Episode 53

Taro clamped down on his trembling hands and looked Koume dead in the eye.

"Rin Barkhorn... Hey, Koume. Did you hear that?"

Responding to his grave expression, Koume straightened her posture and put on her most serious face. "Yes, Mr. Teiro. It is a very imposing surname, isn't it?"

"That’s not the point!" Taro barked. He turned a flat palm toward her and tried again. "Do you have any record of the word 'Tokyo'?"

"Tokyo, Mr. Teiro? One moment..." Koume paused, her eyes glazing over as she processed data. "Yes. Unfortunately, there is no entry for such a term in the Encyclopedia Galactica."

Taro’s shoulders slumped. I knew it. Just a coincidence. He turned back to the comms, noticing the boy on the screen looking utterly bewildered, and offered a quick apology.

"Sorry, kid. I got distracted. So, about that 'Alla'... what was it again?"

"The Alliance, Teiro," Marl cut in, sounding exasperated. "It's a union of Unions. There’s no strict legal definition, but it usually implies a pact involving mutual defense and passage rights for combat vessels. EAP is a registered name on the neural net, and it matches their identification signal."

"I see. So they’re legit? Huh. 'Alliance' sounds like one of those high-level military terms. I wonder why I’ve never heard it before?"

Taro chewed on that for a second before the answer hit him. The Galactic Empire had no enemies, and certainly no peers to cooperate with. To an Imperial citizen, the very concept of an 'alliance' was a historical relic.

"Right, same deal as the HAD, then. I really need to brush up on civilian military lore... Anyway, sorry about that. So, what does this Alliance want with yours truly?"

The boy on the screen, who looked like he had been on the verge of tears a moment ago, brightened instantly. Finally, it was his time to shine.

"Yes! This is Customs! If you wish to pass through our space, we must collect the appropriate tariffs!"

Rin Barkhorn’s voice was suddenly full of pep. Taro blinked, looking sideways at Marl. "Is that actually a thing?"

"Don't ask me," Marl sighed. "We’re outside the Empire now. Out here, there are as many laws as there are petty warlords. Honestly, I just want to get the Plum some maintenance. Depending on the price, we should probably just pay the toll and be done with it."

Taro nodded. "Makes sense." He turned back to the monitor. "Fine, we’ll pay. What’s the damage?"

"Yes! Since it depends on your cargo, please send over a manifest so I can calculate the fee. We require one percent of your projected profit upfront, and another one percent upon your return trip. Please note that taxes on trading margins are handled separately!"

That’s not too bad, Taro thought, reaching for the controls. But Marl’s hand shot out to stop him.

"What about the Second Adjustment Treaty with the Empire?" she demanded.

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Rin chirped.

"Good. Then we won't have any problems. Teiro, get ready. It’s time to actually do some work for once."

Marl looked smug. Taro, meanwhile, just tilted his head in total confusion.

"It’s a treaty between the Empire and the various Management Corps, Mr. Teiro," Koume explained. "It’s a mutual deduction agreement designed to prevent the double taxation of goods."

"Double taxation? You mean so I don't pay tax here and back in the Empire?"

"Exactly," Marl said. "It won't wipe out the whole bill, but it provides a significant credit. There’s a cap on the amount, though."

"Got it." Taro nodded, finally following the logic.

He didn't have digital currency that worked out here, so he allocated a portion of the trade goods he’d been hauling—effectively using them as physical cash—to cover the fee. He drew up a contract on the spot, ensuring the payment guaranteed their safety and docking rights at the station, and pinged it over to Rin’s ship.

"I’d love some change back if you've got it, but don't sweat it. Just use the local market average for the conversion."

Outer space was a disconnected void. They couldn't reach the Imperial Center or even the Alpha Star System. Since Imperial Credits were purely electronic, they were useless in a zone without a subspace link. Rumor had it the Empire was mass-producing physical Money Chips again, but they hadn't reached the fringe yet.

"That’s perfectly fine! I actually have some things I’d like to discuss with you anyway. I’ll lead you to the station!"

Taro let out a long sigh of relief as Rin’s voice crackled through the speakers. Following the beacon signal from Rin's Cruiser, they trailed the ship for a short distance before engaging a micro-jump via Overdrive.

When they dropped back into real-space, a massive structure dominated the view. It was a space station—the largest Taro had seen since leaving the Empire. Ships of all sizes buzzed around it like angry hornets. You didn't need a degree in economics to see that this place was the beating heart of the sector.

"Whoa... it’s huge. It’s gotta be several times bigger than Alpha Station."

