Pioneers: Creation

Propaganda

Propaganda


present...


         “What the hell are you doing here?”  It was the most obvious, predictable question in the universe.  He must’ve said it pretty harshly, too, as Alanya flinched back a bit and Kenshi saw she was looking more than a little frightened.


         “I...” she began then bit her lip.


         “Shit,” Kenshi said, rubbing a hand over his eyes.  He started forward and the young princess stumbled back a step, allowing a wide berth for him to exit the cockpit.  “Follow me,” he said in passing.  Mind swirling like never before, he made his way to the living quarters and was pleased to hear her doing as told.  There he sat down on one side of the black L-shaped couch and motioned for her to do the same.  She did so, as far from him as she could manage.


         “You followed me,” he said, somewhere between a question and an observation of disbelief.  Alanya only nodded.  “Why?”  The words spilled out so fast it was hard to catch them all.


         “You left the ball without a word and I wanted to know what was up and then there was Narnia and...”  She stopped, took a deep breath.  “Why’d you leave, Desmond?”  Kenshi sighed, leaned his head back into the seat and closed his eyes, considering.  He opened them a moment later.


         “My name’s not Desmond.”  Looking at her he saw she had her head cocked slightly, her eyes wide.  ‘Mother fucker.’


         “What...”


         “My name is Kenshi Tamaki,” he interrupted.  “And I’m the second most wanted person in the galaxy.”  She blinked, a disbelieving smile slowly appearing on her face.  Again, he sighed.


         “Kenshi...Tamaki?  What kind of name is that?”  He rolled his eyes.  “What’s going on, Desmond?  Seriously.  Why’d you leave?”


         “A wanted man has no place in a fancy castle serving a princess.  I came, did what I needed to do, and left.”


         Her smile faltered a bit and the young princess said, “Are you trying to tell me you were responsible for that video?”  He nodded, she blinked again, her face paling.  “Narnia...she peeled off her skin...that was...”


         “Ruki.  The only person more wanted than myself.”


         Alanya’s mouth moved wordlessly a moment.  Then, “You were kissing her.”  He winced.


         “I was.”  Alanya somehow scooted further from him on the couch.


         “What did you want from me?”


         Kenshi frowned and said, “A way to get to Aiston Malcom.”


         “You used me,” she said, the last of her smile disappearing to make her face neutral.


         “I did.”  The princess picked her knees up, hugging them.


         “Why?”  Kenshi massaged the bridge of his nose, feeling his lack of sleep coming back fast.  He thought a moment before answering.


         “You saw the video.  Malcom was responsible for the theft of something big.  I needed to take him out, one way or another,” he said.  Alanya did nothing to reply.  Sighing one last time, Kenshi stood up and began walking to his bedroom.


         “Where are you going?” he heard her whisper.  He glanced back at her.


         “To sleep.  Haven’t had time to do that in awhile.”


         “When will we go home?”  Kenshi cocked his head, many new realizations hitting him at once and making him all the more exhausted.


         “Girly,” he said, “if that whole planet isn’t tearing itself apart for me right now I’d be surprised.  They probably think I took you and they know I have what Malcom stole.  It’s going to be awhile.”


         With that he turned away and shut himself into his room, his fingers clenching and unclenching.  A moment’s curiosity had him sitting at the desk, pushing the disk into his computer.  Kenshi shook his head sadly as the blackbox storage of the Titan greeted him warmly on the screen.


         He took the disk out, setting it on the desk, and fell onto the largest bed he’d ever dared sleep on.  Seconds later he was in a very fitful sleep.


-------------------------


         Two MPG escorted Terrace to the emperor’s office in the aftermath of the Cindelliac Ball.  It’d taken a good two hours to reorganize, calm and send people on their way and by now the commander was dying for sleep, but Berin Midolloni, it seemed, was in an impatient mood.


         Upon entering the office it was quick to see the usually calm leader’s distress.  He was pacing the room, his face a mixture of worry and anger and he didn’t even notice Terrace’s arrival at first.  When he did he stopped his pacing, a deadly mask of neutrality coming to his face like the Terran had never seen on him before.


         “Tell me you know what is going on,” Berin said, his voice loud, clear and without emotion.


         “I do,” Terrace replied.  The emperor motioned him to continue.  “Tamaki wanted to put Malcom away.  He saw this as his chance to do so.”


         “You knew nothing of this before it transpired?”


         “I doubt anyone but Tamaki did, Emperor.”  Berin frowned at that and resumed his pacing.


         “I do not know this will keep Malcom locked away,” the emperor said.  “The bastard is slippery.”  He looked at Terrace.  “If Malcom is released will Tamaki continue after him?”


         “He will.”


         “Will he kill him?”  The commander clenched his jaw for moment.


         “I don’t know.”  Berin looked away, still pacing.  It was then Terrace reached into his coat.  “I do have good news, however.”


         “What is it?” the leader asked, his pacing halted once again.  Terrace took out the disk in his coat and, smiling, showed it to the wide-eyed emperor.


         Or that was the plan, anyway.


         He couldn’t find the damn thing and as he reached further into his pockets, Berin’s eyebrow began to raise in steadily growing impatience.  It was then the door opened and the empress stormed in, worry seeping from her every pour.


         “I cannot find her,” she said, ignoring Terrace’s presence.  “The MPG have torn the keep apart, but nobody can find her or her bodyguard.”  Any anger and impatience the commander saw in Berin was soon taken over by the same profound worry.  The emperor muttered a curse, turning away.


         “Excuse me for asking, Emperor, but who is missing?” Terrace asked.


         “My daughter Alanya,” he replied, back still turned.  “She is always getting into trouble, but I’m afraid with the recent occurrences I am more worried than is usual.”


         Terrace tried to place the girl and, after a moment, recalled the pretty young brunette he’d seen a time or two.  She’d been at the ball, he remembered.  Had entered with the rest of the Royal Family right in front of...


         ...Tamaki.


         “Emperor, I must ask what your daughter’s bodyguard looked like,” Terrace said.  Berin turned to look at him questioningly, but it was his wife who answered.


         “He was a Terran, tall, pale, bald and bearded.  I’m sure you saw him at the ball.  He was one of the few not wearing robes.”  The commander couldn’t see his own expression, but by the way his blood had gone cold and the way the two leaders suddenly turned their full attention to him meant he had to be giving something away.


         “Why do you ask?” Berin asked slowly, his voice holding all the deadly authority a man could imagine at that point.


         “That man...” Terrace said, trying to find his words.  At the visible impatience growing on the emperor’s face he forced himself to spit it out.  “That was Kenshi Tamaki.”


         It was like a storm in the office of Emperor Berin Midolloni right then.  All the anger and might of a ferocious whirlwind as well as the confusion one might expect from being bombarded with blow after blow.  The questions kept coming, worse even than during the ball.


         “How could you let this happen?  How could you not know?  How long have you known?  Why didn’t I hear of this earlier?  Where is he now?  Why didn’t you do anything about this?  What sort of damn fool are you?  How could you let this happen?”


         When things looked to have calmed down the emperor was turned away from him, the empress looking coldly on as the Terran stood slumped in place.  It was a few minutes before Berin turned to regard him once more.


