Chapter 9

Finally, a breather!!

"Look, let me be blunt... if everything you just just said is true, you’re honestly way too sketchy for my taste. I really don't want to get involved with you."

"Totally fair! I completely understand!"

Taro’s shoulders slumped at the voice crackling over the external comms, but his heart was doing backflips of pure joy. It didn't matter what she said; this was a person—someone other than himself. It was the first living, breathing human being he had encountered in a whole year.

"I guess not having a birth certificate or ship registration is a bit of a deal-breaker, huh?"

In a rush of adrenaline, Taro had blurted out his entire life story. Now, he was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe I should have thought a bit more before opening my big mouth, he reflected. Even if he didn’t want to lie, he probably should have avoided sharing details that made him look like a galactic vagrant.

"Hah? Citizenship and registration can be fixed as long as you have the credits. The real problem is that Override device and the four thousand corpses. No matter how you spin it, that ship is anything but legitimate."

"Oh, the bodies? I gave them a space burial! I shoved them all into the Cargo Bay and ejected them, so they’re gone now. According to Koume’s math, they’ll plunge into a star in about twenty thousand years. I should probably pray for their souls, right?"

"Into 'some' star... I mean, it was an emergency, but you really don't do things by halves, do you?"

Marl let out a long, weary sigh. "Anyway," she continued. "In exchange for the rescue, I’ll tow you to the station, but you’re on your own after that. Docking fees for a ship that size will be astronomical, and more importantly, I don’t want to be caught by an inspector. My shop’s whole brand is being a legitimate business."

"Eeehhh... don't be like that! Help me out, Marl-tan! I’m broke! I don’t even know my left from my right in this century!"

"What is with that 'Marl-tan' nonsense...?"

"If you don't help me, I might start telling people things. Things that may or may not be true! Like, 'I’m the partner-in-crime of that salvager, Marl-tan!'"

"Wa—Wait! Stop it! Don't even joke about that!!"

"I’ve got nothing left to lose anyway! Hehehe! I’ll do it! I’ll totally do it!"

"You... you’ve got a real nasty streak, don’t you? But it’s no use. I have a strict policy: I don't work for free."

Taro let out a frustrated groan at Marl’s stubbornness. Suddenly, a third voice—cool and composed—cut through the bickering.

"I have a proposal, if I may, Miss Marl."

"Um, sure, but who is this? I thought there was only one person on that ship."

"Pardon my rudeness, Miss Marl. I am Koume, a possession of Mr. Teiro. I look forward to our future acquaintance."

"Stop! Stop right there! That sounds incredibly wrong no matter how you hear it! Change your phrasing!"

Taro frantically slapped at Koume’s chassis, but the AI ignored him and pressed on.

"First, I, Koume, along with the Imperial Government, can guarantee that the ownership of this vessel belongs solely to Mr. Teiro. I can assert with absolute certainty that the records within this ship are robust enough to hold up in a court of law."

"Yeah, I got that part. Keep going."

"Certainly, Miss Marl. Tell me, did you happen to witness the moment this vessel collided with the WIND drone? Despite the severity of the impact, the ship's armor plating only suffered minor deformation."

"Yeah, I saw it. Wait, what is that stuff made of—"

"Black Metal Type IN."

Koume cut her off with clinical precision. Taro had no clue what that meant, but he heard Marl suck in a sharp breath over the comms.

"Hey, don't leave me in the dark, Koume-chan. What's this 'Black Metal' stuff?"

"Yes, Mr. Teiro. Black Metal refers to an alloy created by bonding carbon fiber into a titanium-like metal through a specialized process. It is incredibly strong, flexible, and possesses high shield conductivity. Aside from being a nightmare to process, it is the ideal metal for armor."

"Huh. I knew it felt sturdy. And what about the 'Type IN' part?"

The answer didn't come from Koume this time. Marl’s voice drifted through the line, sounding faint.

"Type IN stands for Type Imperial Navy. As in, military-grade specs for the Imperial Navy. Honestly, now I want to get involved with you even less."

"That may be true, Miss Marl," Koume said. She paused for a beat—a pause that felt far too human, as if she were savoring the moment. "However... it is also extremely valuable."

The statement hung in the air like a heavy weight. A long silence stretched between the three of them.

