Episode 16

"Talk about a total ghost town," Taro muttered.

They were idling in front of the Stargate that would lead them to their next delivery destination. Back near Alba Station, the gates had been so choked with traffic they practically overflowed. Here, Taro could count fewer than ten ships in the vicinity.

"The Peta Star System... ah, looks like it's what they call a Depleted Star System," Marl said, her eyes flicking across the Neural Network search results on her display.

Taro tilted his head, a metaphorical question mark practically popping into existence over his hair. Koume’s mechanical mouth whirred as she provided the answer.

"Mr. Teiro, a Depleted Star System is exactly what it sounds like. These systems were originally settled for the purpose of mining an Asteroid Belt, but once the ore veins were sucked dry, the system lost its economic value."

"An Asteroid Belt... oh, like those floating space rocks? Is it because there’s no gravity that they’re easy to work in?"

"For specific ores, yes," Marl replied. "But some materials are actually easier to refine under gravity, so they usually mine those on actual planets."

Taro nodded, absorbing the info. "I see, I see."

"Still, digging out an entire Asteroid Belt... I can’t even wrap my head around that scale. Oh, wait. They just process the rocks right there and turn the hollowed-out husks into stations? What kind of insane construction project is that?"

Taro scrolled through the Neural Network site Marl had shared. Once he confirmed the ship was being handled automatically by the Beacon Program, he kicked his seat back and sprawled out.

"If they’re literally hollowing out entire mini-planets, resource development doesn't sound like it makes much of a profit," Taro mused, glancing at the massive sun burning on the main display.

Marl let out a sharp laugh. "You’ve got to be joking."

"Maybe for Common Metal, but the demand for Razor Metal is skyrocketing every year," she continued. "The Imperial Center has been picked clean. Now they have to haul the stuff in from the Outer Rim. Prices are trending upward like some kind of sick joke."

Taro rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Which means..."

"If we mine out here and sell in the center, we’d be filthy rich. We could even get a slice of the transport pie... wait, no. Our ship can’t carry enough for that to matter. Unless we only moved the high-end stuff, like gold?"

"Mmm, maybe. It’d be a decent chunk of change, sure, but nobody’s going to trust a total nobody with that kind of cargo. In a perfect world, we’d do the mining ourselves, but the big corporations have the mining rights in a total stranglehold."

"Aaaah, figures. That makes sense... wait, I’m starting to see the big picture now." Taro let out a devious grin.

Marl shot him a bewildered look.

"No, see, I’ve been wondering about this for a while. Everyone says Outer Space is like a lawless land of carnage, right? I couldn't figure out why anyone would abandon a perfectly comfortable life just to dive into a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It’s not just about the resources—there are tons of untouched concessions out there just waiting to be grabbed, aren't there?"

"An astute observation," Koume said.

"You’re surprisingly sharp sometimes, Mr. Teiro. As you suspect, Outer Space is a frontier where one can dream of getting rich quick. The only catch is that you have to be strong enough to defend your own resources and rights."

"The 'sometimes' was unnecessary, Koume-chan. But speaking of self-defense—how does everyone actually manage it? Doing everything in-house seems impossible. Is it like... corporate unions?"

"Look at you, being all 'sometimes sharp' again," Marl teased. "But yeah, you're right. It’s common for companies to team up for joint ventures. They call them a Union. Sure, you’ve got giants like Gigantech Corp who do everything themselves, but they’re the exception. To be honest, though, no one really knows how they operate out in deep space."

"Trade secrets, huh? Well, if everyone knew the trick, everyone would copy it. Makes sense. Also, Marl-tan, the 'sometimes' was definitely unnecessary." Taro wagged an index finger at her.

"Oh, looks like the Jump Drive is engaging," Marl said, completely ignoring him.

"Total shut out!?"

The world dissolved into a haze of light.

Taro’s very sense of self became a blurred, vague smear across the cosmos. Then, as the light dispersed, reality snapped back into a hard, uncompromising shape.

"We've arrived—BLLLLLEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!"

"Gross! You threw up again!?" Marl recoiled. "Seriously, aren't you used to this yet?"

Taro writhed as a wave of pure misery washed over his body. He doubled over toward the Dust Chute and emptied his stomach again.

"N-no... I’m... way better than... the first time... UUUUUURRRRRRPPPP-BARRRRFFFF!!"

"Ugh, either talk or puke! Pick one!"

"Huff... puff... if I could... choose to only talk... I would have done it ten seconds ago! The contents are coming up on full-auto! Is this what they call a 'Vomiting Pilot'? Shut up—O-RRRRRROOOOOOOORRRRRRRGGGGGHHH!!"

"Why are you putting your life on the line just to make a stupid joke...?"

Taro spat out the last bit of bitter bile and collapsed into his seat like a wet rag.

"Jump Sickness, you called it? Damn it. I don't care if it was the Galactic God or whoever, they didn't need to invent this. Hey, Koume-san. When do I finally get my space legs?"