         “You mentioned good news,” he said.  Panicking, the commander resumed his search through his pockets to no avail.  The disk was gone, as if Tamaki had never given it to him.


         ...as if Tamaki had never given it to him.


         “Well, what is it?” the emperor thundered, bringing him back to the oh-so uncomfortable moment.


         Terrace cleared his throat and said, “I know where Ruki is.”


-------------------------


         It was funny the way Davnick kept looking at her, expecting her to snap at any moment.  Hilarious, really.  She half wondered what he’d do if he knew what she’d done, but that was something best kept between her and Kenshi.  Wouldn’t want anyone to think she was going soft, after all.


         They were packing, wanting to ship out before, in all the heat and bustle, the MPG stumbled upon them.  Ruki didn’t have much on her aside from what clothes she’d stolen from fellow visitors and the little equipment she always kept, not to mention the black dress she still wore, but Dav seemed to have enough recon equipment to stash back into his bag she wondered briefly if he’d been a private eye or some such before stepping into the high life.


         “What happens now?” Dav finally spoke up.  She shrugged, leaning back against a wall as she watched him try to force an overstuffed bag closed.


         “Go around, take a vacation.  Maybe see how Ployer’s holding up.  Can tag along if you want.”  He looked up at her, surprise easy to find on his face.


         “You’re not going after Tamaki?” he asked.  “Would’ve figured you’d be want to hunt him down.”  Ruki only grinned in response.


         Davnick was slinging his bag over his shoulder when she heard it.  Her smile widening, she pushed away from the wall, the footsteps loud as gunshots to her sensitive ears.  In a moment Davnick noticed too and he glanced at the door just as the MPG kicked it in.


         They made a mess of it.  Not muffling their steps, no outside cover, a slow entrance with the best of the available MPG - men who wielded plasma swords not fit for a quick grab like they were planning.  She guessed the emperor had stupidly allowed his petty GA do the job with teams not trained for this work instead of sending for a few squads from the MMC base next door.  And wouldn’t you know it, the dark-skinned Midollonian was the last one through the door.


         “Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” Gerald demanded and Ruki couldn’t help but laugh.  “Do as I tell you!” he said, his face red despite his skin color.  She raised her arms up.


         “Do I look like I’m holding any weapons?” she said.  Gerald scowled and she saw Davnick, arms up high and bag on the ground, back to the side wall.  Ruki flashed her teeth in a grin then looked back at the GA.


         “Sorry, princess, but your crook is in another castle.  Don’t know where he is or what he’ll do.  Too bad.  Looks like the ghost of Orlius gave you the slip.”


         “‘cuff them,” Gerald said and two of the MPG disengaged their swords to pull out a pair of handcuffs.


         When one tried to reach for her is when it turned to chaos.  Shooting her hand forward she broke the man’s sternum and sent him flying back.  Nobody had even registered what’d happened when she grabbed the arm of the man trying to take Dav and pulled it roughly enough to send him to the floor, but not before she heard the pop which signaled the appendage was no longer in it’s joint.  The nearest swordsman was rushing in at that point, but it was a blind charge.  Between her high kick and his momentum he didn’t have much of a chance and she heard as much as saw his head snap back sickeningly.  She didn’t stay to see if he was alive, however, as by then she’d grabbed Davnick and was jetting through the wall as if it were air.


         The grounds outside were empty, as she thought, allowing more ease getting the hell away.  After the adrenaline died down she felt Davnick clawing to her desperately and decided to give the man a break and let him down.


         Setting down next to a taxi, the driver barely had time for a startled glance before Ruki smashed her hand through the window and, ignoring her temporarily broken fingers, grabbed the man and pulled his head hard against the glass repeatedly until he slumped, unconscious.  Her ears picked up commotion somewhere in the castle behind her, MPG going nuts trying to find her.  And soon MMC as well.  She grinned.


         Davnick was cursing and struggling over her shoulder, but she paid him little mind.  Unlocking the taxi, she ripped her hand out the window, opened the door, threw the cabby out and tossed Dav in.


         “Fuck,” he grunted, cornering himself in the opposite seat as Ruki set herself down and turned the vehicle on.  She smiled wickedly over to him a moment then lifted off, speeding through traffic and skyscrapers toward the spaceport.


-------------------------


         ‘God, she’s fast,’ Davnick thought as he watched the scenery whizz by.  Seeing the many building’s soft shields flash blue, he figured it was a miracle they hadn’t flattened themselves yet and no MMC could seem to keep a bead on them for longer than a few seconds before the pirate twisted around so many buildings and intersections even he couldn’t tell where the hell they were.


         Part of that was, of course, drawn from the desperate fear Ruki would nick a building or car and finally blow them both to hell.


         The taxi made another turn and suddenly there was the port, alive even at this time of night with lights and dim figures moving across the structures and landing pads.  As well as the turrets.


         Somehow they must’ve gotten the taxi’s frequency because the things were up well before warning range and tracking them through the limited nighttime traffic.  For all Ruki seemed to care.


         “Ruki they have the guns up...”  He stopped when he heard her laughing.  Sparing a look at the crazed woman Davnick found her grinning insanely, all focus on her destination.  His fingers clutched the seat and door and he felt himself nearly release his bladder.  For a moment he could’ve sworn he’d even seen a few moments of his life flash by.


         The car dived, Davnick’s gut clenched with the sudden weightlessness and he closed his eyes as the thunderous cannons from at least three turrets tried to shred them.  Then she was holding him and he felt a surge of whiplash as cold air rushed over him.  He forced his eyes open in time to see the cab practically disintegrate below him, Ruki speeding away with him in her arms clutching her like the lifeline she was.


         The turrets, their target destroyed, retracted smoothly back into the spaceport’s tall perimeter walls.  Even through the wind, the traffic, the ships breaking the sound barrier and sirens coming closer by the second her laugh was loudest of all.  Then they were racing toward the walls and before he could even grasp tighter in protest they were on the other side as if the thick concrete was little more than air.


         Davnick took the moment to look around in a mix between relief and a long-time combatant’s instinct.  His blood ran cold, however, when he found a large yacht approaching them at a startling pace.  This time he did manage to cry out, as much good as it did him.  Next thing he knew he was staring at his precious Hindsight inside the Venoudious’ docking bay.


         Ruki promptly set him down and said, “Start her up, get her outside and don’t leave without me.  If you take off early there’ll be MMC on your ass before you’re outside the atmosphere.”  She didn’t even give him a second glance before becoming a blur.


         “I bit off way more than I can chew,” the merc muttered.  He heard the bay doors open and caught a glimpse of a black-dressed blur then shook his head and made his way into his precious speeder.


         Falling onto his chair, Davnick took a moment to mourn over the rather expensive equipment he’d been unable to take with him in the rush.  Burlai would have to cover him.


         ‘Burlai...’ Davnick thought a moment.  ‘He knew where we were.  Must’ve given us up.  Damn.’  He scowled then started his ship, going over a quick systems check.  All good, the mercenary pushed the ship into a hover and guided it out the spacious docking bay.


         When he finally got a good view outside Venoudious it took a moment for him to register what was going on.  The landing pads were full of hovering ships, large and small, prepping for takeoff.  Control would never allow simultaneous takeoffs within a close space so people usually saved fuel and kept their ships down, but this...


