Episode 67

"So, uh, who actually won that mess?"

Taro groaned, currently occupying a sofa in a staff dormitory room near the Alpha Station offices with the grace of a discarded wet rag.

"I suppose it depends on your definition of 'victory,'" Marl mused, staring blankly at the ceiling from her spot beside him.

Alan, sitting across from them, gave a sharp nod. "Exactly."

"We kept the Alpha Star System intact," Alan continued, "but the other guys walked away with plenty of prizes too. They secured their rear flank and gave their economy a nice little boost. Honestly? It’s a draw at best."

"Great... so it’s a tie," Taro sighed. "I guess we just have to leave the EAP to fend for themselves now. Let's just hope the war ends with a decent compromise instead of a total disaster."

"I hope so. But I’m not sure," Marl said, her brow furrowing. "I can’t figure out what Dingo is playing at. If things keep going like this, the EAP should have a clear win in the bag, right?"

Taro and Alan both nodded. She had a point.

"That’s how it looks on paper," Alan admitted, shrugging his shoulders with an I-give-up expression. "Unless, of course, I’ve completely misread the board."

"Do you really think so?" Taro asked, shifting on the cushions. "Most of the staff seemed to think the same thing. Maybe there’s some other reason? I mean, war is basically just a high-stakes robbery, right? Maybe they found a bigger, shinier vault to crack somewhere else?"

Marl’s eyes widened slightly. "That... actually makes sense."

"It’s possible," she continued. "I can’t see a guy like Dingo just rolling over and playing dead. There’s probably another storm brewing on the horizon."

The three of them shared a grim nod. After a long, heavy silence, Marl spoke up again. "Anyway."

She turned her gaze toward Alan. "You always bragged about being the guy who can do anything and never fails. I thought you were just full of hot air, but you actually pulled it off. Honestly, I was expecting a total catastrophe, but you actually managed to force a ceasefire. I think I’ve finally realized you’re not just a pretty face."

Alan didn't miss a beat. "Is that so?" he replied coolly. "I appreciate the sentiment. But unfortunately, I wasn’t the mastermind behind those plans. Almost everything we did was Teiro’s idea."

Marl’s jaw practically hit the floor. "You’re joking, right?"

Taro pouted. Wow, way to hurt my feelings, Marl. Am I really that useless in your head?

"I mean, I wouldn't call them 'bulletproof' plans," Taro mumbled, trying to deflate the sudden tension. "A lot of it was just making things up as we went along. It just so happened that Dingo, for all his thuggery, is actually pretty good at math when it comes to his wallet."

Marl still looked like she was trying to process the idea of Taro having a functioning brain. Taro closed his eyes and shrugged, prepared to be ignored, when he suddenly felt something soft and warm press against his cheek.

"You’re actually amazing," Marl whispered with a radiant smile. "I guess I can't call you a total loser Iceman anymore."

Taro froze. His brain short-circuited. As the realization of what had just happened finally filtered through his skull, he turned a shade of red usually reserved for emergency sirens.

"Are you kidding me?" Alan groaned, looking genuinely annoyed. "If I had just kept my mouth shut and taken the credit, that would’ve been mine. Dammit!"

Alan was clearly playing it up for a laugh, but the regret in his voice was palpable. Taro, feeling like he was floating on cloud nine, opened his mouth to deliver a witty comeback, but he was interrupted by an incoming call from Koume.

[MR. TEIRO, THE CEREMONY IS READY. PLEASE PROCEED TO DOCK 4.]

The devices were roughly the size of a single person, bearing a striking resemblance to a cold-sleep Capsule. Twenty-seven of them sat in the cavernous, hollow dock, arranged in a perfectly straight line with terrifying precision.

"To the heroes who protected their families, this company, and the station," Alan’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, low and solemn.

The crowd gathered in the dock snapped to attention, saluting as one. There were men and women, young and old, their faces swollen and red from crying. Taro realized he didn't even recognize half of them.