Koume began wiping away the acidic mess with a towel. "Tolerance for Jump Sickness varies by individual, but most become accustomed to it after three or four trips. However, Mr. Teiro, your reaction appears significantly more severe than the norm. Most people simply experience a mild dizzy spell."

"Ugh, so I'm just a special case? I really wish I hadn't asked... Wait. Huh? Does something look weird to you guys?"

"The only thing weird around here is you," Marl sighed.

"No, not that. Look. Where are we? What are all those floating rocks?"

Marl started to give him her usual "stop joking" look, but when she saw the genuine confusion on Taro's face, she immediately triggered a wide-area scan.

"What?! No way... did the jump fail? We're nowhere near the target!"

Taro checked the scan results as Marl’s voice climbed an octave in panic.

"Old Asteroid Belt Area... basically the squeezed-out dregs of a dead mine. Marl, give me a detailed scan, please."

Taro glanced at the sea of rocks cluttering the display and primed the debris-incineration lasers. Using the detailed data Marl provided, he began picking off the boulders obstructing their flight path.

"No large structures nearby. Koume-san, I thought the Jump Drive was a 'point A to point B' system between Stargates?"

Koume checked the ship's vitals while answering. "Affirmative, Mr. Teiro. The Jump Drive is a 'push-and-pull' maneuver executed by two Stargates. This is merely a hypothesis, but there may have been a malfunction at the destination gate."

"So we just got unlucky? Does this happen a lot?"

"Negative, Mr. Teiro. The probability of such a failure is approximately one in ten to the fifteenth power. Given the total number of Stargates in existence, this is an exceptionally rare occurrence."

Taro groaned. Even as a space-faring rookie, he understood that "one in a quadrillion" meant they were officially in the middle of a disaster.

"Hey, Teiro," Marl said, her voice trembling. "Can you get a hold of the other ships? This debris is heavy-metal based—it’s messing with my Call Signs and the Analyzer. If we aren't careful, we’re going to slam into someone."

Taro opened the BISHOP interface and pulled up the list of identification signal replies. The screen was a mess of scrambled, noise-filled data packets that looked like digital gibberish.

"That’s a hell of a lot of interference... Okay, I’m extracting the hits. Wait, what? This can’t be right. There are over twenty ships out there."

Taro frowned, remembering that only ten ships had been at the gate with them. He kept digging through the scan results, filtering out the ghost echoes and sensor reflections.

"Twenty-eight... this is a mess. Koume, I’ve got four signals that are definitely ships. Can you open a channel?"

"Understood, Mr. Teiro. Bringing the four nearest vessels online."

Static hissed in Taro’s ears, followed by a chorus of voices.

"...Whoa, is this thing on? This is Call Sign B112."

"...Repeat...ing... Call Sign C111. I repeat, this is Call Sign C111."

"Call Sign C164. This is Call Sign C164."

"What the hell is going on? This is Call Sign D024. Does anyone copy?"

"This is... uh, what was it? Oh, right. Call Sign Route. This is Call Sign Route. It looks like our jump failed. What’s the situation on your end?"

"Hold on a sec," the voices replied in unison. A moment later, a stream of ship data began flowing into Taro’s BISHOP.

Okay... this signal is from that ship... that one’s a reflection... which means...

Taro used the incoming data to recalibrate his scan, refining the results with surgical precision.

"Keep the lines open," Taro commanded. "I’m uploading the scan data now. We’ve still got a lot of UNKNOWNS, but this should at least give you everyone’s relative positions."

"This is C111. Data received. Damn, your ship has a hell of an Analyzer. Mine is total junk. You want to take temporary command?"

"This is Route. Uh, sure, I guess. Just fair warning: I’m doing most of this analysis manually."

"This is C164. C111 is way too close to our vector. Can you tell them to back off?"

"Route here. Copy that, C164. C111, please shift your course to the starboard side."

"This is C111. Copy, Route. But 'a bit' doesn't help me much. Give me hard numbers."

"Uh, Koume, a little help... C111, coordinates sent. Marl, run the scan again. No matter how I crunch the numbers, I keep getting twenty-eight signals."

Taro gripped his controls, trying to stop his hands from shaking. The pressure was starting to get to him.

"I kind of stepped into the commander role here, but I have no idea what I’m actually supposed to be doing. Can’t you guys talk to each other directly?" Taro asked, desperately looking for an exit strategy.

"I don't think they can," Marl said. "Even with our tech, we’d be flying blind if it weren't for your information processing. Seriously, I’ve been wondering for a while now, but is your brain—"

"HELP ME! IT'S WIND! THE WIND ARE HERE!"

A scream tore through the comms, cutting Marl off. Taro jumped in his seat, his eyes locking with Marl’s.

"Mr. Teiro," Koume’s voice was cold and logical. "Regarding your calculation of twenty-eight signals. Is it possible that was not, in fact, an error?"

Marl swallowed hard. Taro looked at the screen, his voice barely a whisper.

"Enemies... the place is crawling with them!"

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The protagonist isn't necessarily cursed with bad luck... usually. See you in the next one!