Chapter 37

"My, what a fortuitous turn of events! I believe we should most certainly join hands with them."

Lyza’s intrigued face beamed from the monitor in the Plum II’s control room. Teiro, who had fully expected a lecture or at least a look of utter disappointment, felt the wind fly right out of his sails.

"Er, right. But you do realize they're literally the Mafia, right? Is that... actually okay?"

Lyza met his question with a look of profound confusion.

"I fail to see the issue, Mr. Teiro. As the saying goes, ‘You aren't a pro until you’ve partnered with the mob.’ It’ll add some serious street cred to our Union. Since they made the first move, perhaps it's their way of showing gratitude."

Teiro let out a low, doubtful groan. He wasn’t even remotely convinced, so he turned to Koume, who was standing nearby.

"Hey, Koume. This 'Mafia' vibe is way off from what I was expecting. Help a guy out with a better explanation, please."

Koume tilted her head, looking at him with clinical curiosity.

"Since I am unaware of your personal internal image of the Mafia, Mr. Teiro, would a general summary suffice?"

"Yeah, that’s fine. My image is basically... guys doing business that’s either borderline illegal or just straight-up 'jail time' territory. Everyone’s terrified of them. Like, ‘Hey you, you better have my protection money or else.’ You know the vibe?"

"I see," Koume replied. "So, an image of being seduced by a beautiful woman, getting carried away and starting a relationship, only to find out she is the mistress of a Mafia boss who then proceeds to extort every credit to your name?"

"You definitely know what I'm talking about, don't you!?"

At Teiro’s retort, Koume merely shrugged and turned her palms upward—the universal gesture for 'I’m sure I haven't the slightest idea what you mean.'

"No, no, that was merely a conjecture, Mr. Teiro. However, according to the Encyclopedia Galactica, the Mafia is defined as follows: 'Members of a corporate organization that maintains and manages a region, primarily through military force, in areas where the influence of Imperial Law is significantly restricted. Corporations that operate with the permission of the Empire are called Mafian Corps, while unauthorized organizations are distinguished as Outlaw Corps.'"

"Official permission!? You mean they've got the Emperor’s actual rubber stamp of approval!?"

"Indeed, Mr. Teiro. The galaxy is vast, and the human frontier expands daily. When that expansion outpaces the growth of the Imperial bureaucracy, lawless vacuums inevitably emerge."

"I see... so they're like a temporary patch to fill the gaps. But I bet some of them still do some pretty shady stuff, right?"

"Correct. There are Corps that engage in activities that cause them to be shunned, such as the manufacture and sale of prohibited drugs, human trafficking, or the use of force beyond their mandate. However, in most cases, they are recognized as a necessary evil."

"A necessary evil, huh... I guess it’s a matter of supply and demand. If the Mafia doesn’t do it, someone else will."

Koume nodded silently. Teiro chewed on that for a moment, but noticing Lyza looking like she was about to fall asleep waiting for him, he hurriedly turned up the comms volume.

"Sorry, sorry, kept you waiting. I think I’ve got the gist of the Mafia thing now. By the way, Bella is asking for twenty percent of the voting rights—what’s the verdict?"

"Oh, that is quite modest, isn't it? Natural, perhaps, if we consider this a temporary partnership. In that case, should we settle on forty-one for your side and thirty-nine for ours? If you have no objections, let us proceed."

"Roger that. The Union officially votes 'yes.' I’ll send the reply now."

Teiro whipped up a concise contract on BISHOP and beamed it over to Bella, who was likely currently busy shoving HAD Units into the Plum II’s hangar.

"Teiro, the Overdrive overhaul is done."

Teiro had been distracted by some rather unpleasant mental images of what would have happened if they’d rejected the Mafia’s application. Marl, having just returned from the engine room, wiped the sweat from her forehead with a towel.

"Good work. I take it everything went smoothly?"

"Yeah, we should be able to pull off a long-distance jump now. Just like I thought, it wasn't a structural power issue; it was a safety mechanism. The ship was hard-coded to ensure power to critical equipment was never interrupted."

Marl untied her hair, letting it fall loose as she exhaled a long sigh.

"But now? We can shove the full voltage wherever we want. We’ll make it to that Research Station easily."

