Episode 18

"……SURE THING!!"

Taro bolted upright with a strangled, bizarre shriek. He blinked, looking around restlessly, before realizing he was in the Plum’s infirmary.

"Good morning, Mr. Teiro. Just what kind of dreams were you having?"

At the voice echoing from directly above him, Taro jerked his neck back so hard he nearly got whiplash. "No, it’s just, the sunglasses were..."

Koume tilted her mechanical head, her optics whirring.

"How is your physical condition? The bio-scan results showed no abnormalities, though I cannot account for the state of your psyche. Additionally, the medical utility of surplus skin has been well-documented. Walk tall, sir."

"What are you even talking about!? Wait—no—I think I actually get it, so please don't say another word! I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear it!"

Taro held up a hand to silence Koume just as she was about to elaborate. He stood up, shaking off the weirdness. "I feel fine, anyway."

"Status?" he asked, throwing the short question over his shoulder as he headed for the exit.

"Of course, Mr. Teiro," Koume chirped. "We are currently mid-Warp Drive, making a long-distance jump toward our destination. Approximately eight hours have passed since you collapsed. Do you recall the individual with the Call Sign C111? He intentionally hacked the Neural Network in a manner designed to be detected, thereby establishing contact with the Imperial Government."

"Whoa, that’s one hell of a crazy gamble. And? Are they actually helping us?"

"Indeed. At one point, the government actually authorized an assassination mission against him, but it was reportedly withdrawn the moment the specific circumstances were clarified."

"Assassination? Well, that’s not very neighborly... I think I’m starting to get a feel for how the Empire handles its public order."

Taro reached the Central Command Room and stepped inside. Marl, who had been busy punching data into a display, spotted him and marched over in stony silence.

"Don’t you ever do something like that again without talking to me first," she snapped. "The least you could do is give me a heads-up."

"Look, it wasn't really something to worry—"

"We’re partners," Marl said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Or was I the only one who thought so?"

Taro’s voice died in his throat. He couldn't find a retort. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Hmph. See that you are. I mean, given the situation, maybe there wasn't a choice, and yeah, you basically saved our skins... so I’m sorry too. That was probably uncalled for."

Taro offered her a strained, crooked smile.

"No, you’re right. Besides, I'm not so sure I'm a hero. I just panicked and lost my cool. Looking back, those guys weren't even that tough, right? We probably could’ve just powered through them normally."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Mr. Teiro," Koume interjected. "It was you who decided to exit the Asteroid Belt and you who commanded the interception. While it is not inherently bad to obsess over 'what ifs,' this is an achievement you should be rightfully proud of."

Taro felt a weight lift off his chest at Koume's words. He apologized to Marl one more time before pulling up the external feed on the main display.

"In the end... I guess I was just underprepared and reckless. The reality of the situation was way different from the 'resolve' I thought I had."

Even though they were hurtling through space via warp, the stars on the screen looked the same as always. The galaxy was too vast, the stars too distant. Moving a few light-years barely changed the wallpaper.

"Well, you’re not wrong," Marl said, her gaze drifting. "I can say the same for myself. I think I was looking at this as an extension of the adventure stories I dreamed about as a kid... I need to do a better job of recognizing that this is reality."

"Yeah," Taro agreed, looking at her distant expression. "But hey, dreaming and adventuring aren't crimes. You throw away the romance, and you’re just some boring middle-aged guy."

Taro gave her a smirk and an utterly ill-fitting wink, making Marl bark out a laugh.

"What’s that supposed to mean? So if I stop dreaming, I’m just a boring middle-aged woman? No thank you! I guess I’ll keep chasing the dream as hard as I can, then."

"Heh, you do that. By the way, Marl-tan, you’ve been fiddling with BISHOP for a while now. What are you actually doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm managing the Overdrive Device. That C111 guy—Alan—managed to get the gate at our destination up and running. Since the Imperial Government gave the green light, they’re currently slaving the gate to our coordinates."

Taro nodded. Based on what Koume had told him before, gates worked on a 'push and pull' system. Right now, they were being 'pulled.' He brought up BISHOP to see if he could help, but his brain immediately stalled at the sight of the code.

"What the heck is this? This is the Overdrive control function... right? There are a ton of functions here I’ve never even seen before."

"Well, obviously. If we left it on the default settings, it would take days to get there. I 'tweaked' it so the main engine’s battery output is diverted directly into the drive unit."

"Tweaked it? In this much time?"

Marl stopped her work and looked at the stunned Taro. "It’s my 'Gift,'" she explained. "Mechanical Engineering Control. That’s what I’ve got. Believe it or not, I was hailed as a child prodigy back in the day."

"A Gift? Ah, right, you mentioned that once. You asked if I was a 'Gift-holder.' So that’s like... a special superpower talent thing?"

