by Jay Key
“Oh hey, Duke! Hey, Ishiro’shea! Nice to see you two again,” chimed in Flaph, oblivious to the last few exchanges.
Duke waved back. Ishiro’shea extended a thumbs-up.
“Flaph, Glortos, are we good to go?” asked Dallas.
“Yeah,” they both stated in tandem.
“Keep your visuals open. As soon as we see the mining facility damaged, we’re heading in. Get out and join the rest.”
“Got it,” said Flaph. “When we’re done, get some rest.”
“No, you moron,” barked Reebor, “he said ‘join the rest,’ got it?”
“Oh, I thought we were gonna blow up the Four I’s facilities in the North,” muttered the confused crime boss.
“Flaph,” began Dallas, “you and Glortos go and blow those facilities at the northern pole to dust. When you’re done, just follow Glortos.”
“Got it.”
Both men faded from the view screen.
Duke Dallas turned around to face his crew.
“Let’s hope he knows where the North Pole is.”
Chapter 9
A Shut Window
EXPLOSIONS DOTTED THE NORTHERN CONTINENT of Tardasio 5 like a bad case of acne. Flaph Goomshoot’s flagship swung back over the fiery landmass and concentrated one last assault on the main mining facility. It was a direct hit. As his craft exited the lower atmosphere, the plant erupted in a giant blue fireball. A subsequent chain reaction was triggered by the salvo and, moments later, ancillary explosions burst from the mines themselves. Goomshoot and Reebor had successfully knocked out the entire operation in a matter of seconds.
“Good, good,” Dallas muttered softly, only just audible enough for Duke to hear. “Now it’s our turn.”
He stood up and addressed all of his crew members again. Clearly not his first time in front of a crew. Stations were manned and attentions were focused on the pending attack.
“So not only is this main hub the most heavily guarded and not only is it situated beside the largest concentration of military outposts in the Tardasio System at Pentos City, but we are the final wave—which means they might actually be prepared for us,” Duke said to Ishiro’shea. “Overall, it’s a solid plan. Selfishly, I wish we would’ve been held captive on those Cyclopsian ships. Better life expectancy, I’m afraid.”
“Are we ready, Jerry?” asked Duke Dallas.
The Sabromm officer nodded.
“Engage with mission protocol,” commanded Dallas.
The imposing ship began to move. It had exited the shadows of Tardasio 2 and acquired a direct sightline to the Four I’s planetary base before Duke could even blink.
This plan would really suck if the Tardasio System wasn’t so densely packed, thought Duke.
“Forward, direct course to Pentos City. Patch me into our fighters, Jerry,” commanded Dallas.
The Sabromm did as instructed.
“Team, Dallas here,” he said, speaking into the communications panel, “you have your orders. Follow the course, don’t veer off in the slightest. There’ll be some anti-aircraft fire from Pentos City. They’ve had enough time to scramble a pretty salty defense. Ignore it and push through. We have to take down those facilities. I’ll handle the forces in Pentos, then swing back and finish off the last of those plants... assuming y’all leave me any.”
The pilots clearly relished Dallas’ optimism. They all replied with a chorus of yips, yells, and sounds that could only be construed as a confident “Heck yeah, boss.”
Duke walked over to Dallas. Jerry seemed annoyed that someone would approach the captain’s chair without following proper protocol. But the Nova Texan didn’t really care what the Sabromm thought.
“Hey, not to be a backseat pilot…” Duke began.
“But you’re about to be one,” Dallas replied.
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Not right now, Duke. We’re heading in. This is the proverbial ‘it.’ Too late for any revisions now.”
“You’re probably right,” the bounty hunter responded. He turned around and walked slowly to join Ishiro’shea at the back of the bridge.
“What is it?” Dallas huffed. “I know you have something to say, so just say it.”
Duke spun around gleefully. “You agree that they’ve had enough time to request some backup, right?”
“Yes. They are nothing if not efficient.”
“Right. But none have come through, right?”