         He caught a flash of Ruki, speeding across a landing pad from a hovering ship to one of the few still grounded.  She disappeared inside the cockpit and seconds later that ship, too, was hovering.  That’s when Davnick noticed the MMC cars and troop transports.


         At first he thought there’d be a fight when his eyes settled onto two of the six or seven vehicles set ablaze.  Then he saw the bodies.  Dead or unconscious, it didn’t matter much.  What did matter was that in the few minutes he’d been prepping his ship, Ruki had prepped a dozen or more others and taken out a couple dozen MMC - what looked to be four, maybe five cars carrying a pair each from their police division and two small troop transports which could’ve carried anywhere from two to 10 men each.


         ‘Too damn fast,’ he thought, watching another ship hover into the air.  He saw Ruki speed out, noticed her heading his way and almost took off right there.  ‘This is fucking insane.  How is this at all possible?’


         “This thing ready?” she asked from behind him, making the veteran merc jump a bit.


         “Y-yeah.  Where to?”


         “Hold on.  Wait about 15 seconds.”  He looked back at her and, seeing the pirate smile wickedly at the view screen, looked back.  One second passed by, then another.  On the third an all new kind of hell broke out.  It started with one ship blasting a few meters higher, angling itself and then shooting upward.  A barrage from somewhere out in orbit crippled it almost immediately, ripping the front apart and sending the mid-sized ship careening into a hangar.  That was only the beginning.


         Before the ship even lost course two more were in the air.  One was the next focus of the artillery, but the other went untouched.  As did the next few.  All around them ships were pushing into the sky, some leaving smoke trailers, others not.  He saw one pair crash into each other a couple hundred meters up, exploding then raining large chunks of shrapnel onto the landing pads below.


         “Alright, go!”  Davnick’s hands worked instinctively, angling his speeder, finding direction in the mess of blind ships and finally pushing the throttle.


         It took less than a minute to feel the heavy turbulence subside signaling they’d broken the atmosphere and by then the merc felt like pissing himself again.  A fleet was waiting, fighters at ready, watching the many ships break into space and go off in their separate directions.  Not attacking, though.  No, too good a chance of killing too many civies like that.


         Davnick would’ve guessed he couldn’t be more impressed by that point.  He would’ve been wrong.  When he saw the first unmanned ship flash away he thought it was a trick of his eyes, but when five more did it in entirely different directions he knew what was happening.  The damn pirate had even set hyperdrive coordinates.


         ‘Too fast, too perfect.  MMC aren’t set to follow a dozen spacecraft at once and they can’t shoot us all down.  We just made a clean getaway from the practical military headquarters of the galaxy.’


         “Run coordinates to the Vern system.  We’ll make a break from there, probably head back to Haqnen,” Ruki said then exited the cockpit to relax in the main room.  Davnick did as instructed and moments later they were resting comfortably in hyperspace, well away from any MMC.  He relaxed a moment in his chair, hesitant to be in the same room as the pirate, but forced himself up and out the cockpit.


         Ruki was sitting with her back to him on a chair when he entered.  He hadn’t taken two steps when she said, “MMC did good hiring you.”


         He stopped in his tracks, his blood so cold he could swear he’d been frozen.  She turned toward him, a lopsided grin adorning her face and her features twisted in mischievous glee.


         “Really didn’t think your cover would last long did you?  MMC had no way to know where we were.  They were prepped, ready to take us down, as half-assed as they did it.  And unfortunately for you there’s only one person who could’ve and would’ve told them.”  Davnick didn’t even try for an excuse.  She was right and there was no real argument to make.  His body was shaking in pure fright, but he still managed to find the knife tucked into the small of his back.


         ‘Too fast,’ he thought a second later, his arms pinned to the wall and the switchblade lying forgotten on the floor.  ‘Too damn fast.’  Grinning, Ruki leaned in close, her elongated canines looking as sinister as could be about then.


         “Don’t get yourself killed so soon,” she said.  “I’m not finished having fun with you yet.”


-------------------------


         “You’re fired.”


         “My emperor...”


         “Get out, Gerald.  You are a disgrace.”


         “Please, you must understand...”  Berin scowled, his angry grimace turning uglier.


         “I understand that you are a pathetic leader, a foolish man and are in no way fit to serve directly under me.”


         “Emperor, please!”  Berin motioned for one of his guards and was satisfied to see no hesitation when the man grabbed Gerald’s robes and dragged him out despite his continuing protests.  The annoyance gone, Berin relaxed his face, running a hand tiredly over his eyes.


         “We will have to find another GA,” Faye said, standing behind his desk.


         “Later,” he replied.  “There’s more pressing concerns.  Commander Burlai?”


         “Sir?” the quiet man said.  The young officer had barely spoken since Berin had assigned Gerald into hunting Ruki.  Like he could blame him.  Part of him felt like casting the man down to some backwater station for the rest of his career.  The more sensible part knew this probably wasn’t the best time to change leadership.


         “Remind me how large of a force Giznek put you in charge of.”


         “One super carrier, the Bema, with a scouting compliment of ships and crew.”


         “Do you have any way of tracking Ruki or Tamaki?”


         “I can still track Ruki and have various conceivable plans of luring her if nothing else, however Tamaki I have nothing on.  Unless Malcom is released, of course, but I think we’ve already found how difficult he is to find even within an enclosed space.”


         “Yet Tamaki is the one with the data, yes?” Faye pointed out.


         “True, but I believe if anyone could lead us to him it would be Ruki.”


         “And how do you plan on trapping her?” Faye asked again.  “She has, after all, eluded capture and death for centuries now.”


         “This is something I am in the process of finalizing.  The trick is having her in one place long enough to do something about her.  As you have just witnessed, she has an uncanny speed.  The idea is to either lure her or move even faster.  For this I will be requesting specific strike teams from Admiral Gizneck to send to every planet and station in the galaxy with specialized orders and armament.”


         “I will speak to Giznek of this,” Berin said.  “He will also be sending you anything in his fleets he can spare.  I am giving you full command of this operation to do what needs to be done to retrieve Ruki and Tamaki...and get my daughter back.  I suggest you take wise advantage of this.”  Berin couldn’t see the commander’s look of surprise, having already turned away - the conversation over in his tired mind.  Burlai took it for what it was, luckily, and stood up, pausing for a second - probably to salute - before walking out the door.


         “You leave much in charge of somebody barely proven,” Faye said soon after they were alone.


         “Yet even proven soldiers have failed miserably against Ruki,” Berin said, moving to sit behind his desk and finally find some form of relaxation.


         “True.  Degross was an extremely capable leader.  He was set to root out much organized crime and perhaps change this to a more peaceful galaxy.  And Ruki broke him.”


         “I don’t know whether to throttle Burlai or have him promoted.  There is so much he has failed to do, yet so much of what he does is very sound.  I suppose I should give him that, at least.  What he is doing everybody has failed at.”


         “And what of Tamaki?”  Faye asked.  “It is likely Ruki will not or can not lead to him.”  Berin didn’t reply, simply sagged his head.  His eyes shifted to his desk drawer.  He recalled Wagner, the package, everything he had said.  Did the Terrans have something more on Tamaki, perhaps?  Doubtful.  But what else could help them?


