Chapter 109

A small ship drifted at a snail’s pace into the docking bay of a space station perched on the ragged edge of Enzio Alliance Territory. This particular vessel was practically a fossil, a model nearly two generations behind the curve. It was the kind of merchant ship that had once been the Imperial Military’s favorite workhorse—the sort of thing you could still find cluttering up every corner of the galaxy. Spaceship Universe Corp had long since shuttered the production lines for this specific bucket of bolts, yet irony was a cruel mistress: they were currently making more money selling spare parts for these relics than they were selling their shiny new models.

"Welcome to Ottone Station. Step aside, I’m here to poke through your cargo," one of the station administrators called out, strolling past the ship’s owners.

"You got it, pal! It’s a bit of a haul, but I’m sure you’ll handle it with style!" Taro chirped back, his voice an octave too high. He turned and marched toward the lobby, his legs moving with a robotic stiffness as he tried to keep his internal panic from leaking out.

"Ahaha! I know you’re sweating bullets, but try to keep it together. Be the background noise, Taro. Natural vibes only," Phantom said, his tone uncharacteristically breezy in an attempt to settle Taro’s nerves.

"No can do. Impossible. Honestly? I want to go home. Right now. Please," Taro hissed. He glanced back with the jerky, wide-eyed movements of a man who realized he was standing in the middle of a shark tank.

Phantom just gave him a pitying, wry smile. "Relax. They won’t catch us. The IDs, the ship’s registry—the forgeries are so good it’s terrifying. I used to think I was the gold standard for this kind of thing, but it looks like our boy is playing a different game entirely."

Phantom tapped the ID card stitched to his chest with a rhythmic click-click. I hope you’re right, Taro thought, sending a silent, desperate prayer toward the Plum II, where Alan—the master forger in question—was currently lounging.

[ID VERIFICATION... GREEN. PLEASE PROCEED THROUGH THE GATE.]

The narrow inspection gate was barely wide enough for a single human to squeeze through. Once Taro cleared it, he didn't just sit; he essentially liquefied, melting onto a nearby bench like a puddle of pure stress. Phantom watched him, wearing a grin he couldn't quite suppress. A moment later, Marl arrived, Koume tucked under her arm. She looked down at the heap that was Taro and let out a long, theatrical sigh.

"Seriously? You’ve got balls of steel when you're negotiating a business deal, but put you in a trench coat and you turn into a trembling leaf. It’s actually kind of impressive how quickly you crumble," Marl said, her face a mask of cool indifference as she started walking.

"Big Sister! Wait! Don't leave me here to die!" Taro wailed pathetically. He scrambled to his feet and began tailing her with the posture of a kicked puppy. Behind them, Taiki, their supposed guard, was doing a poor job of hiding the fact that his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

"Right then, we’re splitting up as planned," Phantom said, checking the back of his hand with a casual flick. "Don’t wait for me to rendezvous. Head for the departure gate whenever you're ready. I’ll aim to be on time, but if things go south, leave me behind. I’ll manage."

A digital clock, displayed on a transparent sticker adhered to his skin, ticked away the seconds with pinpoint accuracy. With a quick swipe, Phantom deactivated the display, and it vanished.

"Manage? How are you even—never mind," Taro started to retort, but he bit his tongue. The reality was that if Phantom couldn't handle it, nobody could. The man was a professional ghost.

"Fine, fine. I get it. But man, 'undercover investigation' sounds way cooler in the movies. In reality, it just gives me an ulcer."

Taro waved a reluctant goodbye as Phantom, now perfectly disguised in the drab coveralls of a common laborer, disappeared into the crowd. Taro and Marl were left standing at the entrance of what was "allegedly" the station’s commercial district, dressed in civilian clothes that had been the height of fashion roughly a decade ago.

"So... is this really it? The commercial district?" Taro asked, squinting into the gloom.

The arcade was a ghost town. It was a bleak, desolate stretch of shuttered storefronts and peeling paint. Most of the shops looked like they hadn't seen a customer since the last century. By any logical metric, they should have been open for business, but the place had the distinct, depressing energy of a dying mall. It’s a shuttered street, Taro thought glumly.

"It’s so... lonely," Marl observed, glancing up at the ceiling. To save power, every other light fixture had been deactivated, casting long, eerie shadows across the path. Trash and old flyers tumbled across the floor like urban tumbleweeds, and the few pedestrians they did see moved with the sluggish, hollow-eyed gait of the terminally exhausted.

"Man, talk about a recession. I guess being on the border of the EAP means the blockade hit this place like a freight train," Taro muttered.

Any business here would have relied on trade with the neighboring systems. Cut that off, and you were looking at a corporate massacre. Most companies didn't have enough padding to survive losing half their clients overnight.

