My rocket wasn't the last to join Myriad. Buzz and his builders had come up to do what they did best, and over the next several days they transformed the station from a lose amalgamation of modules into something entirely new: a spacecraft with multiple stages in its own right. When Promo joined us on Myriad 15, he did so with extra tanks still holding enough fuel to move a station across the orbital threshold between binary planets. We weren't just taking a lunar lander against an army of null devils, after all. We needed some extra hardware.

Rava and Raphina were close neighbors, closer than Earth and Luna. Coupled with lower gravity than Earth and a stronger upward pull than Luna, we'd be getting a lot more bang for our buck than any of the Apollo flights. NASA never had to wage a war on the moon, after all, and their trip was being funded by taxpayers. The cost to get even a kilogram of material to Luna's surface and back is measured in tens of thousands of dollars. It's hard to justify taking a full armory and hundreds of goblins to wield it to your average American.

After a dozen EVAs to check connections and mountings, we were ready to start the next phase of the plan.

I radio'd down to the bluff. "Canaveral, this is Myriad Actual. We're locked and ready for trans-Raphina injection burn."

"Good copy, boss! Your window is coming up," said Harris, back down on the ground.

From the mission control module, I could see the various parts of Myriad Station, which we'd divided into three main structures, each powered by a set of multiple rocket motors. I could see several goblins in EVA suits still floating around. I groaned and pulled away from the microphone. "Buzz, give the recall order."

"Did already, boss," said Buzz. He shrugged. "Some jus' want to ride outside's, all. Suspect they's having some convenient radio issues, if you catch my meaning, king."

Well, at least they were tethered. But I had a feeling most of those goblins were going to regret their life choices. When I gave the order to strap in for the burn, a 100-choom length of cord connected to the outside of the station wasn't what I'd had in mind, even if it was technically a strap. I pressed the push-to-talk switch again. "We're good here, Canaveral."

"The bugs say you can start your burn."

"Copy, starting burn."

I reached forward and hit the switch for my rocket motor. Raphina loomed overhead, but we weren't headed straight for her. Instead, we were using her gravity for a little boost and then taking the scenic route around the planet as we climbed out of low orbit. The station rumbled around me, and I started to drift back against my chair. Loose goblins began squawking as a semblance of gravity returned following days or weeks of free fall. Some of the goblins on board had never felt Rava's gravity.

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Outside, the station started to pull away from the unfortunate onlookers who had elected to take front-row seats. Beyond them, the port and starboard sections of Myriad turned on their rocket motors as well. The bright starbursts of the multiple rocket motors flared to life on the other two station sections.

"Solid burn, boss," called Eileen.

"Feelin' good bout this one, boss," said Chuck.

"Alright, set course and stay tight."

Buzz pressed his face to the glass beside me. "Oops," he said.

"Oops?" I asked. "What oops?"

"Somma' the lads," said Buzz, scratching the fur on his head. "Are slow to grasp that tethers got to be tied at both ends."

I looked out the window. There were significantly fewer goblins space-walking than before—or rather, significantly fewer that hadn't been left floating in space. The ones who had managed to remember to secure their tethers were now at the end of taut lines being pulled by the station.

I kept the burn going. As we circled Rava for the last time, we climbed up. We continued climbing after we lost contact with Canaveral and then lost sight of Raphina. When we caught sight of the luminous moon cresting the horizon of the planet once again, we'd pushed out of low orbit. Rava was noticeably smaller in the viewports. Its surface, shrouded by a thick, humid atmosphere had become murky and indistinct. Raphina didn't look any bigger, but over the next two days, it would start to seem like much, much more than just a moon.

The radio crackled as we regained Canaveral.

"Bugs have you in sight, boss!" called Harris. It was hard to hear him over the whooping and cheering in mission control. Their celebrations and excitement for each successful launch was dwarfed only by their cheers and excitement when one of the rockets exploded, instead. "Track looks good. Enjoy the moon!"

"Thanks Canaveral," I said.

"Got someone here for ye,"

"Oi, boss,"

I recognized the voice. "Neil, you survived?"

"Oh aye, a javeline broke my fall."

"What?" I asked, sputtering, "A… a javeline?"

"Oh yeah. Don't worry, I rode to Habberport and hitched a ride with the bugs from there."

"Rode on what, exactly?"

"Don' worry 'bout it, bossman."

I had so many questions. But for the moment, I was just relieved and astounded that Neil had managed to not only direct his fall but had found his way back to safety. But I suppose if there was one goblin I'd trust to safely navigate the dangers of Lanclova, it was Neil. Plus, it seemed like the fall immunity really did have no limits. Neil had plummeted from the very edge of space and still survived with nothing but his suit. Still, as the now ranking task-master of the tribe.

"Neil, you're in charge of the tribe. Take care of things down there while I'm gone."

"Nah."

I sat up. "Excuse me?"

"Rather go fishin' with the lads. Boom-fruit fishin'."

I opened my mouth for a moment, and then closed it, considering. "You know what?" I said. "We wouldn't be on the way to the moon right now without you. Go fishing. In fact, that's an order. Is Luther there?"

There was a scuffle on the other end of the connection and my canonneer taskmaster came on.

"I'm here, majesty. What words have you from on high?"

"Add this to the canon: tomorrow is going to be a national holiday," I said. "Lunar injection day. All members of Tribe Apollo have the day off from normal duties."

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Off Days>

The goblins in the space station gasped in unison, looking at each other with wide eyes.

The leadership debate could wait until the next business day.

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