         ‘It is a trick.  Nothing but a damn trick by Wagner and his CIA.’  Still, he found himself leaning forward, opening the drawer, taking out the package and ripping it open while Faye looked curiously on.


         Berin breathed deeply then emptied it’s contents onto his desk - a thin manilla folder marked in a corner with foreign lettering forming two words.  Opening it he could already see the CIA was holding back, black lines covering entire paragraphs.  Still, though, it was easy to make out the semi familiar face of Tamaki, his daughter’s “bodyguard”.


         He scanned through it quickly, stopping, however, when his eyes caught a single word which sent a shiver through him.  He read the sentence again.  No mistaking it.


         Kerosia.


         The emperor started over from the beginning, reading slowly this time.


-------------------------


         When Terrace made it back to the Bema all he wanted to do was sleep.  You didn’t have to be a commander, however, to know such a privilege was not to be his for hours still.


         Giznek was quick to contact him, having heard the news from the emperor.  The man was far from pleased, but was still a soldier to the bone and as such followed orders, allowing the commander a rather large, if thinned out, force of ships scattered throughout the galaxy.


         That done, he’d quickly relayed the plan he’d given to Emperor Midolloni to a subordinate and ordered a number of specific strike teams to every habitable location in the galaxy, crime-filled rocks like Haqnen II included.  It’d take at least a week for them to properly organize and set themselves and longer to have the proper equipment sent to them, but it was necessity.


         Next up had been pinpointing all his scattered ships and deciding how best to organize them.  Cecile was still transmitting, luckily, but was heading  far from anything which could intercept them with any success.  Probably Ruki’s blind flight from the MMC.  Not like Terrace would send anything after them at the moment.  In the end he decided to centralize them in a rather large circle his fleet would form.  Wouldn’t give them the quickest response time, but it’d be a better bet than chasing a lone craft all over the galaxy as well as easier to trap his prey.


         ‘Just wish the emperor would finally ok hyperspace checkpoints...among other things.  Too easy to get by unnoticed as things are.’


         Terrace himself in Bema, along with a pair of battleships and destroyers, not to mention complimentary gunships, would loosely follow Cecile’s Hindsight at all times near the center of the circle of forces.


         Orders mapped out and given, Terrace figured he’d finally be able to relax.  A short, bald Grekan - rare humans engineered for intelligence and gifted with centuries long life, though with such strange mannerisms and tendencies it was difficult for them to find a place in civilization - dashed those hopes, unfortunately.  He knew this one.  Odyssinus, the man he’d sent Ruki’s blood to.  The Grekan was an interesting sight.  Near completely bald with thick glasses, though modern technology could’ve easily gotten rid of both.  His eyes shifted quickly back and forth, his head quirking from side to side every few seconds.


         “Interesting specimen.  Yes, very interesting.  Where did you find such a thing, I wonder?” the man said in a soft, breathy tone without so much as a greeting.


         “It was taken from a person.  You need know no more than that,” the commander said.


         “Person?  No.  No word for this.  Robot, perhaps, or cyborg.  Was it a freewalker?”  Terrace frowned.


         “Tell me your findings.”


         “Iron, nitrogen, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon...” Odyssinus started, to Terrace’s annoyance.


         “I have no use for elemental details.  What else.”


         “Nanobots!” the scientist said, unfazed.  “This...thing...is made nearly entirely of nanobots, from what I can tell.  Oh, I wish you had given me the entire specimen.  What are it’s organs, if there are any?  What does it use as a skeleton?  What does it have as a brain?”


         “What are you talking about?”  Terrace interrupted again.  “This came from a person, as I said.”


         “WRONG!!!” the Grekan screeched.  “Machine, I think.  True enough the nanobots are wholly organic, but they are machines nonetheless.  Simply made of different material.”


         ‘That makes so little sense.  How could Ruki be a freewalker?  She has proven an incredible show of emotions.  Unless...there have been none like her.  Perhaps she was a prototype design that lost control.  Interesting.’


         “Tested many times.  It has a tremendous will to heal itself to nearly any damage it receives.  Interesting, I found it perhaps has the ability to entirely recreate whatever it came from.  It has the oddest ability to suck energy and materials from it’s environment and use it for whatever it needs, multiplying destroyed nanobots within milliseconds, if necessary.  More, I found some has scrambled bits of data other than programming burned into the bots themselves.  Very unusual.  And to think, the sample tried to destroy itself.”


         “Destroy itself?  What do you mean?”


         “Why, it tried to dissipate when not encased.  Almost succeeded as well.  I theorize that when disconnected from a certain point in the main body the rest of the body will dissipate as best it can to keep from creating a second body.”


         ‘Explains why a blood sample was never taken before,’ Terrace thought, scratching his chin.


         “This burned data, that’s an interest in and of itself.  It seems to be similar to signatures found in an organic brain.  If my theory is true the mind of the creature could be obliterated then completely reconstructed with memories and personality in tact.  It would be an incredibly long and complex process, but it might be possible.”


         ‘Explains why she hasn’t died yet.  Very interesting.’  The commander thought for a moment, a bad idea coming to mind.  “Can it be killed?” he asked.  Odyssinus looked to the ceiling in thought.


         “Of course.  All things can be destroyed.  I believe this would merely be incredibly difficult.  If the mind was destroyed and the rest of the body scrambled somehow it is possible it may be unable to rebuild itself enough to survive.  Or if my theory is true, it is possible disconnect whatever holds the body together and destroy it, therefore destroying the rest of the body.  I believe there would be extreme counters to this, however, making the idea rather untrustworthy.  Similarly, I could devise a virus which would make the body believe it is disconnected and destroy itself.  However, the aggressiveness of these nanobots to such things is incredible.  The virus might slow the body down for a time, might even destroy part of the body.  But I am nearly positive it would be overcome in a matter of minutes.”


         Terrace tapped his chin, asked, “How long would it take you to create and mass produce this...virus?”


         “Oh not long at all.  I fell upon it’s basic creation while testing.  You see when I first found a way to stabilize the nanobots...”


         “How long?”  The Grenkan paused, pushed his glasses up, staring at the commander.


         “Mass produced as in...?”


         “Weaponized, with a few dozen rounds sent to each planet and space station in the galaxy.”  Odyssinus widened his eyes.


         “Weaponized?!  This creature must be studied!  The advancements it could create, the things it could teach us...”


         “Enough,” Terrace barked, stress from the day weighing heavily on him.  “This is non negotiable.  How long?”


         The scientist paused long in answering, staring creepily at his superior in contemplation.  Moments later he finally said, “One to two weeks with, I would believe, another three days for delivery.”


         “Good.  Get to it,” Terrace said, turning away.  The Grenkan walked out without another word.  A small mercy, that.


         As the commander sat down in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the weight of an empire on his shoulders, he at least had one comforting thought: ‘At least Rae’gis Lager’s idea seems to be coming together.’


-------------------------


         Only 13 hours had passed since his arrest yet already the authority that be had pushed for the first hearing of Aiston Malcom.  The idea was to catch him with his pants down, keep him trapped while a better case could be made by having him stand for the hearing before he’d come up with anything to slip away.


