle said.  A bead of sweat broke free from his face as he spoke, the perfect sphere floating loose in his mask.  He ignored it.

Any wrong move and they’d both die.  His children would probably die.  The Captain, Pirra’s husband – everyone with them.  Cenz, if he’d had a chance of recovery, it would be stolen from him.

He fought down his nerves.

He knew he could do this.

Drilling into the case carefully, he made a tiny hole and inserted a sensor.  It was so miniscule as to be nearly invisible to a standard human eye.

“Don’t let it touch anything,” Pirra said.  “Can’t be sure which parts are sensors.”

“Understood.”

He could see a grainy image through his tiny sensor.  Scanning the interior with the barest of touches, he could make out a charge – the unstable explosive.  There was enough to blast a substantial hole in the ship, shaped in a way that would make it look enough like a standard outblowing that it could go unnoticed.  Certainly the Governor’s people would never be able to tell.

Hell, they probably planted it.

That idea bothered him on many levels, but he didn’t stop to dwell on them now.  There was a component he couldn’t identify yet.

A timer!

Damn it.  They hadn’t left anything to chance; they likely expected a very specific time frame here, and decay bombs could vary by nearly a hundred minutes each way.  He carefully extended in another probe, but it was all he could fit through the drill hole.  The sides seemed rigged, and it was a miracle he hadn’t set it off already . . .

His new probe connected to the timer carefully, picking up its ambient charges.  In moments it pieced together a decent view of what was occurring inside.

“We have less than one minute,” he said.  His breathing sounded overwhelming in his ears.

Pirra’s voice stayed calm, collected, and he found himself marvelling at her.

“Captain, you get that?  Expedite the evacuation.”

“Understood,” Brooks replied.

All Urle could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears.  “I can connect to it,” he said.  “Going to attempt to reset its timer.  Buy us some time.”

“No way to just sever the connection?” Pirra asked.  “Turn it off?”

“It’s got anti-tamper sensors, basic passive things, all over the place.  I’m going to need more time to deactivate them.”

The words came out but his mind was focused on this.

Forty-five seconds.

He connected to the timer, and found that his number was correct.  But still ticking down.

There was no intelligence in this, but any extra charge he put in to give a command might set it off.  He couldn’t go that route.

Thirty seconds.

If he disabled the sensor, he could do whatever he wanted with the rest of it.  He just had to get the one.  He even knew the kind; he’d used them before.  Top of the line, incredibly resilient against tamper.  Simple as all hell.  Tough to trick but not impossible.

Fifteen seconds.

He had to go for it.  He needed a different tool, but there was no chance he’d get it in position in time.  Using his second probe, he slipped it up against the sensor gently.  Had to be careful . . .

Ten seconds.

“Run,” he grit out to Pirra.

“No time,” she replied.

He attempted to send in a jolt to overload it – just enough to disable it and stop its own sensing.  There was a sweet spot in there that he knew from experience would burn it out.

It tripped.  He’d sent in too much.

He let out a gasp and jerked back.

The bomb didn’t explode.

He opened his eyes to see that he was still looking at the ship itself, and the ugly brick of a bomb that had nearly killed them all.

“Sir?  Sir?” Pirra said.  “You shut it off!”

“No,” Urle answered her, a bitter taste in his mouth.  “I didn’t.  We just got lucky.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 33 | Ep 2 Part 35 >

---

The only sounds in the medlab were the whirring of water in the medical tank.

Cenz was in there still, unmoving.  At least his limbs – at least a few of his polyps were now moving in a way that seemed healthy.  Their color had even started to return.

But he still didn’t know if that meant much.  Cenz’s species required a certain number of polyps to be alive and aware to actually achieve a complex level of consciousness.  Alone, each polyp was only a fraction of a being.  If most of the polyps didn’t survive, then, would that be the end of their Science Officer?

He had no idea, and he hated that.

Their medical records were dense and complex; it was so rare that a human ever needed to deal with them in this way that there just hadn’t been a lot made available and digestible.

He would just have to rely on the medical computer.  It was not Dr. Y, though, and for a moment he wished the laws of the Sapient Union were more lenient on artificial intelligences like their doctor.  He’d give half his augments just for the doctor’s consultation right now.

But that wasn’t an option, and he would just have to work with what he had on hand.

He was doing his best, but the familiar old shame of inadequacy haunted him.  He should be better than this.  He’d pushed himself all his life to be the best he could be.

He’d sacrificed half of his biological body to better himself.  And yet here he sat again, feeling it hadn’t been enough.

Quadruple-checking Cenz and then all the medical systems, he knew he was still on-duty as shift officer.  Absently, he began to look over the sensor logs, hoping for the vast quantities of data to scrub his mind of his own feelings.

