AUGUST 13TH, 220, AFTER 9 PM VELKSLAND TIME

SOMETIME BEFORE LI CHOU DEPARTS FOR VALSPON

THE DON'S Montepuez

Impossible. Jung still cannot comprehend the situation they’re in now. As Jung stares at the command center’s dark purplish carpet, Jung can only ponder if this is all merely a horrible, horrible fever dream. He has only been up here in orbit for only a couple of weeks at best, and his body still has a difficult time adjusting to the difference in gravity on Lübeck.

Perhaps any minute now, Jung will abruptly find himself back home awoke with sweat in bed. Frau at his side, and staring at the pale blue ceiling that he has familiarized himself with for the past two years. But the more he blinks, the lesser that fantasy comes to fruition, and the more the purplish carpeting is burned into his retinas. Dong Zhui has terrible taste in furnishing.

But Jung cannot remain fazed forever. Sooner or later, he will need to get his act together for the upcoming battle at Valspon. Li’s plan is an incredible gamble—if the Federation monitors their fleet as it leaves, it will be all over. But they have no other reliable options to adapt to the situation with; all he and the other lieutenants can do is put their faith in Li.

As Jung gets up from his chair and heads out of the room he is approached by Li who greets him with a warm smile. Jung straightens himself from his slump, “ah! Li, perfect timing. I wanted to speak to you about our plans for Valspon…” But Li gestures to say not another word and shakes her head. Baffled, Jung crosses his arms.

“I have other plans for you, Jung,” Li states “you will not be joining me at Valspon,” despite the increased puzzlement written on Jung’s face Li continues “you will stay behind and see to it that my decoy plan here succeeds.”

And like a cold spell, Jung finds himself at a loss of words. The surface of his skin gets chills when the words sink in. Today has just been one revelation after another. If he cannot go with Li to Valspon then keeping his promise to Simon will be practically impossible. Even that aside, how could he keep his promise with Frau? “Now, hold on a minute, Li… I know we’re in a grave predicament, but now is not the time for rash decisions…”

Li takes a particularly deep breath, “it was a difficult decision for me to make, Jung, because I feel that you would be essential in the upcoming battle…” Jung’s face goes pale, and his sudden dry throat makes it hard to register what she’s saying. “But Valspon will hardly be the battle itself… the real importance will be here, and I have a scarce amount of talented lieutenants to utilize the decoys to their full potential—this might sound a bit flattering,” Li forces a smile “but I feel that kind of dirty trick is… as Olga or Sergi would say— right up your ally.”

The compliment aside, Jung remains undeterred, “surely, you can leave behind either—Sergi or Olga—to command the decoy operation here?” Jung protests. Li takes a step toward Jung and plants a hand on his shoulder.

“If I had even several of you, Jung, I would not need the original,” Li answers with another compelled smile “unfortunately… the Mafia has been in a sad shape after your departure—a bunch of goons that don’t know left from right, and as frustrating as that is, I have to merely adapt as I go on,” Li’s grip on his shoulder tightens. The averting Jung makes eye contact with those colorful red eyes of hers, “since I am facing a particularly rough shortage of Lees, I need you in your element—I need you here, to fool the Federation into believing what they want to believe. Please, Jung… I believe there is nobody else capable of it than you are.”

There’s no way Jung will be able to convince her mind. He breaks off eye contact with Li and looks down at the dark carpet. Although he may be the most experienced out of everyone present, he hasn’t held a space-faring position in so long. He’ll be rustic, and being rustic means more mistakes and inconceivable losses of life. Jung’s head tilts forward and he grits his teeth.

If Jung goes with Li he will only get in the way. Times and tactics change, experiences wither, and Jung can only imagine his decision-making abilities will have gotten dull and more conservative—gone are the days where he would make bold and nefarious maneuvers that earned him the moniker ofWulf der Ruthenia. There’s no telling just how the battle at Valspon will unfold. It may not even be his type of battle.

Even if he goes… there’s no telling he can uphold his promise to Simon. Perhaps by staying here, he can keep his promises to Frau and Simon—although Jung can’t help but get a tinge of jealousy that Li will take center stage once again at Valspon—just like she did at Abassi at his expense—but it’s a thought he quickly dismisses. The idea of achieving fame once more is beneath him now. Rather or not he is a stepping stone for Li and as long as she continues to live, nothing else matters: and that’s not just speaking out of obligation for Simon, either—it’s what Jung genuinely believes as well. She alone is the future of the Mafia—the continuations of their hopes and dreams.