         It was a desperate attempt and everyone knew it.


         In the day and age they were in to be a high level judge you had to be almost completely beyond corruption.  This was a pendulum which swung both ways, fortunately.  Judge Vinius Mia was beyond Aiston’s reach, but just as well could not be influenced by MMC with much ease.


         ‘The Emperor could do as much,’ Aiston thought.  ‘He could say a word and have Mia do whatever he pleased.  Berin Midolloni is much far too above that, however.  That is why I will go free.  That is why he is a failure of a leader.’


         Aiston did not enter the courtroom, as he had never done in the past.  Instead he was escorted and secured into a plain white room with a holoprojector showing the judge and stand.  Mia was a short, ugly man with shorter bright white hair and an almost sickly white complexion.  His race was human of some sort, but he was too old and ugly to make a guess as to which kind.  The prosecutor walked onto the projector from the left, some veteran lawyer they’d probably pulled off another case just to try locking this away early.  He was skinny, tall, grey and old and the 11th prince was faintly surprised the man could still hold up his robes, his frame was so slight.


         As for Aiston’s lawyer, the prince had declined.  He found himself much more...eloquent.  As well, he simply did not trust them.


         The proceedings were slow for a first hearing, the prosecutor treating it almost like a regular trial and the judge allowing it.  Aiston didn’t argue.  He merely listened intently while the lawyer spat on his name.  The video was shown again, Ruki talking to the drunken prince as he all but said, “I’m guilty!”  A half hour the man talked, pointing out past connections Aiston might’ve had to various organizations and crimes as well as arguing the safety of keeping him imprisoned until a proper trial could be made.  He pointed out the infamous Ruki, repeated data on the Titan - which told him none of this was public still - and generally showed every reason why Aiston Malcom should be put away for the rest of his life before a trial could even be organized.


         Then it was Aiston’s turn.


         “Do you have anything to add, Prince Malcom?” Mia asked as the lawyer disappeared from the projector, his voice soft, practically defining his age.  Aiston slowly stood up, adjusting his robes.


         “My honorable Judge Mia,” he started, looking the ugly man in the eye, “I commend the video and the difficulty there must have been in creating it.  However...”  He smiled lightly and began pacing, his hands moving almost as if to direct his words.  “We live in a grand age of technology and the MMC, as my past has shown, has a distinct vendetta against me.  It is impressive such a video could be made, but it is very much a fake.  In fact, you will find no proof can be laid which can submit that this video, and therefore all evidence against me, is real.”  He stopped pacing, looked Mia in the eye again.  “Without such proof the MMC has no right to hold me and I demand to be set free immediately.”  Aiston sat back down, nothing more to be said.


         “Prosecutor Ivand, do you hold such proof?”  The lawyer appeared back on screen, standing in his black robes.


         “I do not,” was all he said.  The judge nodded, letting out a deep breath.


         “Then Prince Aiston Malcom is free to go until such time as proper evidence can be submitted.  These proceedings are closed.”


         The projector shut down and for a moment it was just Aiston in the room, a satisfied smirk adorning his lips.  Then the door opened and the uniformed MMC said, “You’re free to go.”


         Like before, the 11th prince stood slowly, adjusting his robes.  He took the smile from his face before turning around and walking to freedom, not sparing a glance for the sod from the police division holding the door open.  Outside Yenshin was waiting, packaged robes in his arms just as the prince would have demanded.  Aiston didn’t even nod in approval, only exited the damnable prison and stepped into his waiting limousine.


         “Venoudious,” he said to the driver before closing the window between himself and the front.  He began undressing and Yenshin set the packaged robes neatly beside him.  “Open a direct vocal line with Rykov,” he told the bodyguard.  The last of his dirty robes dropped and he opened the package.  A fine robe, but nothing which would be sullied too badly by his state of unwash.  Yenshin knew him too well.


         Yenshin dialed fast then sat back as the phone began ringing.  The noble had just secured his under robes when the line picked up with a, “Lt. Rykov speaking.”


         “Cedric, my dear boy, how have you been?”


         “Malcom?!”


         “I am glad to hear you have not forgotten me,” Aiston said with a warming smile despite there being no visual connection.  He adjusted the outer robes over his shoulders.


         “You were arrested!  God, why the hell are you calling me?  If I’d have know you...”


         “I am disappointed, Cedric.  I would have thought you were smart enough to detect such an obvious lie.”


         “The hells are you talking...” Rykov started, but Aiston distracted him easily enough.


         “Many criminals know me as their enemy and they thought to dispose of me.  I think that Tamaki man was responsible for this unfortunate mess.  Fortunately the court has seen the ruse for what it is.”


         “You’re free?” the upstart Lieutenant shot out.


         “Yes and I want to calm you of any fears you may have developed in the meantime.  We would not want our plan to dissolve now would we?”


         “Malcom...God...I don’t know.”


         “My boy, I assure you I am completely legitimate.  Why, with such a professionally done framing job I would have to provide proof to the contrary, would I not?”


         “I...suppose.”


         “Good.  I am glad to hear or plan is still in function then.”  Aiston didn’t need visuals to know the young officer wore a  pained expression.  “I will contact you soon when I have developed information for you.  It was a pleasure talking to you, Cedric.”


         “Thank you...” the man squeezed out before the noble motioned Yenshin to hang up on him.


         Aiston finished putting together his robes - a comfortable red and white set - as the limo made it’s way silently toward Venoudious.  He was quick to find the bodyguard avoiding looking at him more than usual.


         “Better a man with too much ambition than a man whose very honor could tear the galaxy apart,” Aiston found himself saying, a little to his own surprise.  Yenshin glanced at him, but said nothing.


-------------------------


         Violet Red was a tavern the like of which you didn’t see often across the galaxy.  Sure there were plenty of seedy places around, but it was difficult to find one where so much information passed.


         ‘Would’ve preferred Haqnen II,’ Preesly thought, looking around the smokey, dim and worn down bar.  ‘Fucking anarchistic wars.’  The recently retired SEALS had stumbled upon the place years ago then stumbled out again never looking back.  The bar was a wealth of gossip, much of it too true for his liking.


         The smokey room was full of seedy patrons and the barely retired soldier wondered how many were bounty hunters and how many were criminals.  Not like it mattered much.  Violet Red was positioned on Geoffman Center, a space station which had pretty much outlawed active bounty hunting after a few cases of severe property damage.  MMC had learned to stay away soon after when the police division boys decided their paycheck wasn’t large enough.


         Today it was rather peaceful, fortunately.  Some gave him a wary look as he entered - unknown faces meant danger, after all - but mostly it was a quiet place full of whispers and the dozen hvs positioned around the room.  He was somewhat glad to see he’d dressed the part well; leather coat, jeans and a grey shirt.  Practically a fifth of the humans were wearing the same, as were a couple of the Saugin’s who called this station a home away from home.  There were a couple gordos around as well and what he could swear was a Zedric - an engineered human/gordos mix Midollonians tried to weaponize before splicing became illegal.  There was even a sessnias sitting at the bar, huge even for his kind and rare enough that Preesly had only ever stumbled upon one of their kind two or three times.


