Episode 76

The meeting took place in a restaurant that was, by all accounts, vaguely upscale. The interior was swathed in moody indirect lighting and furnished with "fake wood" that looked so much like the real thing it was bordering on a legal liability. Only a few tables were occupied, leaving several waiters to stand around looking like they were contemplating the heat death of the universe.

In one corner, the heavy hitters of the First Fleet were currently attacking their desserts with the post-negotiation fervor of a victorious army. The business deal had been a smashing success, and their counterparts had already scurried home, practically glowing with profit-driven joy.

"So, they just let you walk away? That’s not exactly a punchline I’m laughing at," Alan remarked, his face as grim as a tax audit.

He was responding to Teiro’s play-by-play of the electronics store debacle. Marl, whose face was currently a shade of pale usually reserved for Victorian ghosts, chimed in with a sharp, "Exactly! It’s not funny at all!" She pouted so hard it was a wonder her face didn't get stuck that way. "Look, I don't care how many overpowered Gifts or fleets you have—on the inside, you’re just one squishy human being! Do you actually get that through your thick skull?"

She looked like she was seconds away from leaping across the table and shaking him. Teiro offered a sheepish grin and performed a seated bow that was fifty percent apology and fifty percent self-preservation.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. Total lapse in judgment," Teiro admitted. But seriously, who expects a random assassination attempt while shopping for gadgets? He shrugged his shoulders, looking for backup. Marl just crossed her arms and let out a theatrical "Hmph!"

"You have way more influence than you realize. Start acting like it, or this is going to keep happening!"

"I know, I know... Believe me, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d really like to make 'not being murdered' a permanent lifestyle choice."

Just thinking about the terror of someone creeping up behind him without a sound made Teiro’s skin crawl. He instinctively glanced over his shoulder.

"Well... nobody there now. But seriously, what do we do? I’d really rather not have a bunch of guys in suits following me to the bathroom."

Teiro looked absolutely miserable at the thought of a 24/7 entourage. Fortunately, Koume intervened with her trademark mechanical serenity.

"It should likely be fine, Mr. Teiro. For the time being, Rising Sun lacks any clearly defined hostile organizations. The only exceptions are the White Dingo and the Enzio Alliance, and the former is currently an ally."

Alan nodded along. "True. Plus, Enzio’s motive for offing you is pretty weak. Out of the hundreds of corporations in the EAP, we’re so far down the food chain we’re practically plankton. They probably don't even know we exist."

"What about him protecting Alpha?" Marl countered. "Couldn't that be a motive?"

"In theory, sure. But killing him now achieves nothing. By the time Alpha actually becomes a battlefield, some other suit would just take his place. Besides..." Alan lowered his voice and tapped his terminal. Teiro noticed the screen was running a high-end anti-eavesdropping suite. "...The fact that Teiro’s Gift is a literal game-changer is a secret known only to a tiny circle. The public doesn't know. Nobody would believe a single guy’s 'Gift' is responsible for those weapons anyway."

The table groaned in collective agreement.

"Teiro," Alan said, "did those two say anything that could tip us off to who they really are?"

"Their identities? Nah. But they did give me a business card."

"...Huh?"

The entire table stared at him like he’d just confessed to eating paste. Teiro fished around in his pocket and produced a small card chip. "Here, look."

They all leaned in, huddling over the table like conspirators, and one by one, they pressed the chip to their foreheads to read the data.

"Leila, huh? The Outsider girl. Speaks Ungalonda," Alan muttered, his brow furrowing into a roadmap of concern. "Leila, Leila... dammit, I’ve heard that name somewhere. And not in the 'I won the lottery' kind of way."

Everyone went silent, desperately digging through their mental files.

But the brain trust came up empty. The mystery was officially handed over to Alan in his capacity as Chief of Intelligence—a fancy way of saying it was now his homework. The group headed back to the ship feeling significantly less satisfied than they had after dessert.

The working theory was that the assassins belonged to some reactionary group—probably some "save the downtrodden" activists who saw the EAP’s influence as a threat. The EAP had given Katsushika a taste of freedom, and plenty of people were terrified that a new boss like Teiro would lock the doors.

The final verdict: Teiro was grounded. No more solo trips. If he wanted to go buy a candy bar, he was taking a Security Team escort. It was going to be suffocating, but he didn't exactly have a vote.

---

"Seriously though, isn't this overkill?"

Teiro was moping on his bed. In the shadows of his room, two glowing eyes stared back at him.

"Don't mind us. Just sleep," a voice said. "We wake up at the slightest noise, and we can sleep twenty hours a day anyway."

It was Cha, the cat, currently curled into a ball at the foot of his bed.

"My privacy is officially dead," Teiro groaned.

"Sucks to be you," Cha replied dryly. "But with the mood Marl’s in, you’re stuck with us. Look on the bright side—at least we aren't surveillance cameras and motion sensors."

Teiro slumped. "I guess." Knowing Koume, she’s probably recording my sleep cycles anyway.