Jung looks up to return Li’s gaze and gives his answer in the form of a nod. “This old tethered Wulf will serve you in whatever way I can,” Jung says solemnly “if me being here puts you more at ease, then I will make it my duty to trick the Federation in plain view.” Li’s chest rises and falls with each breath, and she turns to back off from Jung.

“Thank goodness… with the biggest issue out of the way, I can focus on Valspon without anything holding me back,” she turns back to face Jung “as I mentioned earlier… I will be taking the majority of the ships with me… so you will have at least three hundred combat-effective ships at your disposal—you should be able to hold out in the asteroid belt that obstructs our side of the corridor. But I hope it will not come to that before I return.”

Jung nods. In the event fighting does break out, the pivotal fighting will be at first the corridor lane and then the asteroid belt. If he fails there, and if he fails to resist a Federation beachhead, it will be impossible to prevent anything short of a rout—much less annihilation. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that there is a meteor shower occurring, otherwise none of this would be possible,” Li notes “that should not only cover my withdrawal but also hinder Federation movements in the case that they advance. Let’s just hope it persists for at least a few more hours.”

“The asteroids aside… which ship will I be commandeering, Li? If I have to cozy up in the Montepuez…” Li waves one of her hands.

“Nonsense! I can at least give you a better accommodation than this rubbish. No,” Li winces another grin “your old flagship… the Wulfhere.” The name invokes a barrage of nostalgia—a tug at his heartstrings. Did Jung doubt what he heard? With all the insightful news today, Jung ponders in earnest, it must be a clear indication I am going senile.

“My…” Jung stammers, “you kept it around after all this time? Is…” he clears his increasingly dry throat “—is the original crew…?” Li nods, and Jung releases the bated breath he has unknowingly been holding in.

“It hasn’t had a captain chair it since your departure… for some reason or another,” the amount of times Li has to smile for his sake makes Jung a little guilty at best “they’ve been stubborn as mules and I have simply no idea what to do with them…” she places a finger on her lip “I was meaning to surprise them—and you—sooner, but I got caught up in this whole ordeal. My apologies,” Li says as she steps out of the way of the door, “you shouldn’t keep your men waiting—I am set to depart very soon.”

Jung, unable to contain the excitement of seeing his men again overall these years, takes one eager step forward—and then stops.

After this, this may be the last time he will ever see Li again. His gaze turns to her, and she looks back piqued. “Is something the matter, Jung? Do you not like this arrangement I set for you?” Jung’s unrelenting gaze makes Li feel increasingly unsettled, and she strokes a few of her bangs, “i-is there something on my face?” Li asks with uncertainty in her voice.

Jung can only wonder if Simon had a similar sentiment when he saw Li off—the uncertain future that awaits them all—the uneasiness of who may return, and who may perish. A future that looks bleak—but with a strong will they can turn around their fortunes.

In the blink of an eye, Jung surprises Li—and himself—by embracing her in a hug. The only thing that Jung processes afterward is a muffled cry originating from his shoulder—and Li’s warmth radiating with his body. Jung can’t help but crack a smile at seeing a side of Li that perhaps not even Simon had seen before. “What… what brought this about?” The muffled voice of the young Madame objects “you should know better than to suddenly…”

Jung does not answer immediately. He silently endures Li flailing her arms around as she smacks his back with balled fists. But after a few seconds, Li settles down and her breathing returns to normal. “Life is full of regrets, Li…” Jung finally answers as he strokes her raven hair “there are many things I wish I could’ve done better… one day, this will all be a memory… and I do not want you to head down the path of regret and lamentation—as I’m sure Simon does too,” Jung feels additional weight pressed into his back as Li reciprocates his hug. “Do not do anything rash that could put you in immediate danger… Li… do it for this old man’s heart—and more importantly, Simon’s.