         Preesly went straight for the bar, sitting alone at least a seat away from anyone else.  He looked up at the nearest hv as he waved the bartender for a lager and discreetly patted his thigh and the switch therein, turning on the powerful yet tiny microphones he’d planted in his ears.


         Instantly the room of whispers turned into a room of screaming and the Terran cringed a bit before he could get used to it.  The beer arrived and right away he hid his discomfort into the glass, downing half the amber in a large gulp.  He settled, relaxed himself and made to watch the hv as he sorted through the different conversations taking place throughout the room.


         “Rannelman will be here any minute, keep cool until we’re outta here.”


         “MMC are on high alert everywhere.  Dammit, don’t you get it, they’re tracking me...”


         “27 kilos went missing.  I’m still trying to pinpoint who...”


         “I killed him.  Willy, I killed him.  You have to get me out of here, please!”


         “As I have explained before, our contract with you is null due to our earlier contract with Mr. Ployer coming into effect...”


         ‘Nothing,’ Preesly thought.  ‘Just a whole lot of nothing.  Aside from petty criminals, bounty hunters and mercs.’


         For two hours he stayed by the bar listening, drinking and ignoring any who approached him.  Two hours of the same.  Murderers, dealers of anything and everything, mercs of the highest bidder and the occasional bounty hunter trying for a lead, but unable to do anything in the face of a self-serving law.  By the end of those two hours he was ready to blow a leak into the station’s coolant and melt the place to hell, Violet Red included, for all the criminal waste it seemed to harbor.


         He kept an eye on the hv the entire time, partially as a sort of cover, partially for something to look at besides the smokey old tavern.  Two hours after he arrived it took Preesly a moment to realize he was staring at two pictures of Kenshi Tamaki, one a copy of the picture he and his former team had received over a week ago, the other a similar photo only with a bald and bearded Tamaki in different eye and hair colors.  Preesly shut off his microphones.


         “How long has it been since an event like this has occurred?” some spicy female number asked a middle-aged man with a somewhat receding hairline.


         “132 years when the pirate Ruki was responsible for the deaths of all aboard an MMC carrier which was escorting a number of her then partners as well as a large storage of her personal loot,” the man replied in a bit less saucy voice.


         “Incredible.  Do you have any idea what, exactly sparked this change?”


         “Well, Ioan, I honestly couldn’t tell you exactly.  Kenshi Tamaki was, of course, the focal turning point of a major MMC ambush three years ago, but before then he had no criminal background, in fact having a history of exceptional heroism.  It is a popular opinion that Tamaki shouldn’t have been on the top ten list, much less number two, and this idea is presented more strongly when you see he has done little but run away since the Orlius battle.  Officially, of course.  The MMC must know more than they are letting on.”


         “I have to disagree with that, Mr. Borson,” a chubby old man cut in.  “We have known for years Kenshi Tamaki was a danger when he both teamed up with somebody as ruthless as Ruki and survived the fallout of such an event.  With this new information I believe he not only should be on the list, but should be at the top if for no other reason than to highlight the danger he presents.”


         “What danger might that be?” the female reporter asked.


         “I think the facts speak for themselves.  A high level criminal who has taken the second princess from under the very noses of the MMC, the MPG and the combined nobility of the entire galaxy.  The demands he could make for such a prize are incredible and we should feel lucky he couldn’t manage to kidnap one of the direct heirs, the empress or, God forbid, Berin Midolloni himself.  But then add to this an even more startling piece of the puzzle - that he’s directly connected to Kerosians - and you have a situation to have nightmares about and one which needs to be dealt with fast.”


         “But at the lessened priority of a proven criminal mastermind such as Ruki?” Mr. Borson said.


         “Everybody knows the danger of Ruki.  School children have heard of her.  She is a living legend.  I believe we all forget the danger of Kenshi Tamaki, however, and that’s why he is suddenly being regarded so highly.  Not to say kidnaping the emperor’s daughter is any small thing, of course.”


         “But is it truly enough to warrant his placement as the single most wanted person on the MMC’s most wanted list?” the reporter asked.  Preesly felt his eyes grow wider and wider.  Tamaki’s infamy was growing fast.


         “That is arguable,” Mr. Borson said.  “It all depends on what, exactly, Tamaki has done and why the MMC feels this way all of the sudden.  I am curious, however, if they are not holding any information back then why was the fact that Tamaki worked for Kerosia not disclosed until today?  Where did this information come from and why give it up now?”


         The news argument raged on, but the points were the same.  Kenshi Tamaki, disguised, took the second princess, apparently under orders from Kerosia, the old and expanding power pushing territories only a system away.


         “God...” he whispered, finally turning away from the screen.  Every bounty hunter and green neck in the MMC would be after the sonofa bitch now, complete with itchy trigger fingers.  His bounty would be raised by default then soar when distributors put their own cash in once the media looked back on every little bad record the man had ever held.


         ‘Burlai was after him too...’ Preesly thought.  ‘He’ll have every incident involving a supposed sighting reported right to him and I’ve still got my radio.’  He let out a tiny smile.  ‘Follow Burlai around and check footprints myself.  I’ll run into the asshole again eventually.  And this time there will be no distractions.


         Standing up, the former SEALS paid his tab and headed for the hangar and his recently acquired and renovated ship.  Wasn’t much for a dogfight, but it’d get him around fast and easy.


         He turned into an alley and hadn’t made it 10 steps when a low, deep voice said, “You are a soldier.”  Preesly turned, saw the sessnias from the tavern.  In the better light he saw green scales where armor and cloth didn’t cover making the lizard a Sventh, but other markings showed he either had a bad skin disease or was of mixed blood.


         “I am,” Preesly replied, resting his hand beside the pistol holstered at his side.  The Sventh towered over him.  With that much armor and muscle it’d take a lot to bring him down.  The creature hissed.


         “A soldier searching for this Kenshi Tamaki,” he stated.  Preesly narrowed his eyes, considered drawing his weapon.  “Do not.  I mean no harm,” the lizard rumbled then hissed, bowing, and Preesly realized he was trying to be respectful.  “I am Sesseth Nell, Major of the 144th army, section 17.”  The Terran did not take his hand from his gun.


         “Slin Preesly.  Former soldier.”


         “Bounty hunter,” Nell hissed, narrowing his eyes.


         “Of a sort, I guess.  What do you want?”


         “A proposition, Slin Preesly.”


         “Of?”  Still his hand did not relax.


         “Shared intelligence regarding Kenshi Tamaki, Ruki and their latest actions.”


         Preesly raised an eyebrow and said, “What could you offer me and why do you believe I could help you?”


         “I would doubt you know why it is Kenshi Tamaki is hunted as he is.  Yet you are a soldier.  You know other soldiers.  You would know much.”


         “So what?  I tell you the tiny bit I know, you tell me the tiny bit you know and we both go separate ways trying to find them first?”  Nell said nothing in return, only staring thoughtfully at Preesly.  The soldier considered him for a moment, saw his bulk, his size.  All that armor and probably a dozen weapons and booby traps hidden all over the damn beast.  And Sventh had very well trained militaries which every one of their race was required to join at some point.  Very well trained.  Preesly didn’t have much of a shot taking on Tamaki alone, much less Ruki as well, but maybe this Sventh...


         “A partnership,” Preesly said at last.  “Shared info and when it comes to capturing them we have each other’s backs.”


