Chapter 209

"Of course it's possible! When you're trying to peep at the past, light is the ultimate snitch. It carries all sorts of juicy data across the cosmos," Dr. Arzimof chirped. "Even high-end detective agencies use optical trickery to sniff out clues for cold cases. Though, granted, they don't usually try to peer back through the eons quite like we archaeologists do."

At the Doctor’s confirmation, Taro and Marl’s faces lit up like they’d just hit the galactic lottery.

The pair were currently crammed into Dr. Arzimof’s laboratory in the Wyoming Star System, begging for a way to use light to play detective across time. The lab was its usual chaotic mess, with the same two assistants from the Alpha Star System looking like they were fighting a losing battle against a mountain of clutter.

"Doctor, I’m sorry to drop this on you out of nowhere, but we need this done yesterday," Taro said, dipping into a deep, apologetic bow. "The search for Earth might have to take a back seat for a bit, but..."

Marl followed suit, bending at the waist in a synchronized display of desperation. The Doctor just chuckled and waved them off with a breezy flick of his wrist.

"Oh, stop that. Even if I’m technically just a 'visiting' member, I’m still on the payroll. If it helps the company, I’m your man. Besides, I know I’m usually the one making ridiculous, expensive demands of you. It’s actually refreshing to contribute something with immediate, tangible results for once."

Arzimof offered the kind of warm, crinkly-eyed smile only a man with several centuries of wisdom—and probably a few hidden hobbies—could muster. Taro felt a sudden urge to just lean on the old man’s kindness, but he forced his expression to harden.

"We heard you found a solid lead on Earth," Taro said. "Normally, that should be our top priority, but I’ve funneled almost the entire budget into defense. It’s my own selfish call, really. I’m sorry for dragging you through the mud like this."

Taro bowed again. Dr. Arzimof watched him for a moment, then clasped his hands behind his back and stood up with a slow, deliberate groan of his joints.

"I’m not a complete fool, my boy. I don't harbor some delusion that research is the only thing that matters in this universe. I understand your position. Now, listen to your subordinate who talks too much for a moment—consider it the rambling of a bored old man if you must."

The Doctor began to pace the room, his footsteps echoing in the quiet clutter. Taro and Marl watched him like hawks.

"Archaeology," the Doctor began, sounding like he was back at a university podium, "is actually the study of the future. Knowing the past is just the tool we use; it’s never the end goal. We dig up the past to see how it shaped the present, so we can learn enough to build a future that isn't a complete disaster. I want to find the origins of humanity because I want to help us figure out where the hell we’re supposed to go next."

Taro hung on every word, not wanting to miss a single drop of the old man’s insight.

"If you had decided to just ignore those criminal facilities and let those people rot, I would have been deeply disappointed. In you, or perhaps in the human race as a whole. You’re young; you’re the ones building the world now. Whether you like it or not, that’s just how it is. At least, that’s how we old farts see it."

The Doctor’s sharp gaze locked onto Taro, then Marl. Taro gave a slow, solemn nod. Beside him, Marl did the same, her usual bubbly energy replaced by quiet resolve.

"If people commit a sin, and you have the chance to fix it, then by all means, go nuts. That’s what being human is all about. If people give you grief for it, ignore them. The ones who get it will follow you; the ones who don't will leave. It’s that simple. You can't have everything in this life, after all."

The Doctor suddenly split into a wide, mischievous grin and clapped his hands together with a loud smack.

"Alright, enough talk! We’ve got work to do and no time to do it! I’ve got the basic gear here, but if we’re in a rush, we’re going to need the big guns. If Gigantech is footing the bill, let’s make them bring their absolute best optical toys. People, cash, ships—strip them for everything they’ve got! If they’re going to use you, you might as well use them right back. That’s the 'corporate way,' isn't it? Now, scat! Use those young, springy legs of yours and get moving!"

He started shooing them toward the door with both hands. Taro managed a laugh, thanked him about a dozen times, and scrambled out of the room.

"Man, talk about a real 'grown-up,'" Marl sighed as they hurried down the corridor toward their ship. "Our company is so full of kids, he feels like a legendary rare drop."

"Tell me about it," Taro agreed. "Experience matters. I need to get better at actually listening to the people around me. I’m always so busy running around like a headless chicken that I end up taking the long way anyway."

I really need to step up the communication, Taro thought. If he’d just talked to the Doctor sooner, they might have solved this whole mess weeks ago.

"Well, you do have to keep a lot of secrets because of your rank," Marl pointed out. "But we should definitely keep the Doctor in the loop. Maybe we need a plan for that."