"………… Fine. I give up. What's the split?" Marl finally sighed, sounding utterly defeated.

Taro pumped a fist in the air. "You can name your price! I have absolutely no concept of how money works anyway! Hehehe!"

"Eeeehh!? Why are you so proud of that?! And who just hands over all the leverage to the person they're negotiating with? Are you insane?"

"The answer is yes, Miss Marl," Koume chimed in.

"You're supposed to defend me, Koume-chan!!"

"Haa... whatever. Fine. We’ll say you’re covering the repair costs for the Rocky. And let me tell you, it won't be cheap."

"Deal!"

"............ You. Someday, you are deeeefinitely going to get scammed by a professional."

Marl’s voice was dripping with pity before the line cut out with a burst of static. Taro threw his hands up and stood tall like a conquering hero, letting out a victory cry.

[DOCKING APPROACH STARTING]

A massive warning flashed across the BISHOP display. While Taro was momentarily mesmerized by the gargantuan space station looming ahead, he stayed focused, manually tweaking the Attitude Control Jets to guide the ship toward the dock.

"It’s huge... it’s a hundred times bigger than I imagined..."

The cylindrical station reminded Taro of those old sci-fi space colonies. It didn't have glass windows, but its massive hull was armored in solar panels, with docking piers jutting out in every direction like the legs of a metallic spider. Countless ships were moored there, while vessels of all shapes and sizes buzzed around like busy insects.

"Mr. Teiro, I have just received a data packet from the station. Alba Station is classified as a medium-sized facility with a population of six million. Due to the proximity of a Stargate, it serves as a major transit hub for the core planets."

"This is 'medium'...? Wait, people actually live on the station?"

"...I do not comprehend the nature of your question, Mr. Teiro. Ninety-eight percent of the population of the Galactic Empire resides within the Living Quarters of such stations. Is this not a basic fact?"

"Eeeehh!? Then everyone is basically an alien now! This is way beyond culture shock!?"

[WARNING: PLEASE USE DESIGNATED AUTOMATED APPROACH PROGRAM]

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for the tip. But this ship doesn't have an engine, so your fancy program is useless!"

Taro snapped back at the annoying holographic warnings cluttering his vision. He continued to dance his fingers across the controls, making micro-adjustments to the Attitude Control Jets based on the ship's rapidly updating telemetry.

[WARNING CLEARED: ROUTE NORMALIZED]

Calculating the deceleration based on his massive inertia, Taro flipped the jets to full reverse. The ship, already crawling like a tortoise, slowed even further.

[WARNING: PLEASE USE DESIGNATED AUTOMATED LANDING PROGRAM]

"I told you, I don't have an engine, you piece of junk!! And I don't have landing legs either!!"

Taro was practically screaming now. He gave the jets one final, precisely timed burst. The ship's relative velocity hit zero. Perfectly stationary.

[DOCKING COMPLETE. WELCOME TO ALBA STATION.]

"Gee, thanks," Taro muttered. He watched the display as thin tether wires snaked out from the station’s pier. Eventually, a flexible docking tube extended like a literal snake and latched onto his ship’s hatch.

"Good work. Hey, what was that?" Marl’s voice came through Koume again. "That was a really weird docking sequence. Did you do that manually?"

"Uh, manually? I guess? I don't know, I was just rewriting the flight program as I went."

"...I’m sorry, I don't understand a word of what you just said."

"Eeehh? Look, I had to build a landing program on the fly. I didn't have a choice! You can barely even call this thing a ship anymore."

"...Wait, you mean in real-time? That’s insane... are you a Gift holder?"

"A Gift? Sorry, babe. The only present I’ve got for you is this ruggedly handsome body."

"...Whatever. I’m coming over to get you, so stay put. I bet you don’t even know how to walk, do you?"

"How to walk? Please! I've been walking for nearly twenty years!"

Taro huffed at the insult. How rude could she be? However, a few minutes later, he was forced to realize she was exactly right.

In his excitement, he had completely forgotten that once he stepped out of his ship's artificial gravity, he'd be in a zero-G environment.

Translating scenes with minimal narration has proven that making characters sound distinct is incredibly hard.

No wonder authors love giving everyone weird verbal tics...