The computers did this automatically, sorting what seemed relevant from what was extraneous.  Who needed to know about vacuum purity logs?

He did, of course.  He much preferred to take in the raw data logs and let his own personal filters sort them.  And he set a different bar for relevancy; many things the computer did not consider important to share he’d look at.

Better to be sure.  He had the processing power for it.

He caught an odd fluctuation.  The vacuum outside the ship had registered spikes of gas.  That typically meant an airlock leaking, but this was on the outer side of the vessel, away from the airlock.

Focusing on that, Urle saw that the spikes of gas density, when traced back along a path, occurred in a line, along the side of the hull.  But they stopped just around halfway down her length.  After that just short little bursts . . . before heading back.

That would only match a person or drone operating a thruster system.  But they were in private docking, and the system was set to warn him of any being approaching the ship like that.

Quickly he flipped through the logs, searching for any relevant information.

Then he jumped out of his chair.

“Captain!” he said over an open channel.  “Someone’s put something on our hull.”

Brooks came back a moment later.  “Repeat?  Are we under attack?”

“Don’t know, Captain.  Someone got into our system somehow.  They used a flaw in our hardware to file a standard hard-vac inspection ticket, but got it marked as unimportant so our system didn’t inform us.  They stopped at our midline, and when they left I believe they were lighter – like they left something behind.”

Brooks came back.  “Can you send a drone?”

“If they were this good, I think they’d be ready for that.  I want to check it personally.”

Brooks considered.  “Do it,” he said.  “Take someone else rated for this kind of work with you.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 32 | Ep 2 Part 34 >

---

Apollonia felt light-headed as the aide told her to follow him.

He was grim, and she wondered if the . . . thing . . . had spoken to her honestly.  If it had even gotten a chance to talk to Captain Brooks.

Maybe she was being taken to the airlock.  The Governor might be wanting to kill her rather than let her go.

Lord knew the man had hated her from the moment she’d come onto the station.

It was the same everywhere she’d been, though.  People disliked her from the moment they met her.  Just something about her – no matter how much she’d tried to overcome it, once people made their judgments they were hard to change.

They came to a juncture.  To take the left path would lead to the more public docking stations.  The right would lead to the more deserted airlocks.  Where she could be disposed of quietly.

Part of her wanted to fight, to not go down easily.

But enough of her still wanted it to be over, to let the end come.  She wouldn’t have the will to fight hard, to the bitter end.

She was almost disappointed as they went left.

Moments after, she felt a burning sense of fear that left her knees weak.  The possibility of her own end was overwhelming, and yet it had been averted.

She heard a sound and looked over.  She often heard them, but they were nothing – a literal figment of her mind.

But this time it was real.  It was a person noticing her.  He’d dropped the box he was carrying, and it had floated into the wall.  He was just staring at her.

Another man stopped, looking first to him quizzically, but then his gaze was drawn to her.  He leaned in to whisper something to his friend.

It didn’t even surprise her at this point.  She smiled to them, a smile laced with threat, and they wilted away.

At least that part was amusing.  Until people started throwing stones.

They were now in one of the busier parts of the station, an area she rarely had frequented.  The brightness was exotic to her, and she looked around.  Would the ship that Brooks commanded be like the colony?  Smaller, maybe?

The aide stopped.  “My instructions are to take you to this ship and observe you boarding.  You are not to return to the colony.”  He regarded her with a confused look.  Part of him seemed to be drawn to her, another part seemed revolted.

“What about my belongings?” she asked.

“I was not informed of-“

“I’m kidding, I don’t own a damn thing.”  She gave the man a look up and down.  “Don’t worry, I’m never coming back to this shithole again.”

She went towards the ship – or rather, the docking hatch.  The ship itself was on the other side of a thick wall that protected them all from the vacuum of the dock.  The image of it was just projected.

It wasn’t a big ship at all.  Did they really want her to live on that thing . . . ?

Going up to the airlock hatch, she wondered what she was supposed to do.

A voice came out.  “Identify yourself,” a computer voice said.

“Uh . . . I’m Apollonia Nor.  The Captain is expecting me.”

“You are not on the itinerary.  One moment.”

The airlock door opened almost immediately, surprising her – but then she realized just what it was that had opened the door.

The thing that called itself Kell stood there, watching her impassively.

“Are you going to let me in?” she asked.  He was blocking the way.

Without a word, the being turned and moved back in.

It didn’t push off anything.  It simply moved . . . the body was an illusion.  Real and physcial constructions, yet a lie.  The true thing, the . . . Shoggoth . . . was nothing like it.