"Pretty much. It's not super rare, but it's what they call people whose BISHOP construction speed in a specific field hits an abnormal value."

"Huh. So that’s why you’re such a gearhead. Makes sense now. I thought it was crazy that you could dismantle a whole ship by yourself. At first, I thought you were a total fre—I mean, totally amazing."

Taro nodded vigorously, though he couldn't help but think about how much easier his time on that drifting wreck would have been if Marl had been there. Marl fell silent for a moment before whispering a soft "Thanks" and leaning back heavily into her pilot’s seat.

"But having that Gift is what gave me the wrong idea and made me think I could be a Salvager. If I’d just worked for a corporation like a normal person, I probably would’ve had a much better life... It took me until I was this old to realize that doing everything alone is just too hard."

"I see," Taro replied.

"But being a Salvager is cool. If you hit the jackpot, you’re set for life. Like we were just saying—it’s got 'romance,' right?"

"I guess... pfft, you’re probably the only person who’d say that. Everyone else calls it 'bottom-feeding' or 'gambling.' They say it's a shady, low-life business. If I’d been able to get a crew together, it might’ve been different, but I had too much damn pride for that."

"Got it... Wait, you said 'had' pride? Past tense?"

"Ahahaha, you’re mean, Teiro. But yeah. I’ll admit I'm not the most straightforward person."

Marl laughed as she stared at the ceiling. Taro watched her for a moment before pivoting the conversation.

"So, what was the actual cause of the mess? For an 'accident,' the timing of those thugs felt way too suspicious. I'm not interested in being 'Magnet for Trouble' guy."

"About that..." Marl sighed. "The word is that the WIND might have intentionally interfered. Apparently, new types of WIND have been cropping up all over the Empire lately. It wouldn't be a stretch to think there’s a variant out there that’s incorporated a Warp Jammer. Total nightmare."

"Ah, they just use whatever parts they find? They really are like Salvagers."

Taro chuckled as Marl snapped back with a "Don't you dare lump us together," and then he fell into thought. He worried that more people might end up like him—victims of the WIND. But at the same time, his inner manager noted that as a transporter, business would probably boom.

Maybe picking a military ship instead of a fast courier was the right call after all... he muttered to himself.

If they had a faster, lighter ship, they could have escaped, but they wouldn't have been able to protect the three ships currently following in the Plum’s wake. Taro knew he wasn't responsible for them, but he also knew he wouldn't have slept well if he'd left them to die.

"This is C111. You there, Boss?"

A voice crackled through BISHOP.

"Aye-aye. That you, Alan?" Taro replied.

"Yeah, it’s Alan. Good to meet ya, Boss. Just finished the talk with the Stargate Administration Bureau. They’re offering two million credits per ship in compensation. Personally, I think it’s a solid haul, but what do you think? The others said they’ll follow your lead."

"Two million... Whoa, that’s like ten round trips' worth of my current cargo. Uh, hold on—my Ministry of Finance is giving me the thumbs up, so let’s take it."

"Roger that. We’ll file for 100 for us and 500 for the Boss’s side. Your outfit is registered as a Corp, right? Since this got certified as a Government Mission, you’re gonna be sitting pretty for a while."

"Five hund—!!? No, no, hold on, half is way too much, bubaba—"

Taro tried to protest the absurdly high split, but Marl moved with the speed of a striking cobra, clamping her hand over his mouth.

"One... should... always... accept... charity, Teiro," she said, her smile so blindingly bright it was terrifying.

Seeing the sheer, unadulterated "purity" in her eyes, Taro felt a chill of genuine fear and nodded obediently. "Yes, ma'am."

Alan’s voice came through the comms again.

"Man, what a disaster for all of us, though. Before your ship saved us, I must've prayed to my mother five times. 'Please, Mama, save me!!' Pathetic, right?"

"Ahaha, well... wait. Ah, no. Yeah. Totally. I was praying in my heart too... Uh, sorry, I've got something to take care of. Talk later!"

Taro cut the line, ignoring Alan’s confused "What’s up?"

"So you have parents," Marl said from behind him. "Are they both still around? Back on Earth, I mean."

Taro flinched. He remembered she didn't have any family left.

"Well, as far as I remember... yeah, they should be."

"Should be? Heh, what a weird way to put it. I guess you just didn't keep in touch much. Do they look like you?"

"Huh? Oh... yeah. People always said we were the spitting image of each other. Anyway, I’m feeling a bit nauseous, so I’m gonna head back to my room, okay?"

Taro practically bolted from the command room. He heard Marl’s confused voice calling after him, but he pretended not to hear.

I knew it would come to this...

Taro let out a heavy sigh, the guilt of his first lie to Marl weighing on him.

He couldn't remember his parents' faces.

Despite knowing he should know them, he couldn't recall even a single fragment of what they looked like.