Marl flashed a thumbs-up. Teiro mirrored the gesture. The Research Station was parked in the middle of nowhere, and usually, you’d need a small Stargate to reach it. But since those had been blown to bits by WIND, the Plum II had to make the trip on its own muscle.

"Understood. But 'full voltage'... is that actually safe?"

Teiro was a little hung up on that "power to critical equipment" part. Marl gave him a noncommittal 'eh' sound.

"It’s not like we’re going to be using maximum power for long. After the jump, we’ll just need five minutes or so to top off the batteries. The Life Support System can run off the spares anyway."

Satisfied, Teiro gave a short nod.

"Alright then, let's go play hero... This is Plum II to all units. We’re jumping to the target coordinates momentarily. Everyone ready?"

"Stardust here," Alan’s voice crackled. "No problems. We can move whenever you’re ready."

"Blue Comet here. The gear was loaded ages ago, kid," Bella added.

"Black Meteor here. We’re set. Let’s get this over with," Squall finished.

Alan was piloting the Stardust as support, while the newly hired Guns and Rule HAD Units were split into two three-man squads led by Bella and Squall.

"Plum II acknowledges. Alright, let’s do this!"

Teiro looked at Marl and nodded.

[OVERDRIVE: INITIATED]

"Wide-area Scan. Search for the target. Give me a status report."

The moment the Overdrive transit ended, Teiro slammed the scan button.

"The Large-scale Structure is four hundred kilometers dead ahead. Well within the margin of error, Mr. Teiro."

"Solar flare interference and debris levels are minimal. The field is stable," Marl reported.

Teiro nodded. "Full speed toward the objective."

About five minutes passed. Just as the distance to the target dropped to the halfway mark, several blips winked into existence on Teiro’s radar screen.

"Well, look at that—a welcoming committee. Any response to our Identification Signal?"

"None," Marl replied. "They’re all flagged as Unknown. Probably WIND."

"I concur that the probability is high," Koume added. "However, Mr. Teiro, I have confirmed one inexplicable anomaly."

Teiro turned to her. "Good news or bad?"

"Unclear," Koume said. "The Wide-area Scan has returned an unexpected result. I performed a second pass to rule out an analysis error, but the data is consistent. There are 'two' Large-scale Structure reactions at the target site."

The room fell into a heavy silence.

"Wait, what? Are there two Research Stations?"

"Negative, Mr. Teiro. Furthermore, the distance between the two structures is approximately one hundred and fifty kilometers. They are far too separated to be a single interconnected facility."

"Could they have caught an asteroid in their gravity well or something?" Marl asked.

"Also negative, Miss Marl. Weak radio emissions have been detected from both objects."

"Great, so they’re both man-made. What are we looking at? Can we get a size reading?"

"One moment," Koume replied. After a few seconds of silence, her voice rang out again. "Both are classified as ultra-compact stations. One matches the signature of the Alpha Star System Research Station. The other is somewhat smaller."

Teiro’s brow furrowed. "What the hell? Even if you call it 'ultra-compact,' it’s still way bigger than a ship, right?"

"Correct, Mr. Teiro. In terms of mass, it is at least ten times that of this vessel."

Teiro ran through a dozen possibilities in his head, but none of them made a lick of sense. Marl seemed to be in the same boat, resting her chin in her hand as she puzzled over the data.

"I don't get it. Well... we’ll have visuals in a second. Seeing is believing."

Marl looked up at the main viewscreen. Teiro and Koume followed her lead.

The grainy image of deep space flickered on the monitor, slowly sharpening as the resolution increased. As the final pixels clicked into place, the entire control room erupted in a chorus of stunned silence.

"What... what the hell is that?"

Teiro’s jaw hit the floor. Marl and Koume weren't far behind him.

The screen displayed a bizarre, nonsensical object that looked like an abstract sculpture of galactic garbage. It was a massive rectangular solid—a Frankenstein's monster of giant iron plates, shipping containers, station piers, and a thicket of unintelligible antennas. It looked like every piece of man-made space junk in the sector had been kneaded together into a single, terrifying lump. Teiro’s first thought was that it looked like a "Giant WIND," but it lacked any visible engines or propulsion systems.

"No, seriously, what am I looking at...?"

Teiro completely forgot about the hostile blips closing in on their position. He just stood there, staring at the screen in utter bewilderment.