Slowly, she followed.  The airlock door behind her closed and the one at the other end opened.

Brooks was there, looking surprised.

“Thank you, Ambassador,” he said with surprising calm to the being.

Part of her wanted to scream to him that he should be afraid of that thing, not act nice to it.  But she didn’t voice the words.  Too many people had said things like that about her for it to ever sit right with her.

“Captain,” she said.  “I was brought here.  Am I now your prisoner?”

“No,” Brooks assured her.  “There’s no evidence to make any charges of murder stick in a real court.  The Governor has asked that we take you off this colony – and we will do that.  If you then decide you do not wish to join my ship’s crew, then we will be fine dropping you off wherever you wish when we next make port.”

She wasn’t sure she believed that.  People generally were not this nice – unless they were pretending.

“All right,” she said.  “I’ll come along.”

It wasn’t like she had a choice.

---

< Ep 2 Part 31 | Ep 2 Part 33 >

---

Taking a few moments to compose himself, Nec dialed up the SU ship.

“Governor Nec Tede calling for Captain-Mayor Brooks,” he said.

A moment later, the Captain appeared.

“Governor.  Have you any word about my missing people?”

So they hadn’t gotten back yet, just as Rem had said.  “We’ve found some sign of them, Captain.  They’ve wandered deep into the asteroid – we have a lot of areas that are drilled but not yet occupied.”

The Captain’s face tightened.  “Even so, it’s been almost twenty-four hours, Governor.  I refuse to believe that your people are this incapable.”

Anger spiked in him, but the Governor tried to keep his words soothing.  “As I said, it’s a big asteroid.  We believe in the individual’s rights here, Captain – if people want to mine on their own, so long as they have the permits they can do it.  We haven’t even mapped it all out.”  Some of his anger squeezed out.  “But I have to ask – what were your people doing wandering so far?  We have warnings posted all over the place about the dangers of getting lost.”

Brooks hesitated – just a moment – but Nec caught it.  “I’m not sure.  But yesterday, for a time we detected a second homing signal that matched that of our craft – coming from within the colony.  It could have been used to lure my people away from the ship.”

“I didn’t hear anything about that,” Nec said, feeling thrown on the defensive again.  “But if it did happen, then it must have been an accident.  People got excited about your arrival – probably just trying to emulate the outsider.”  He grimaced.  “It’s one of the downsides of being isolated – people start to think everything foreign is better.”

“I’d like a full investigation into that,” Brooks said.  “I should think you would, too.  If it’s one of the enemies from the other colonies you’ve spoken of, this would be a chance to find them.”

“Ah, that’s a good point,” Nec replied.  “You’ve got yourself a good head there, Captain-Mayor.”

Brooks didn’t seem to even take in the compliment.  “Meanwhile, Governor, I’d like to continue our discussion about Apollonia Nor.  I’d like to see a full report of your evidence against her.”

“Oh.”  Nec took a moment to consider.  He hadn’t really formalized anything about the woman into a report; it wasn’t the sort of detail he generally bothered to track.

“I’ve been considering that, Captain-Mayor.  I’ve decided that, if you’re willing to take her off the colony, I’ll drop the charges.”  Rem had said to get the Captain to let his guard down, hadn’t he?

“That’s very generous of you,” Brooks replied.  “But you seemed convinced she had murdered your former head of security.  Why just drop the charges?”

“Captain-Mayor, you wanted her.  I want her gone – it’s no matter to me if it’s warm or cold.  Will you take her?”

“Yes,” Brooks replied.  “But I’d still like to know what evidence you have of her killing your former security chief.”

“Ah, just motive and her . . . gifts, as you like to call them.  She and the old chief never got along.  Violently so.”

“That’s it?” Brooks asked.

“Yes,” Nec hissed, his patience straining.  “Besides, I want to show you I’m willing to work with you, Captain.  Have you considered my requests?”

“Yes,” Brooks replied.  But he did not elaborate.  “If you do this Governor, I’ll consider it an act of good faith and it will reflect well upon you.  This, and having my people returned unharmed.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Nec said, giving his best smile.  “I’ll do everything in my power, you have my word.”

Brooks didn’t smile back as he ended the call.

---

< Ep 2 Part 29 | Ep 2 Part 31 >

---

Pirra heard shouts, but she couldn’t make out the one voice.  There was something strange about it, but she couldn’t tell what.  It just sounded off.

Then the screams started.

And the shooting came right after.  There were no controlled bursts, just full-auto.

The screams were short, agonized.  She heard crashes and impacts so loud that she could hear the bones breaking.