"They’re the families of our employees," Marl whispered, standing beside him. "They all volunteered to be here."

"I see," Taro replied softly. He decided to stop talking after that. He had the distinct feeling that if he said another word, his own composure would shatter into a million pieces.

"Ejecting toward Mother Star Alpha."

The Capsules descended through the floor. A moment later, they appeared through the massive glass viewports of the dock, drifting soundlessly into the void toward the distant star.

"We don't build fancy graveyards like people on Earth used to," Marl said gently, noticing Taro’s silence. "But that star isn't going anywhere. They’ll be a part of it forever."

Taro nodded wordlessly. He pressed his hands together and bowed his head, offering a silent cycle of thanks and apologies to the heroes who had paid the price for their survival. A few employees gave him confused looks—they clearly weren't used to seeing Earth-style mourning—but Taro didn't care.

If you mean it, the format shouldn't matter.

---

Ten days had passed since the lightning-fast war between White Dingo and the TRB Union had ended. Just as the people of the station were finally starting to look toward the future again, Taro received a transmission that was as bizarre as it was "good news."

"No way. Are you serious? What the hell is going on?"

Taro’s jaw was currently hanging open as Koume relayed the latest report. He was still reeling in his room when Marl and Alan practically kicked the door down.

"Teiro! Did you hear the news? What does this mean?" Marl demanded, her chest heaving as if she’d sprinted across the entire station.

"Don't ask me! I’m just as confused as you are..." Taro turned to his resident expert. "Alan, what’s the play here?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Alan admitted. "But at the very least, it means they aren't going to turn their guns on us. If they even tried, the Imperial Military would show up and glass them before they could chamber a round. No joke."

Taro nodded. That was the one silver lining.

The Peace Treaty they’d signed with Dingo included a six-month Mutual Non-Aggression Treaty that carried the weight of Imperial Approval. They’d had to fork over a mountain of Credits to the Empire to get it, but it was the most ironclad insurance policy in the galaxy.

The Empire made a killing by selling these guarantees, and since they almost never let a violation slide, nobody was stupid enough to test them. Protecting their "protection racket" was the Empire's favorite hobby.

"Peace between the EAP and White Dingo, huh..." Taro gripped his hair. "Dammit, what was the point of that war then? Why did—"

Why did those people have to die? Taro wanted to shout it, but Alan grabbed his shoulder.

"Get a grip," Alan said firmly. "I know what you're thinking, but don't go there. No death is a waste. They did their jobs, and they did them well. You know that, right?"

Taro looked down, unable to meet Alan’s intense gaze.

[MR. TEIRO, YOU HAVE A VISITOR. SHALL I SEND THEM IN?]

Koume’s voice cut through the heavy atmosphere.

"Tell them to come back later," Taro sighed.

[NEGATIVE.]

The three of them blinked in surprise. Koume almost never talked back.

[YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY SEE THIS GUEST, MR. TEIRO. IT IS MR. DINGO.]

---

Taro found himself sitting in an Alpha Station reception room, facing Dingo in the flesh. The sheer physical presence of the man was suffocating, but Taro took comfort in the fact that Dingo was alone, while Taro had his crew backing him up.

"You’ve got some nerve showing your face here," Taro said, his voice tight. "How many of my people do you think you killed?"

Dingo remained expressionless. "Fair point."

"But I didn't come here to go to confession," the mercenary continued. "I lost plenty of my own men, too. Let's just call it even and move on. Besides, depending on how the next few weeks go, we might end up saving more lives than we lost... though, for the record, I don't think I did anything wrong."

Taro’s temper flared, but Alan stepped in before he could jump over the table. "Easy, Teiro. Don't let him bait you."

"Hah! Looks like you’ve got your hands full babysitting the kid, Alan," Dingo chuckled. "This naive brat doesn't understand how politics or society works. Tell me, kid—could you make the call to kill nine people to save ten?"

Taro flinched. He remembered Alan telling him something similar once. The cold logic of the many outweighing the few.