         “Capturing is only the beginning, Slin Preesly.  Upon where would we deliver such prizes?”


         “The top of the MMC food chain.”


         Nell looked him in the eye, staying statue still.  Then he hissed, raised an arm awkwardly as if for a handshake - like he’d never done it before.  Preesly looked at the hand, then at Nell.  He took his own hand from his gun, reached and grasped the larger scaled one.


-------------------------


         Ruki waited patiently for the hatch to unlock and open, for once calm and collected.  Time can pass slowly while you’re waiting and it gives you more to think about.  Like so what if Kenshi was a traitor who’d been working for Kerosia all along?  Did that really change things between them?  So what if Ally helped him?  Was it really such a betrayal?  Who cares if Dav was working against her from the start?  Was it really that unexpected?  No, it was all good.  Just some turbulence, that was all.


         Then the hatch finished opening.


         “ALLY, YOU FUCKING MIDGET, TAKE YOUR HEAD FROM THAT PINCHED ASS YOU HAVE AND GET THE HELL OVER HERE!!!” the pirate yelled, grabbing Dav by the collar and tossing him out of the ship to land sprawled and half conscious a few feet away.


         The scientist was unexpectedly obedient, stepping out of the shadows of an even gloomier than usual hangar.  Ruki was quick to narrow her eyes on the genius and had to force herself to keep in check for the time being, her tail wrapped almost painfully around her waist.


         “You have 20 seconds to explain what you know and what you knew before I blow up this piece of scrap and drag your rotting corpse around the galaxy as a God damn trophy.”


         “Should I count down for you?” the redhead said with a wide smile.  That did it.  Ruki charged right for the smartassed twit at full speed.  Unfortunately, so surprised was she that she didn’t run face-first into a force field that she flew right over her head and into the strange cargo ship behind her, imprinting her face nicely into the ship’s hull.


         “Really did a number on him,” Ally said somewhere or another to the now half conscious Ruki.  “Tell me, did you decide to break his jaw, nose and all his limbs at the joints before or after you heard of Kenshi?  Nevermind, I think I can guess.  After or else he’d be dead.”  The pirate sat herself up in time to see Ally throw the merc who’d picked the wrong side into a healing tank which had somehow appeared in the few seconds she’d looked away.


         “Did you know about him too?”


         “HA!  Are you joking?!  I thought you were just toying with him, but you disappoint me,” Ally said, clicking the machine on.  Ruki scowled.


         “What the hell are you babbling about?”


         “Davnick.  He’s an accomplished mercenary, you know.  Started out as a minor bank robber before some partner introduced him to a mercenary group.  You look far enough you can see he took a job recently.  Been distracted lately, dear?”  The pirate looked away.


         “Hn,” was all she said.  ‘Fucking Kenshi in my head too much.  Twit’s right, I shoulda known better.’


         “He’ll be healed up and ready to torture in a half hour.  Follow me.”  Ally walked away and Ruki reluctantly followed, rubbing her still-healing face.  “As for Kenshi, very interesting.  I’d have thought it was all hot air if the emperor himself hadn’t released it.  That man’s honor makes him very predictable, I’m sure you noticed.  Smart man...but too black and white for a leader.  Besides, the new info’s very incomplete.  A fabrication would be made complete, this Kerosia thing’s missing tons.”


         “Like?”  Ally stopped, turned to look at her.


         “My, you have been distracted, haven’t you.  Only looking at the latest news channels, hmm.  Kenshi made a mistake similar to that, I’m surprised you’d repeat it.”  She continued on, passing from the hangar into the main lab where the machines ranging from wacky to creepy began crowding around them.


         “You make it sound like you didn’t know any of this beforehand,” Ruki said.  Ally stopped again, but didn’t turn around this time.


         “I didn’t,” she said in a low whisper the pirate had to strain to hear.  She started walking once more.  “It must’ve been isolated from any sort of broadcasting.  Most of it still is, probably.”


         “Which means...”


         “That it might as well be written down on paper and kept in a safe because there’s no way of finding it without physically being wherever it’s kept.”


         “Sounds like a pain,” Ruki said, scratching her head.


         “It is, for everyone.  But that’s the best way to keep something secret a secret.  Whatever Kenshi’s history was, it was ugly enough that someone thought it better kept locked deep in some room where only things noone’s supposed to touch again are stored.  Quite the honor, eh?”


         “Whatever you say, but it’s true?  Kenshi works for Kerosians?”  Ally shrugged.


         “If the emperor approved it, I have little doubt.  He’s not the type to spread slander.”


         ‘Fucking Kenshi,’ Ruki thought as the darkness of the lab seemed to close around the pair.  ‘Pulling all our strings from the start.’  She frowned at Ally’s back.  “And you helped him out.”


         “Ruki, sweety, do you honestly think I gave him enough equipment to wage war against the MMC and didn’t think up a failsafe or two?”  The scientist stopped walking beside a wooden table so simple it didn’t look like it belonged aboard the ship of overly complicated gizmos and turned around with a wide smile.  On top of it a piece of black clothing was folded neatly.


         “What sort of failsafes?”


         “Glad you asked,” Ally said, her smile practically splitting her face.  A board with ship schematics vaguely resembling Kenshi’s popped audibly into existence.  “I had transmitters placed here, here and here,” she said, pointing to each in turn and the board.  “Even if Kenshi found them he doesn’t have anywhere near the technical skill to remove them without setting off a trap and killing himself.  Aside from that the self repair mechanism for his ship can be reversed.  The bots would then proceed to tear the ship to shreds, keying in on it’s stealth system first, then it’s engine then weapons systems then finally it’s hull.  By the time they’re through all the equipment I gave him would be destroyed.  If he’s in space he’d be more than likely destroyed.”


         “And his body?”  Ally look away.


         “I didn’t have time to reprogram his nanobots.  The minute they entered his body they destroyed the failsafes I placed.  I can make counters, but most wouldn’t last long.  The rest would either kill him instantly or make the nanos even stronger.”  Ruki couldn’t help but laugh.  “What is it?  What’s so funny?”


         “You outsmarted yourself,” she cackled.  Ally folded her arms and turned away.  “Aww, what’s the matter?  Did I finally hurt your feelings?”


         “You know, I was gonna give you this, but now I’m not sure I’m going to,” the scientist said, fingering the black material.  Ruki instantly stopped laughing.


         “What is it?”  Ally turned back, that face-splitting smile returning and Ruki was almost afraid of what might come next.  She checked to make sure her tail was still securely wrapped around her.


         “Only the most advanced exosuit ever created.”  At the pirate’s questioning look she held it up, displaying a thin body suit covering foot to neck.  “Advanced armor, strength augmentations, visual modes and augmentation, audio augmentation, concealed heavy weapons, a cloaking system, it’s own power supply, hell I even threw in those two new technologies you’ve been having so much fun with.”  Ruki looked the suit up and down greedily.


         “Kenshi doesn’t have one?”


         “Kenshi has two exosuits, neither as good as this.  Sure, one has better armor and the other has heavier weapons, but neither would give such a keen advantage in a fight.  Too bad you’re not getting it.”  The veteran pirate barked a laugh.