“Simon’s sole existence for living is for you, Li. Whatever you may do at Valspon, do it with great caution. I don’t think either of us could withstand outliving yet another loved one,” Jung slightly clasps Li a little tighter “—do it for not only Simon… but for all of us. Never mind Zhui or even Che—you alone are the embodiment of the Mafia. If you die…”

“You’re spouting such nonsense…” Li murmurs still pressed into Jung’s shoulder, her balled hands dig into his shirting. “Such ridiculousness…” The two spend a few more minutes in silence before Jung releases his grip to give Li some personal space. As soon as he moves away, though, Li turns her back to him and heads out into the hallway to which Jung follows suit.

Out in the hallway Li still has his back to him and lets out an exasperated sigh. “You just had to go and make a scene, Jung,” she mumbles as she wipes her eyes with the heel of her hands “I’m glad nobody happened to be around. Then I really would’ve punished you.” Jung scoffs, unable to determine if he should actually take that as a threat or not. Compared to Li, his wife has more weight to her warnings. Jung finds Li’s a bit more cutesy in comparison.

“I believe we should depart here, Jung. I believe there are some shuttle bays on that side of the ship,” Li states, only partially glancing back at Jung.

“You want me out of your sight that badly, huh?” Jung remarks with a snort. Li shoots him a twitching glare, and he sees her cheek blush slightly before quickly obscuring it with a rubbing hand.

“Nonsense, I merely don’t want you doing anything embarrassing like that again,” Li retorts back. Jung can only express a beaming smile at Li’s reactions. Jung snaps his boots together and proudly slams a balled fist to his chest, which finally compels Li to turn around to face him fully.

“So long, Li Chou—The Madame Scarface of the Year 217 Mafia,” Jung loudly states, provoking an embarrassing eye twitch from the Madame amid passing by onlookers “I will now execute my order to oversee the ploy to fool the Federation as you pursue the Federation force at Valspon! The next time we meet, it shall be in celebration!”

It was a bold and ridiculous statement, but just this once Jung wants to express himself in a youthful way.

Li’s annoyance subsides and she gives an affirmative nod. “Take care…Wulf der Ruthenia. Hold the line. For the Mafia,” she finishes with a chest salute.

“For the Mafia!” Jung exclaims in unison with the hallway crowd. And with that the two head in part ways for their ships.

The Wulfhere. Even gazing upon its—albeit rustic—red beauty leaves him speechless. It used to be what he called home—and in that home were hundreds of tough men and women he called family. After Jung made it official he was leaving the Mafia, Simon permitted the crew to leave with Jung and retire the Wulfhere —but manly felt too sentimental with the ship and refused to leave. As such, only about twenty or thirty of his most loyal men joined him in his self-imposed exile back in 217.

“It looks almost the same as it was even back then, huh, captain?” Jean muses in the seat next to him. Jung lifts a finger to object to being called that again—but he relents. Things are different now, and he has nagged her far too much about it over the years. Even in death, Jung wonders to himself, she would still call me captain.

To the crew of the Wulfhere, he is neither Jung Lee nor the Wulf Der Ruthenina; he is merely the captain, and judging from what Li told him no other candidate has been able to live up to be the captain. To be regarded as the captain is to be idolized as the personification of the Wulfhere itself.

“Well…” Jung replies “they did a half-ass job of maintenance,” it looks distressingly neglected and that brings Jung’s spirits down a fair amount. Jung would’ve never let this happen, and he better damn well get a good explanation why. If most of the crew did perhaps move on and pass the torch to a new generation of sailors, then he would perhaps let it slide.

Their shuttle hails the Wulfhere and the pilot positions their vessel next to an open port of the ship. Jung looks out a porthole as a long rod extends to connect to their shuttle and finishes calibrating with a long hiss. Jung cannot see into the bridge connector but can make out many footsteps—or… rather, a parade of stomps.

Before Jung can even make his way to the door to activate the panel, he is abruptly taken back when pounding on the door makes him leap back.“OI!” The muffled voice yells out in between the metallic bangs “I thought we told that hag that we won’t accept any more outsiders!!!” More banging rings in Jung’s ears. Jean tugs at his shoulder.

“Captain…” she whispers, but Jung shushes her.

“Open this door if you know what’s best for you, boy!!!” The muffled voice continues “we’ll send you back black and bruised as a warning to the hag!!!” Behind the agitator, Jung can barely make out a cadre of affirmative grunts and hollers.