"If she’s this worried, why doesn't Marl just be my bodyguard herself?" Teiro joked.

Cha didn't even open his eyes. "And do what? Nag the assassin to death?"

---

[APPROXIMATELY 15 MINUTES TO CONTACT. ENEMY DETECTED: 3 GROUPS. TOTAL COUNT: 14.]

Koume’s voice rang through the Plum’s Control Room, cool as a cucumber. Teiro exhaled, relieved the numbers were exactly what they’d predicted. He settled into his seat, the pre-battle jitters turning into focus.

"Plum to all ships. Status check?"

"[BIRD ONE, NO ABNORMALITIES.]"

"[BIRD TWO, NO ABNORMALITIES!]"

"Contact in fifteen. Maintain current course and speed," Teiro ordered. "Bird Two, keep the wide-area scanners humming. I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

The Katsushika long-range patrol radar had pinged a swarm of unidentified bogies. Teiro’s First Fleet had been scrambled as a Destroyer Squadron, but the WIND ships were acting... weird.

"Are they trying to bait us?" Teiro squinted at the Radar Screen.

"Hard to say, Mr. Teiro," Koume replied. She wasn't even looking at the screens; she was plugged directly into the ship’s data feed. "If this were a lure, they would typically be much more provocative."

"True. But they're too slow to be running away. There’s no way they haven't spotted us yet, right?"

"Impossible," Marl cut in. "We’ve caught their active pings multiple times. They know we’re here."

"Right. Any space-weather issues?"

"Negative, Mr. Teiro. The field is stable, and Drive Particle density is optimal. I can disperse anti-particles if you wish to be extra cautious."

Teiro waved her off. He racked his brain trying to figure out the enemy's logic, but it was like trying to guess the favorite color of a toaster. Machines didn't think like people.

"Fine. Plum to all ships. Column formation. We’re sniping from long range. Do not close the distance."

"[BIRD ONE, ROGER. HEY TEIRO, WHY NOT THROW A RECONNAISSANCE DRONE OUT THERE?]"

"Good call. Let's see what they’re hiding. Gon-san, you’re up."

"[CAT ONE, COPIED. ALRIGHT, BOSS, BORROWING A SLICE OF YOUR BRAIN NOW!]"

Teiro winced. What a gross way to put it.

[FIGHTER CONTROL RELAY FUNCTION: ACTIVATED]

A bypass window flickered into existence on Teiro’s BISHOP interface. It was a new toy they’d commissioned from BB Makina, designed to let the Cats link their BISHOPs to their fighters through Teiro’s massive processing power.

"Wait a sec," Teiro muttered. "If we’re only moving one drone, do you even need my brain for this?"

The system was designed for the Cats to micro-manage entire swarms. Using it for one scout was like using a supercomputer to play Minesweeper.

"[WHO CARES? IT’S GOOD PRACTICE!]" Gon shouted from the Drone Bay.

Teiro rolled his eyes and processed the Relay Function anyway.

"Reconnaissance Drone launched. Target: enemy fleet perimeter," Marl announced.

A blue blip labeled [RECONNAISSANCE 1] streaked across the holo-screen, hauling ass toward the enemy ships.

"[WHOA! THE FEEDBACK IS INSANE!]" Gon’s voice crackled with awe. "[IS THIS YOUR BRAIN OR THE SHIP’S BISHOP? WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE?!]"

Teiro just shrugged. Don't ask me, man. I just work here.

[EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION: BIRD TWO]

Red text flashed across the screen. Teiro nearly fell out of his chair. "Go ahead!"

"[THIS IS BIRD TWO! SCANNER JUST PICKED UP MULTIPLE NEW SIGNATURES! DATA INCOMING!]"

A new tactical map flooded the screen. A second fleet, identical in size to the first, had just appeared on their flank.

"A pincer move?" Teiro started to scoff. "That’s a bit basic, isn't—"

He stopped. He looked at the heading of the new fleet. His blood ran cold.

"ALL SHIPS, RAPID REVERSAL! PREPARE OVERDRIVE NOW!"

Marl and Koume jumped. "Teiro, what is it?!"

"Look at their vector!" Teiro screamed, pointing at the holo-map. "They aren't flanking us! They’re ignoring us! They’re heading straight for the Katsushika Star System!"

Marl turned white. "Then that means..."

[MR. TEIRO, THE FLEET AHEAD HAS COMMENCED DEPLOYMENT OF A HIGH-OUTPUT WARP SCRAMBLER. OVERDRIVE INTENSITY HAS DROPPED TO 32%. WE MUST EVACUATE THE JAMMING ZONE IMMEDIATELY.]

Koume was as calm as ever, which only made it scarier. Teiro stared at the Radar Screen in horror.

"This is bad... this is really, really bad..."

On the screen, the enemy’s second fleet ignited. They became streaks of light, bypassing the First Fleet entirely and warping toward the defenseless Katsushika heartland in the blink of an eye.