Chapter 23

Using Delta Station as their hub, Rising Sun Corp spent their days moving goods, moving people, and—for the most part—moving a truly staggering volume of adult toys. Taro, now the proud owner of five vessels after adding two small combat frigates to his fleet, stood before his primary breadwinner: the Destroyer Plum. Despite being the President of the company, he was currently leaning in uncomfortably close to a new female employee’s face.

"Hmm? I didn't quite catch that. One more time, with feeling!"

Taro cupped a hand over his ear, leaning in further. In the Galactic Empire, where labor laws were blissfully ignorant of age limits, it wasn't uncommon to see employees in their early teens. This particular girl blushed furiously, fidgeting under his gaze.

"Yes, sir... it’s... the..."

Taro loomed over her as she mumble-whispered.

"We’re confirming vital cargo here! Come on, what’s it say on the manifest? Say it loud and proud!"

"Um... Ad... ad... ult..."

"Hmm?"

"Adult... that is..."

"Hmmmm? What was that? This old man’s ears aren't what they used to be!"

"Uugh... Ad... Adult... Air... augh..."

"Huff, huff... yes! Just a little more! Give it to me loud and—GWA-HUFF-BLERG!!"

Taro collapsed into a heap, letting out a strangled, undignified shriek. Behind him stood Marl, her leg still extended from the precise, lethal strike she had just delivered to his groin.

"What are you doing, committing blatant sexual harassment in the middle of a workday?" Marl asked, her voice cold. "Imperial law might be silent on the matter, but Station Ordinances are a different story."

Marl looked down at Taro—who was currently twitching on the floor and praying for a swift death—with the kind of expression one usually reserved for a particularly stubborn stain on a boot. "You’re done here. Go," she told the girl, shooing her away.

Marl glanced at the manifest Taro had been so obsessed with. "'Adult Air Duster Techniques'... what? An air duster is just a can of air, right? Seriously, what is wrong with this galaxy? How do you even categorize this as 'Adult'? ...Actually, now I'm curious. Is that the marketing hook? Is this a trap?"

Scowling with a look that was anything but feminine, Marl finished the inventory check. Every crate was fitted with a dedicated Electronic Tag, allowing the ship to track every single item even when they were piled like junk. In the beginning, they’d had to apply the tags by hand, but Marl had since automated the process by kit-bashing a cheap repair drone into an Electronic Tag Applicator.

"Next stop is the Adela Star System, right? We finally get back to Delta only to head out the very next day. This courier life is no joke," Marl sighed. "Anyway, quit napping, Teiro. Get up or I'm leaving you behind."

"N-no... you... you did this..." Taro wheezed from the floor. "I’m... I’m broken..."

"Oh, please. You haven't used that equipment for twenty years anyway. It’s not like you were going to start now. Move it."

Marl grabbed Taro by the arm and began dragging his semi-conscious body toward the Plum’s airlock. Taro offered no resistance, though he did manage to keep muttering protests through his pain.

"Dammit... one of these days... I’ll make you... pay for th—GAH-UFF!!"

Marl flicked him hard on the nose, and Taro finally decided that silence was the better part of valor.

[SYSTEM: JUMP DRIVE COUNTDOWN INITIATED, MR. TEIRO.]

Koume’s inorganic voice echoed through the bridge. Taro gave a weak "Okay" and watched the numbers tick down on his BISHOP interface.

"Teiro, just to be sure... you’re really serious about this?"

Marl sat up in her seat—which she had claimed as her own long ago—and fixed Taro with a steady look. Taro gave her a shaky thumbs-up.

"You bet. I am the Guardian of Virgins, after all. I have people to protect. Duty calls, Koume-san!"

Taro tried to look like a gritty, world-weary hero. Koume didn't even look up from her console.

"Mr. Teiro, I fail to see the logic. Have you truly found some intrinsic value in safeguarding the chastity of strangers? To be perfectly honest, I find the concept repulsive."

"Heh, say what you want. But maybe wrap it in a little more sugar next time, Koume-chan? My heart is fragile," Taro said, before his eyes lit up. "But seriously, the adult content of the future is insane! It’s so good I’ve started wondering if I even need a girlfriend. Those holographs? You can’t touch them, but they’re indistinguishable from reality. Being able to walk behind the image... it’s the peak of human achievement."

"Sigh... Calling it 'the future' when it’s just the present for us... but fine. I think I get your plan now. You’re just trying to drag everyone else down with you, aren't you?"

Taro’s lips twisted into a wicked smirk. He stood up and threw his arms wide.

"Exactly! Alan and I have officially decided to form the All-Galaxy Virgin Union! Hear me, Empire! By guarding the virginity of the masses, I shall tank the birth rate and slowly throttle this galaxy into a peaceful, celibate extinction!"

"Do you actually have a grudge against the Empire?"

"Nope. Purely taking my frustrations out on the universe."