“Correct. We have an entire squad guarding the nearest warp station. If they start to come through, we’ll blast ‘em before they know what hit ‘em.”
“Wonderful,” said Duke. “And have they come through?”
“Nope. What are you getting at, Duke?”
“We’re confident that they called for help. We’re confident that help will come. We’re confident that it hasn’t come from the warp station. So...” Duke paused to allow Dallas to finish the thought.
“They’re already here,” Dallas replied, his tone suddenly solemn. “But we’ve scanned Tardasio 2. Tardasio 3 and 4 are accounted for as well. Tardasio 6 is so far away that an immediate strike isn’t plausible.”
“Same with Tardasio 1,” added Jerry, obviously having eavesdropped on the conversation.
“The Tardasians aren’t known for their facility with numbers,” Duke replied.
“What does that even mean?” scowled Jerry.
“It means that—” Duke started.
Dallas cut him off. “Tardasio 7 is closer to us than Tardasio 6. Jerry, tell me we scanned Tardasio 7.”
“We did not, sir,” the Sabromm replied. “We didn’t think that—”
“Full power ahead!” Dallas yelled. “Our window for success just shrank dramatically. We have to hit those targets before we become the targets.”
“Full power!” echoed Jerry.
Hefty’s flagship rattled and began its march towards Tardasio 5.
Then it rattled again—but this time it wasn’t due to its engines. This rattling was from fire. Enemy fire. Fire from the ships that were hidden on Tardasio 7.
“Looks like our window might have just shut,” Duke whispered to Ishiro’shea.
“Sir,” started Jerry, “it might be worse than we feared.”
“Go on,” replied Dallas.
“They have an Armada Titan.”
Murmurs permeated the bridge. Duke sensed the level of confidence dropping quickly. He could almost see it—like water gushing from a bucket with a brand new hole.
Dallas was calm. This was clearly not his first rodeo.
“Return fire. Protect the squadron at all costs. They have to destroy those targets.”
The ship was rocked again.
The Titan.
“Hold steady. We have the best weapons in the gods-damn galaxy, let’s use ‘em!”
“They won’t work on something that big!” replied a weapons officer.
“Then take out everything else. That ship can’t take out all of our ships. Let them focus on us.”
The command was met with some reluctance, though it seemed to Duke that they were following Dallas’ orders. The ship was hit hard yet again but kept firing. Hefty had loaded it up with armaments that were neither legal on most planets nor even available in the general—or any—market. Rays and lasers and beams lit up the celestial battlefield. Some were obviously experimental but most proved effective against the Four I’s lighter craft. The Titan showed no damage.
“Jerry, patch me in with Mama Fong. And the Saber.”
“Done, sir.”
Mama Fong, backed by a few other noted bounty hunters, appeared on the screen first. Then at the bottom, an elderly humanoid popped up. His disheveled silver hair was in contrast to his weathered, burnt skin. He sported a conical hat of midnight blue, highlighted by accents the same color as his hair. He wore an eye patch.
“Have you ever seen one of the Mystic Sabers, Ish?” asked Duke.
Ishiro’shea shook his head. In fact, Duke didn’t know any
one that had actually met one. They were a powerful criminal organization, but their work was subtle and discreet. They influenced more than coerced, and they were good at it.
“We have a problem,” Dallas began. “There was a full reserve force on Tardasio 7. It’s been activated.”
“How big?” asked the Zylantian.
“Big enough. And they have an Armada Titan.”
“I’m sorry, Dallas,” Mama Fong continued, “we’re in a scrap here. If we disengage, they’re just going to follow us back to you.”
“I know. How about the Saber?”
The man’s expression did not change but his eyes closed. Then his head began to wobble slightly. After a few moments, his eyes opened.
“That’s unfortunate,” replied Dallas. “Make sure they don’t get out of that warp station. Take out the station if you need to. There are other ways that we can get back.”
He’s a telepath, Duke realized. No wonder the Saber and its members are so quiet.