         “If I’m not getting it then too bad you’re not gonna be able to see if you can outsmart your own ideas.”  Ally scowled, though only for a moment.  Then she laughed.


         “I knew I liked you for a reason.  Fine, take it.  Show Kenshi he shouldn’t have made alliances.”  Grinning, Ruki snatched it away and threw the material over her shoulder, her bad mood suddenly gone.  “Only one other thing,” Ally said.


         “What’s that?”  The pirate was surprised to see the childlike red-head biting her lip.


         “Be careful.”  At her raised eyebrow the genius continued.  “If you fight Kenshi now neither of you will hold back, something the two of you have done only twice before.  The first time both of you were severely injured, the second ended before it was finished.  This exosuit is good, but so is he.  You’ve got more combat experience than any soldier, mercenary or anything else living, but he’s got fighting ingrained so deep into him it’s probably more instinctual than a thought process.”


         A few sarcastic remarks bit at Ruki’s tongue, but she held them.  Instead she simply nodded then looked over her shoulder toward the way they’d come.


         “Got anything to keep Dav in check for me?”  Ally’s grin came back.


         “You really wanna give that boy hell, eh?”


         Ruki nodded, said, “You bet your ass.”


         “I’m surprised you didn’t just kill him.  Ah well.  I’ve got just what you’re looking for.”


-------------------------


         The first hour aboard the strange ship was stressful, to say the least.  Looking back and forth, wondering what could be so much as touched without gathering the wrath of this Kenshi Tamaki.  Eventually, and fortunately, Alanya fell into a deep, if fitful, sleep, nestled in tight to the corner of the L-shaped couch.


         She didn’t know how long it’d been after she awoke, but the room was dim and the sleepiness of the night had worn away into a mild grogginess.  It took her a moment to realize where she was as the lights brightened a bit and when she did she was happy to find no sign that Kenshi had come out of his room.


         Nature was soon to call and, frightened though the princess was of wandering where she was not welcome, she needed to find a bathroom fast.  There was only one other door aside from Kenshi’s and the one to the corridor and, luckily, it lead to a toilet.


         Somewhat emboldened by her grand search she began curiously wandering around the two rooms, happy for every moment Kenshi did not join her.  Careful not to touch at first, Alanya soon grew bored of simply looking.


         ‘Drink,’ she thought, stopping by what she guessed was a materializer and ordering herself a simple cup of water.  Downing the beverage in a long gulp, she replaced the cup and ordered another, moving onto the fairly large hv.


         ‘I wonder if I made the news.’  She sat back onto the couch, sipping her drink and fingering the hv remote, wondering if she should really chance waking up her jailer, of a sort.  Curiosity killed reason and she turned the power on, albeit at a very low volume.  The signal was a bit shaky, probably because they were still in hyperspace, but it was workable.  Alanya flipped through the channels until she found a familiar news one.


         “...though police will not say what caused the crash or give information as to possible survivors,” some pretty blonde newscaster said with a hint of a smile.  The screen switched over to a handsome dark-skinned man with the same expression.


         “Our top story today, authorities have, after 132 years, replaced the almost mythical criminal Ruki with Kenshi Tamaki as the head of the MMC’s most wanted list.  The change happened after Tamaki kidnaped Second Princess Alanya Midolloni in the aftermath of a crashed Cindelliac Ball last night as well as it being revealed Tamaki has been working for Kerosia for over 15 years.  Commentators were unable to say much about either events, but we can say the Cindelliac event ended in the arrest of 11th Prince Aiston Malcom with the charges of High Theft and Conspiracy Against the Empire, though he was released this morning due to lack of evidence and Tamaki’s alliance with Kerosia stems from the young age of 13.


         “Authorities have said more information will be released at a later time.”


         Alanya blinked, stared at the pictures on the screen of Desmond and a similar photo of him as a redhead without a beard.  ‘He was really telling the truth,’ she thought.


         Something shifted in Kenshi’s room and Alanya quickly turned the hv off.  A moment later the tall Terran stepped out in a plain white t-shirt and his dress pants from the night before.  Light-colored stubble covered the top of his head.


         He looked at her groggily and, she thought, angrily and stumbled over to her, taking the remote and clicking the hv back on.  Scowling at what he saw, Kenshi clicked the screen back off and dropped the remote back onto the coffee table.


         “You were telling the truth,” she whispered, half afraid of what he’d do if he so much as heard her.


         “Yeah,” he rasped, turning away and taking a few steps.  Then he looked back at her.  “Though I think you just saw how a misunderstanding goes a long way to ruin a man’s reputation.”  Turning back, he walked into the bathroom and didn’t step out again until a half hour later, his beard gone and his body washed, though his clothes were still from the previous night.  Alanya remained where he left her, still thinking on what misunderstandings he spoke of, though this time she didn’t turn the hv off before looking at him.


         “We’re gonna head for an abandoned space station I know of.  With Malcom out I want the disk he wanted outta his reach.  Gonna stash it there while I figure out what to do.”


         “I’m sorry,” she said softly and Kenshi frowned a bit, showing off a scar on his lower lip she hadn’t noticed before.


         “Forget it.  Might as well enjoy your time away from home while you can, ‘cause I’m not sure when or where I’ll be able to let you out safely.”  Alanya bit her lip and he sighed.  “Come on, I’ll show you around in the meantime.  This place is gonna be your home for awhile.”


-------------------------


         It was more than a little upsetting to Terrace he was so late in hearing the news on Tamaki, though thinking on it he honestly wasn’t surprised.  Berin Midolloni was a peace negotiator, not a military strategist.  When it came to that he buckled, got priorities wrong.  But then it didn’t matter all that much.


         At age 13 Kenshi Tamaki was recruited by -----, a known scientist from Kerosia who since trained and, it is suspected if not completely evidenced, brainwashed him to his cause.


         That was the big sentence in the document the emperor had released.  In a letter it was said it came from a reliable source.  Terrace had his doubts on that, but for the time being he might as well trust the info.


         ‘Like it actually matters,’ he thought.  Tamaki having the Titan data was a big enough thing, one which the commander had a whole other set of doubts on, and no matter who he was working for the data had to be recovered before it fell into the wrong hands, those hands obviously not being Tamaki’s alone.  It was just lucky that whoever designed the damn Titan’s blackbox had the forethought to not allow it to be broadcast without purging itself, forcing anyone who took it being required to physically hand it over.  Even so, the Kerosia thing opened up a dangerous possibility, but an unlikely one.  More likely it was a scrap from the far past, a footnote made to make the man look bad and give the MMC, and everyone else for that matter, reason to go after him.  ‘Propaganda.  It’s pure propaganda.’


         More, Terrace was interested in Cecile’s signal.  The merc had changed directions.  It looked like he, or Ruki more likely, had gotten an idea on what everyone was looking for.  And the commander could take an easy guess that something was Tamaki.


         Even better, if Cecile kept up his course the Bema would be able to intercept and follow close behind, hopefully reaching Tamaki at the same time and capturing him first.  Ruki was a big problem, one Terrace knew he’d have to throw casualties at in the meantime, but Tamaki was the objective.


         ‘Let’s just hope he proves easier to pin down than the damn pirate.’  Thinking on it didn’t give much reassurance.