Taro followed Rin’s lead toward the pier. The docking guidance was surprisingly similar to the Empire’s automated systems. Unlike his harrowing experience with the ghost ship, the BISHOP handled the approach perfectly. Taro kicked back in his pilot's seat, relaxing with a carton of his favorite fruit juice.

[DOCKING COMPLETE. WELCOME TO KATSUSHIKA STATION.]

Taro did a violent, cinematic spit-take.

Koume performed a graceful, mid-air dodge. Marl, however, was not so lucky. She stood there, frozen, juice dripping from her chin in a silent, terrifying rage.

"KA-KATSUSHIKA!?" Taro screamed at the BISHOP’s display. "No way! No way in hell! There is definitely a Japanese person involved in this!"

Taro realized his mistake the moment he saw Marl slowly turn toward him. He scrambled out of his seat and immediately dropped into a formal seiza position on the floor. "I—I am so sorry! My bad! Truly!"

"It’s fine..." Marl said, her voice a chilling monotone. "I’m not mad. At all. So? What was it? What could possibly justify spraying me with sugar-water? I’d love to hear a very, very convincing explanation."

Her eyes were dead. Taro gulped. She is so incredibly mad.

"Right! Well! You see!" Taro stammered as Marl's lip twitched. "The place where I used to live was called Tokyo, and Katsushika was one of the districts there!"

"Hmm. And you’re sure it’s not just a coincidence?"

"I mean... maybe? I don't know. I’ll have to ask them. But what are the odds?"

In his time within the Galactic Empire, every name he’d heard was in Imperial Standard—which was basically just English. He’d heard some gibberish names or alien sounds, but he hadn’t encountered a single Japanese word until now. Even though the Override had stripped his ability to speak Japanese, his memories of the language remained intact.

"Well, only one way to find out. Let’s go see what’s inside the mystery box."

The Gate Lobby was their first stop. Unlike the sleek, sterile, and minimalist designs favored by the Empire, Katsushika Station’s lobby was a chaotic, vibrating mess of humanity. The floor stretched out for hundreds of meters in every direction, crammed with people and open-air stalls. Rin led the way, with Taro, Marl, and Koume shoving through the throng behind him.

"Hey! You! Kid! Look at this! Latest Imperial-style timepiece! Very classy!"

"Uh, no thanks," Taro waved off a vendor. "I’ve got an AI for that."

"Hey, spacer! Look at these pilot suits! Thirty percent off! You want to try one on? We have changing rooms!"

"I... think I’ll pass on the seven-colored stripes. Though that blue one is actually kind of cool."

"High-quality Quantum cigars! The real deal! Buy ten, get one free!"

"Oh, now we’re talking! Bella would love those. Pops, give me a hundred!"

Stalls lined both sides of the thoroughfare, their boundaries marked by simple lines painted on the floor. Taro gawped at everything like a country bumpkin on his first trip to the big city, chatting with anyone who called out to him.

"This is it! This is the kind of market I’ve been looking for!" Taro beamed.

Marl looked at him with a mix of exhaustion and pity. "Do your shopping later."

Taro knew he was testing her patience—especially after the juice incident—and he knew he was slowing Rin down. But he couldn't help it. The sheer energy of the place was infectious.

"No, no, look! Look at that! Is that a giant bronze statue? That is insane!"

Taro was frolicking like a child. Marl shot Rin an apologetic look; Rin just gave her a weak, sympathetic smile in return.

After Taro had finally burned off enough excitement, Rin led them to a private reception room. They settled into soft, surprisingly comfortable sofas, and a few moments later, Rin returned with two stern-looking men. Taro tensed up, but Rin waved them off, and they stepped back outside to guard the door.

"Now then, Mr. Teiro. There’s something I need to ask you before we go any further."

Rin sat across from Taro, looking restless. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Ahem. So... Mr. Teiro. You... you came from the Empire, right?"

Taro blinked at the weird question. "Yeah. I mean, obviously."

"H-How!?" Rin blurted out, leaning so far over the table he nearly fell.

"What do you mean 'how'? We just flew here. It’s not like the technology for physical body warping exists yet, right?"

Taro glanced at Marl for backup. Still grumpy, she didn't offer any witty banter.

"Don't look at me for a punchline. Yes, we came straight here from Imperial space. We cut through Dingo’s territory and headed for the border. Is there a problem?"

Rin’s hands balled into tight fists. He looked down at the floor, falling into a heavy silence. After a long minute, he slowly looked up, his expression grim.

"Dingo has blockaded the entire sector border. As of right now, this place is completely cut off from the Galactic Empire."