"We definitely need to keep a low profile here. But how are we supposed to gather info? Do we just start interrogating people?" Taiki asked, his eyes scanning the area for threats.

"Nah," Taro said, rubbing his chin. "Phantom’s the heavy hitter for info. We’re just here to corroborate whatever he finds. Amateurs like us shouldn't poke the beehive. Let's just... I don't know, find a place to eat?"

The logic was simple: Phantom, the former Imperial Military spec-ops pro, would get the hard data. Taro and Marl would soak up the local vibe. Besides, Taro had a businessman’s eye for things soldiers might miss. If they could get the same story from two different sources, they’d know they were onto the truth.

"It is lunchtime," Marl noted, pointing toward a large restaurant a short distance away. "That place seems to have a lot of foot traffic. Let's try there."

Taro didn't see any reason to argue. "Works for me."

But as soon as they stepped inside, Taro’s heart sank. "...Well, this is going to take all day."

A massive, serpentine line snaked through the lobby. The actual dining area appeared to be on the second floor. Customers were queuing up at the first-floor counters to order, receiving what looked like tickets before boarding an escalator.

"Actually, this is a light day," a friendly-looking man in front of Taro said, glancing back over his shoulder. "Yesterday, the line was twice this long."

Taro jumped, his instincts screaming ENEMY SPY, but he forced himself to relax. This was a golden opportunity. "R-really? This place must be incredible then. You a regular?"

"Lately, I don't have much choice," the man sighed. "My office is two blocks over, so it’s just barely close enough to walk."

"Two blocks? That’s a hell of a hike for lunch, isn't it?"

"Eh, it’s about twenty minutes. Some people are walking five blocks to get here. I can't really complain."

"Five blocks!? On foot!?" Taro blurted out. "That’s insane!"

The man laughed, though it sounded a bit tired. "It’s a pain, sure. But what can you do? The High-speed Vehicles have been offline for weeks, and this is the only spot in the sector that still accepts Ration Tickets."

"Ration Tickets? Wait... rations!? This is a soup kitchen!?"

Taro’s voice cracked with shock, loud enough to ring through the lobby. Suddenly, a dozen pairs of hollow eyes swiveled toward him. Taro froze, his internal monologue screaming ABORT, ABORT, YOU IDIOT! Fortunately, the crowd was too tired to care about a loud-mouthed tourist for more than a second, and they quickly returned to their miserable silence.

"Sorry, sorry! Ow! Hey! Watch the—GWAH!"

Taiki had jammed a claw into Taro's toe, and Marl followed up with a sharp slap to the back of his head. The man in front of them actually chuckled at the display.

"Tough crowd you've got there. Don't worry about the noise, though. It’s a cafeteria, not a library. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... this is just a Tuesday for me," Taro groaned, rubbing his head. "Sorry about that. But seriously, rations? We’ve only got cash on us."

"A Tuesday... right. Anyway, yeah. No ticket, no food. I thought everyone knew that by now." The man’s expression shifted, becoming curious. He looked around cautiously before leaning in close. "You guys aren't from around here, are you?"

Taro’s heart did a frantic tap-dance against his ribs, but he stuck to the script.

"Well... no. Not originally. The truth is, we just woke up from cold sleep yesterday. We’re totally out of the loop. What’s the deal with the rations? Ten years ago, you could buy a steak with credits anywhere on this station."

Taro did his best 'confused traveler' face. The man’s eyes widened, then softened into a look of pure pity.

"Ah, I see. You're an Iceman. That explains the clothes! I was wondering why you were wearing such an old-fashioned style. Nobody wears sleeves that go all the way to the wrist these days."

The man nodded sagely, eyeing Taro and Marl’s "vintage" outfits. Taro let out a mental breath of relief and scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

"And here I thought I looked sharp. Well, if it’s rations only, I guess we’re going hungry today. Thanks for the heads-up, though. Saved me the embarrassment of being kicked out of the line."

Taro flashed the kind of polished, "trust me" smile he’d perfected during years of corporate sales. He turned to leave, but the man reached out and stopped him.

"Hey, wait. Here. Take this. It expires tomorrow anyway, and I’ve got a spare."

The man held out a small digital chip. Taro’s eyes went wide. "Are you serious? Are you sure!?"

"My company had a good quarter, so they were generous with the bonuses. Besides, I don't have a family to feed or anyone to take out on a date... which is a depressing thought, now that I say it out loud." The man shrugged with a self-deprecating smile.

Taro took the chip, practically bowing in gratitude. "You’re a lifesaver, seriously. Thank you so much! Uh, look—if it’s not a huge bother, would you mind if we sat with you? We’re completely lost here, and I’d love to pick your brain about how things work now."