An object came flying through the gap and she threw herself back, letting out a sound that was half scream and half battle cry.

It was a human body, tumbling like a ragdoll.

It was flying like it had been shot from a cannon, hitting the wall with a sickening sound that was at once a splat and the shattering of bone.

The body rebounded, its momentum so great that it flew back out.  She could peer carefully out at it, where it had slid to a stop, four meters back into the other room.  The man was dead, there could be no doubt.  The force had mangled the body so much it was barely recognizable as a human.

She had seen bodies fly like that before, in industrial accidents, when vehicles or heavy machinery went awry.  But it was never less shocking to see, and she could not account for what could have done it.  Had there even been industrial equipment out there?

Footsteps approached, and Pirra tried to heft the rifle against whatever was now coming after them.

Kell leaned between the pipes.  The Ambassador’s face was perfectly calm, but there was no hiding the blood that was splattered across it.  Red blood.  Human blood.

“We must return to the ship,” it said.  Looking down to Cenz, Kell leaned over and took the being, moving the Coral like he weighed nothing.

Pirra couldn’t make words, but nodded.  Kell left, pulling Cenz with him.

Pirra stepped out and saw the carnage, what was left of the dozen men that had been out here.  Her eyes were drawn to the Ambassador.

There was a smile on its face.

---

“What the fuck are you telling me?” Nec Tede screamed at the image of his security chief.

Hoc Rem did not even blink.  “The security team I dispatched to check on the first team are all dead, Governor.”

“You said that the Coral was out of its suit, badly wounded, and probably dying.  Are you telling me that two xenos, one of them dying, killed a dozen men?!”

“We see some signs of a firefight, but that’s not what killed the men,” Rem replied evenly.

“Then what did?”  A fear stabbed into his chest, making it tighten painfully.  His head felt like it was swimming.

“We’re not sure, but it appears that blunt trauma and cervical fractures were responsible for their deaths.”

“What?” the Governor demanded.  The words weren’t too big for him, but in his current state he couldn’t parse that out.

“Crushed or broken necks,” Rem clarified.  Something in his words sounded tired, as if he was explaining this to a child.  “The squad leader was nearly decapitated – that is, his head was almost removed.”

Nec Tede felt ready to explode on the man.  How dare he?

But the man continued before Nec could get his thoughts in order.

“I understand this is alarming news, Governor, but do not be concerned.  I have a plan that will solve these issues.  This scene is fresh, and I don’t believe they have reached their ship yet.  I need you to contact the Captain-Mayor and keep him and his people calm.  Get them to lower their guard – promise whatever you have to.  We don’t need long.”

Nec’s eyes narrowed.  “What’s your plan?”

“It’s better if you don’t know, Governor.”  Rem’s expression did not change, but the way he tilted his head back made it seem mocking.

With a great effort, fueled by his own fear, Nec nodded.  “I’ll keep them busy.”

Rem cut the line.

Nec Tede slammed his fist onto the console.  Once, then again and again.

Everything was going out of his control.  When he’d first hired Hoc Rem, the man had seemed perfect – not only good with a gun and administration, but he’d known people all over the outer colonies, including his shadowy contacts.  He had brokered the deal for the cloning equipment and only cared about money, which meant his motives were at least clear.  But now the man had his own agenda, it was obvious.  And he was hiding things – always a bad sign.

But what could he do?  He was in up to his neck.  Even if he’d never gotten into this crazy cloning plan, he’d still just be the leader of a dying colony, with no hope of a future.  Any day, he knew, Ban and his cutthroats in Old Vitriol could come in here and take over, and bring his head back to his cousin.  His own blood, his own ancestry tracing back to the fucking idiot prophet that had brought them to this fucking shitty system, had marked him for life.

And now they’d involved these SU officers.  If they died, if word got back, that would be it.  No more external trade – at best.  The possibility that they’d come in with more ships than he had people and just arrest him and send him off to some penal colony was also possible.  And there, he thought, it’d be even easier for Ban to kill him.

If they did that – in a moment of clarity, he realized he had no idea what they did with prisoners.  He’d never been outside of the system, and everything he knew about the SU presented them as naive, soft, but possessing overwhelming ships and people when they were angry.  It was how they’d beaten the Aeena, beaten the Latarren, sheer numbers.

None of the serials ever showed what they did with their prisoners, though.  For all he knew they ground them up into nutrient paste for their algae vats.

A dull throbbing pain burned in his hand, and he realized he’d probably fractured a bone with his rampage.

He had to calm down.  There were still ways to salvage this.  And right now, he had no choice but to trust Hoc Rem.

---

< Ep 2 Part 28 | Ep 2 Part 30 >