"If you just came here to give us a lecture, you can leave," Bella interjected from the sofa, looking at Dingo with pure disdain. "You're a bit too much for Teiro to handle right now."

Dingo turned his gaze toward her. "So, you’re Guns' Bella. We’ve been neighbors for years, but this is the first time I’ve seen you without a screen in the way."

"Lucky me," Bella snapped. "If it were up to me, we’d stay strangers forever."

"Gahahahaha! I like her!"

Dingo’s booming laugh rattled Taro’s teeth. The mercenary leaned forward, tapping the table with a heavy finger to reclaim the room's attention. Once he was sure they were listening, he dropped his voice.

"The EAP is acting weird. They’re the ones who begged for peace. They’re the ones who drafted a proposal that was—quite frankly—insanely favorable to me. I just signed the paper... but the whole thing stinks. It’s too weird."

A heavy silence fell over the room. The TRB Union members looked at each other in confusion.

"You really haven't heard, have you?" Dingo asked.

"Uh, well, no," Taro admitted. "To be honest, I just found out about the peace deal five minutes ago. You want to fill us in?"

Dingo leaned back into the sofa, eyeing Taro. "You might want to work on your poker face, kid. Honesty is great and all, but it’s a terrible trait for a CEO. Whatever. Fine. I don't know everything, so most of this is just my gut talking. How much do you know about the big Alliances in this sector?"

"The basics," Taro said, meeting his gaze. "The EAP, your group, and maybe two or three others?"

"Wow. You're remarkably uninformed," Dingo grunted. "How are you even alive?"

"Look, I didn't plan on staying in Outer Space this long. If I could leave tomorrow, I would."

"Hmph. That would certainly make my life easier. Anyway, there are four massive Alliances sitting right behind the EAP’s territory. They’ve been at each other's throats for decades, but they called a truce recently. I think they’re the ones pulling the strings."

Alan leaned in. "You think they’ve turned their sights on the EAP? Is that even feasible?"

Alan directed the question at Bella, not Dingo. The veteran mercenary thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No way. I heard rumors about the truce, but that happened, like, yesterday. You’re telling me they’re going to launch a new war while they're still exhausted and bleeding out? Their own employees' families would lynch them."

"I’m with Bella," Alan agreed. Taro didn't know the politics, but if Bella said it was impossible, he believed her.

"Normally? Yeah, you'd be right," Dingo said. "But this is Outer Space. Normal doesn't live here. Am I wrong?"

The room went quiet. Dingo tapped the table again. "The nightmare scenario," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "is that those four Alliances didn't just stop fighting. They joined forces. If they form a single super-bloc, do you know what the most valuable piece of real estate on the map becomes?"

Taro felt a chill run down his spine. He finally saw where Dingo was going. The Empire wouldn't stand for a massive, unified power in Outer Space.

"The Alpha Star System?" Taro whispered. "To keep the Empire from intervening?"

"Bingo," Dingo growled. "But it’s not just Alpha."

"The California and Illinois systems behind the EAP too," he continued. "If they lock those down, they can effectively cut off Imperial access to this entire sector. They’d be doing exactly what I tried to do, but on a scale that would make me look like a street mugger."

Dingo let the silence hang there, letting the weight of his theory crush them.

"Like I said, it’s just a guess. But it would be stupid not to prepare for the worst. If I’m wrong, we can all have a good laugh about it over drinks later. So, TRB Union... don't you think we should start getting ready to push back?"

Taro let out a weak, nervous laugh. "Oh boy. You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking."

Dingo just shook his head slowly.

"A mutual defense pact," Dingo proposed. "That’s why I’m here. Look, I’m not saying we have to be buddies. I’m saying it’s in both our interests not to get vaporized by a new superpower."

Chaos. That was just life in Outer Space.

---

Author's Note: We've reached a major turning point in the story, so I'll be taking a short break from updates. I'll be back soon, and I hope you'll continue to support the series! m( )m