"Good point. Once info gets restricted to the 'Executive Only' level, I can't even accidentally let it slip... Wait, let’s just put the Doctor on the executive team. 'Staff Officer' sounds too stuffy, though. How about 'Management Observer'? That should keep the bureaucrats from whining."

"Ahaha! I love it!" Marl chirped. "If this works out, it’ll be his big win anyway. The timing is perfect. And if he says no, we’ll just have Bella ask him. He’s a total pushover for his granddaughter."

"I guess some things never change, even in the future. Anyway, let’s focus on the threat that’s actually trying to kill us right now."

"You got it! Hey, Teiro!"

Marl spun around and shoved a fist toward him. "Let's do this!"

She looked so bright, so full of hope. Taro started to raise his hand to bump her fist, but for a split second, he hesitated. 400 against 2000. This is going to be a bloodbath.

"Yeah... yeah. Let's do it."

He bumped her fist, his reply a little too stiff. Marl narrowed her eyes at him, sensing the flicker of doubt, but didn't say a word.

"This is the worst-case scenario," a man muttered in the privacy of his office, staring at a report that felt like a death warrant.

According to his scouts, Rising Sun had somehow managed to crawl into bed with Gigantech Corp. To him, this wasn't just a setback; it was a waking nightmare.

"I don't know how they did it, but they must have found a way to get hard evidence. The 'Giant' wouldn't be moving this blatantly otherwise."

The man had been the top dog of Mercenary operations for years, but he had never felt a chill like this. Gigantech Corp was, aside from the Imperial Government itself, an absolute power. You didn't fight them; you just prayed they didn't notice you.

"But still, there's no way they could find anything that quickly..."

He paced, his expression growing grimmer by the second, until he suddenly stopped and turned to his console.

"Secure line. Target: Etta."

He opened a channel through [BISHOP]. Once the connection beeped to life, he stared at the ceiling for a beat, gathering his resolve.

"Emergency G. Rising Sun."

He dropped the lie like a bomb and cut the feed before she could even reply. That specific code was only for when evidence had definitely been leaked. It was a 'pull the pin' move, not something to be used on a hunch.

"I don't think those idiots will lose, but... better safe than sorry. I have to move fast."

The moment that code was sent, a twenty-four-hour timer started. Once it hit zero, a formal declaration of war would be automatically broadcasted across the empire. The man grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door. He had work to do.

At almost the exact moment Taro’s "Evidence-Hunting Fleet"—stuffed with dozens of Gigantech "Information Witnesses," high-priced detectives, and scientists—jumped toward Zayed, the Mercenaries officially "expressed their deepest regrets" regarding the RS Alliance.

The Mercenaries publicly blasted the RS Alliance for failing to manage the Zayed region, claiming it had become a hotbed for WIND and was causing "catastrophic economic damage." The RS Alliance responded with a very confused "Who, us?", pointing out they didn't even officially control Zayed. Naturally, a third-party audit was requested, but everyone knew the Alliance would be space-dust long before the paperwork was even filed. In the mercenary world, "expressing regret" was just polite code for "we’re about to glass your planet."

Following up, the Mercenaries sent a massive fleet into Zayed for "WIND suppression," claiming they would take over administrative control once the "pests" were cleared. The RS Alliance screamed about the "Inhuman Facilities" hidden in the area, pleading for the fleet to wait for the investigation.

The Mercenaries "graciously" offered to let an investigation team in after they occupied the system. The RS Alliance rejected the offer, calling it a blatant conflict of interest. The Mercenaries then claimed the Alliance’s accusations were "groundless slander and business interference," and formally petitioned the Imperial Government for a declaration of war.

By keeping the facilities hidden until the very last second, Taro had baited the Mercenaries into a preemptive strike—the best possible outcome. Public opinion swung wildly in favor of the RS Alliance. After all, the public saw Rising Sun as a tiny, scrappy company that spent its days ferrying porn to the deep dark of outer space. Seeing a massive, terrifying military corporation like the Mercenaries go on the warpath against a bunch of smut-peddlers only made the Mercenaries look like the villains.

The PR disaster forced the Mercenaries to go it alone, without their usual allies. They were heading into battle with less than a quarter of their total potential military might.

Strategically, it was a total victory for Taro.

But on the ground (or in the vacuum), the math still sucked. It was 400 versus 2,000. To anyone looking at the sensor readouts, the result was a foregone conclusion.

Their final victory now rested on one thing: holding the line in the Zayed Region Space until the Doctor could find the smoking gun.