Jung only sighs, the Wulfhere must be in bad enough shape that radiation rays are piercing the hull and causing his men to lose their minds if they rough up Li’s men. ‘Stubborn as mules’, that’s what Li called them, it sure sounds like an understatement if anything! The constant banging and demands cause a migraine to develop for Jung, and he slaps his head with another intense sigh. Without another word, Jung punches in the side entrance’s panel, and the door opens responsively. Just outside the open doorway is a fine-muscled man with his back turned to Jung, facing a rowdy gathering of thugs.

“We’ll make sure the hag gets the message this time!!!” The man shouts, pumping a fist into the air, “the Wulfhere takes no orders from greenhorn outsiders!!” Another roar of roaring compliances—one not as loud as more and more slowly comes to their senses when they realize the door is open—and freeze when they notice Jung.

“We’ll never recognize Chou’s authority over the Wulfhere!!” He preaches again, to less fanfare. The spell capitulates more and more of the crowd, some sweat, and others clear their throats.

“We’ll never—!” Jung takes only a step forward, and lightly taps the unsuspecting man on the shoulder. “You’ve finally come out of your hidey-hole, eh?!” The man grunts as he spins around with a devilish grin “we’ll send you…” the plastered smile ever so slowly rescinds “…packing…” those gleaming eyes shrink “tail in between… your…” those confident eyebrows raise in terror “legs…” his mouth hangs open, dry as sand. His eyes—as well as the others—swell up with transparent liquids.

“I think that’s enough, Jargon,” Jung says in a composed manner. To Jung’s astonishment, Jargon throws himself to the floor in prostration. And much like a line of dominoes, the others follow suit.

“PLEASE FORGIVE US, CAPTAIN!!!” Jargon cries out with his face planted on the floor. “WE… I DIDN’T WANT TO… WE COULDN’T SIMPLY REPLACE YOU…!” Jargon’s cries are drowned out by the wails of his posse behind him. Jean tries to stifle a laugh, but after Jung shoots her a glare she tries to cough it off.

“Lift your head, Jargon!” Jung reaches down and pulls Jargon up by the collar “all of you! Enough of this charade. From now on, you will no longer cause the Madame any more trouble, you hear me? Whatever deeds you might’ve committed in my absence, I will make you all repay back tenfold with sweat and blood!”

“C-captain?” Jargon whimpers as he tries to keep himself balanced. But Jung ignores him and continues down the connector—most already got up as ordered and lined the walls to give them space— “c-captain?!”

As the two of them nears the entrance to the Wulfhere, Jung stops and steers around. “Listen up!” Jung shouts “years ago, as many of you are aware—I walked out of the mafia to be a reborn man. I lived my life neck-deep side by side with you lot—through the thick of it all in the pleasure-seeking path of notoriety. And I had enough of it!

“I couldn’t handle another day being cooped up in this wretched sorry piece of shit that bears the notorious name of Wulfhere… I return from beyond the grave now not because I desired to—but because destiny dug me out by force. This upcoming battle will be unlike anything we’ve ever done before… the Madame Scarface will be departing for Valspon—leaving me in charge of an equally sorry sack of shit force against an armada numbering over two thousand! And I intend to keep my word to the Madame, and by extent, all of you will too.

“From this moment onward… the curtain is about to rise on a new act… a second act in which I guarantee there’s no God.

“From hereon… if you wish to bow out now…” Jung shouts, and sternly points past the cadre towards the shuttle doors “NOW is your chance… a life away from the Mafia—a life away from it all! To serve alongside your brethren, or abandon your brothers. No one will think twice of your actions—but I only ask of this: will you regret it for years to come, or will you partake in a battle that will change the Mafia forever?!”

When Jung finishes, he takes several deep breaths and examines the cadre closely.

Not a soul moves. Not one budges.

Except for one. But it’s not a step backward towards the shuttle. It’s toward Jung. Jargon.

“Captain…” he stammers, shaking his head, “nobody in their right minds will leave—” more steps forward “we’re here to fight—and we will all fight with you!” He shouts back, joined by agreeing shouts and grunts.

Jung grins. “You battle-crazy lunatics! That’s what I like to hear. Come! We have much work to accomplish!”