“If either of you can spare any support, we need it,” Dallas pleaded. “Until then, we’ll continue as planned.” He cut the communication.
Another huge explosion on the outside of the ship forced a partial roll, throwing many of the officers from their stations. Duke Dallas held steady as if his feet were glued to the floor.
He looked over at Duke and Ishiro’shea. “You two, meet me outside the bridge,” he ordered. “Jerry, you’re in control until I get back.”
“What?”
“Jerry, it’s not that hard. Just tell everyone to fire everything they’ve got. Protect our ships!”
“Yes, sir.”
Duke and Ishiro’shea left the bridge. Dallas followed closely behind them.
“Over here,” he said, motioning the bounty hunters into a nook in the hallway. The color was drained from his face; his cheeks hollowed. “Good call on the surprise attack, Duke. Very impressive.”
“I kinda wish I’d been wrong on that one.”
“I know. Look, you both know this isn’t likely to end well,” Dallas said, biting his lower lip.
“What? We can take ‘em.”
“No, Duke. I don’t see a way that we survive this. I feel like it’s my fault that you’re here.”
“No,” began the Nova Texan.
“It is. Don’t argue with me, please.”
Okay, he’s right, thought Duke. It is.
“So what do you need from us?”
“I have a feeling that there’s more to the Heart of Nobunaga than you led us to believe. I don’t know why. Call it fatherly intuition.”
“Let’s just call it plain ol’ intuition for now,” Duke remarked.
“Fine. But in my gut, it’s part of all of this. About LePaco. The Four I’s. Everything.”
“And?”
Duke Dallas handed him an electronic card. “Take this.”
“What is it?”
“I have a shuttle craft at the rear. It’s not some escape pod; it’s one of our attack ships, slightly modified. Fewer weapons but more speed. You and Ishiro’shea head back to T’ckuvu Prime and...”
“Wait. You’re letting us bust out of this place?”
“Letting you? I’m giving you a map. Continue on your mission, whatever it is. Destroy LePaco.”
“Thanks and all, but how are we going to get through the warp station? It’s a war zone.”
“This ship can get you far beyond this system, and quickly. I’m sure that you’ll find an alternate route to Prime.”
“And the card?”
“Go to Hefty’s casino. Go to the parking garage and give this to the attendant. No need to say anything. Your ship will be there.”
“He parked the Deus in his casino’s parking garage?”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Your weapons. I brought ‘em. I stored them on the shuttle. I had a weird notion that you were going to have to use this craft.”
More fatherly intuition? thought Duke.
The ship was hit hard again by the Four I’s weaponry.
“Go! Now!” Dallas yelled.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
Duke Dallas grabbed his son’s hand. He stared directly at him, his eyes unblinking.
“Seeing you again, even under these circumstances, has made me the happiest man in the universe. I now know what my son became—and it’s exponentially better than anything that I could’ve imagined. Or that I deserve.”
Dallas’ eyes swelled. A steady trickle of tears fell down his cheeks and met his upturned lips. His smile subsided and became the terse expression of a leader facing a challenge that he couldn’t win.
“Go, Duke LaGrange. Save the universe.”
Chapter 10
The Luckiest Man Alive
VERY FEW CITIES ESCAPED THE global devastation of World War XVII, and during the hundred cycles since its conclusion, even fewer had managed to rebuild themselves. Kyoto was no different. The once burgeoning metropolis and cultural center of Japan had been reduced to ruins and subsequently abandoned by the survivors in the region. Generations came and went and Kyoto became just an area of dilapidated buildings beyond the mountains in the Yamashiro Basin. The people that sprung up around the deceased city chose to live a more simple lifestyle, feeding off the bounty of the land and the three rivers that called the basin home—the Ujigawa to the south, Kamogawa to the east, and the Katsuragawa to the west. This trio pumped life into the region from Lake Biwa to the northeast, one of the last bodies of water to remain uncorrupted by the war. The lake and its far-reaching tributaries were worshipped as deities.