Marl looked at him with genuine pity. Taro had answered way too fast for that to be a joke.

"...Well, I guess everyone needs a hobby. Just a heads-up: the Adela system is in a stellar active phase. Solar winds are causing massive electromagnetic interference. Plus, there are reports of WIND activity. I’m worried we’ll have a repeat of last time."

"Yeah, I know, I know. But the fact that nobody wants to go there is exactly why the profit margins are so high. We’re Rising Sun—we live in the niches everyone else is too scared to touch."

"I suppose," Marl conceded. Rising Sun was becoming a name for itself as a transport corp with military-grade muscle, capable of high-risk deliveries that the big corporations wouldn't bother with. Taro figured that focusing on high-stakes, low-competition jobs was actually "safer" than trying to compete with the giants on their home turf.

"At least we’re carrying some daily necessities for once. It feels good to be useful, even if half the cargo is still porn."

"Porn is useful to society!!" Taro shouted.

[SYSTEM: I SHALL NOT DEBATE THE POINT. JUMP DRIVE COMMENCING, MR. TEIRO.]

The hull began to vibrate. Taro braced himself for the inevitable headache and ear-popping. He watched the view screen as the stars bled into a smear of blue. He didn't vomit anymore, but God, he still hated this part.

[SYSTEM: JUMP DRIVE TERMINATED. ARRIVAL AT TARGET COORDINATES.]

The white-blue haze faded, replaced by the familiar interior of the Plum’s central control room as the safety locks disengaged.

"Alright... coordinates confirmed. Any signs of jamming?"

"Position relative to the sun is a match. No jamming detected. Ship systems are all green, Mr. Teiro," Koume reported.

"Beacons for Adela Stations 1 and 2 are both live," Marl added. "No phase shift. But the radiation levels are off the charts. We should switch the scanners to optical."

"Got it. Do it. Everything looks smooth so far. Alright, let's head for Adela Station 1. Overdrive, go!"

It was a routine they’d performed dozens of times. Taro engaged the Overdrive and sank into his seat. The ship lurched, hurtling them across the system. A moment later, the familiar shudder signaled their arrival. The station appeared on the display, growing at a terrifying speed—or rather, they were closing the distance in the blink of an eye.

"Wait. Uh. Isn't that a bit... close?"

Even as they decelerated, the massive space station roared past the side of the hull like a freight train. When the ship finally came to a full stop, they were practically scraping the station's paint.

[WARNING: COLLISION RISK WITH LARGE STRUCTURE.]

"Yeah, thanks for the heads-up, system! Bit late for that! Wait—crap! We're drifting! Full power!"

"I'm on it! Correcting attitude!" Marl yelled.

Taro watched his BISHOP display in horror. The distance to the station was shrinking toward zero at an impossible rate. The massive wall of the station loomed over them, an oppressive, metallic horizon.

"Koume-san, why the hell is the station moving?!" Taro screamed, frantically fighting the controls to break the collision course.

"Unknown, Mr. Teiro. Most stations are capable of movement, but protocol requires advance notice to the government."

"THIS IS STARDUST! TEIRO, DISCONNECT US NOW! WE’RE ON A COLLISION COURSE!"

Alan’s voice exploded over the comms. "Copy that!" Taro yelled, hitting the release on the Stardust, which was currently docked where a Rockboy would usually be.

"GAAAAHHHHH! Koume-san, Physical Shield!!"

Taro ducked, instinctively flinching away from the screen as the station’s outer hull filled his entire field of vision. Windows and structural beams blurred past like a kaleidoscope of doom.

"Wha—AGH!!"

A violent impact rocked the entire ship. Marl screamed, and Koume was thrown to the floor.

[SYSTEM: JOINT MECHANISM DAMAGED.] [SYSTEM: ATTITUDE CONTROL THRUSTERS NO. 4 AND NO. 6 DESTROYED.] [SYSTEM: UNEXPECTED HULL KINETICS DETECTED.]

Warning lights strobed across the bridge. Taro’s head spun as he realized they’d clipped the station.

"Ow... damn it... the ship’s in a spin... Alan! You okay?!"

"STARDUST HERE. WE PULLED AWAY BY A HAIR, BUT WE LOST SOME ARMOR PLATING. MAIN SYSTEMS ARE STILL ONLINE."

Taro exhaled in relief. He pulled up a camera feed of the Stardust—the 50-meter-long, falcon-shaped ship was dancing through the debris, carefully dodging the metal fragments its own hull had just shed.

"Damn it! The Plum’s first dent is a fender bender? This is not how I wanted to start the day!" Taro grumbled, finally dampening the ship’s rotation and glaring at the receding station.

"Mr. Teiro," Koume said, her voice eerily calm.

Taro, who had been about to check if his cargo of adult toys had survived the impact, froze. He and Marl looked at Koume, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I have attempted to reconnect multiple times, but the Neural Net is unresponsive. It appears we are isolated."