“It’s unusually cold today,” said Ayuko Nobunaga as she dipped her finger into the steady current of the Katsuragawa. “I’m hoping that means the fish are extra eager to jump into my net.”
“You’ve never had any problems with them before,” replied Takeo. “I still think you trick them somehow. You’re like a siren. The Fish Siren. You catch them like you caught me.”
Ayuko blushed and splashed some water at her husband. “You’re lucky to have me.”
“I know, I know. And you’re lucky to—”
“Yes? I’m lucky to what?” Lucky to have you?”
“I was going to say, lucky to live near such a beautiful city as Kyoto,” Takeo said with a smirk. “Its beauty is only matched by yours, my sweet wife.”
“Hey now,” she pouted. “That’s crossing the line, Takeo.”
“You’re right, my love. It’s not funny to even kid about that smoldering heap of garbage that was once Kyoto.”
“When I was a little girl, my grandfather told me about his grandfather telling him about it. It sounds like it was once a glorious place,” said Ayuko. “Now, it’s just a reminder of the war. I just wish the rivers could wash it out to Lake Biwa and we could start over. Build a new Kyoto.”
“And the fact that those foreigners are still trying to find something there just makes it worse. The smoke and noise from their machines won’t allow us to forget about it.”
“What are they even looking for anyway?” asked Ayuko. “There’s nothing there but mangled concrete and broken glass.”
“I heard from the others in the village that the men are from Oceania—you know, the Coalition.”
“Do they still run the world?”
“I think so,” answered Takeo. “That’s the beauty of being so isolated here—we don’t have to worry about that. But the villagers told me that the Oceania Coalition men think there’s a stash of active warheads buried below the city.”
“From the Seventeenth World War?”
“I guess. Or the sixteenth. No, it’s definitely the seventeenth.”
“What was that one about again?”
“I don’t remember, if I’m being honest. They all run together. I’m no history buff and I didn’t really pay attention to Earth history in school.”
“I bet it had something to do with those warheads. I doubt they�
��re still active after all these years,” said Ayuko.
“I don’t know, they don’t expire, do they? They could still be quite powerful. Maybe more powerful than anything they have now.”
“Why do they need more powerful weapons? Or weapons at all? Has the planet recovered from the last war?”
“You’re a dreamer, wife. A pretty dreamer but a dreamer, nonetheless. It has not recovered. And the recovery periods become longer after each war. Pretty soon, we won’t ever recover. There will always be someone or some place that wants to control the rest. It’s human nature.”
The roar of a once-glorious skyscraper toppling over at the hands of the Oceania Coalition rumbled in the distance. The building must have been quite large as the seismic tremor rippled to the banks of the Katsugawara, sending Takeo into the shallow end rather unceremoniously. His wife giggled uncontrollably at the sight of her drenched husband.
“Hey, stop that! Or I’ll throw you in here!” he joked.
“Then who would catch us dinner? I’m the only one that ever catches anything, remember?”
Still submerged in the water but now sitting up, Takeo wrestled with something in the folds of his shirt.
“Oh yeah? What do you call this then?” he asked. In his hands he clutched a wriggling Crucian carp.
“Luck.”
“I call it dinner.”
“Then you can cook it,” Ayuko fired back, smiling.
Something else pressed against Takeo’s chest. But it wasn’t a fish. He reached into his shirt again but his smile turned to a confused frown.
“Did you catch breakfast for tomorrow as well, oh great fisherman of mine?”
“No… but I caught this.” He pulled out a bright metallic pendant and showed it to his wife.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Maybe I caught your birthday present?”
“I think the fact that you caught a fish is birthday present enough,” she laughed.
Takeo examined the odd medallion. It looked weathered from countless cycles underwater, the current of the mighty Katsuragawa slowly breaking it down.
“I think it’s ancient,” he said. “It looks ancient. You know what? I’ll apply it to the base my katana. It’s not too heavy as to disrupt the balance of the blade.”
