June 29th, 2486 - the Imperial Flagship ‘The Phoenix’

The gym was deserted, and for just a moment, utterly silent. The silence was shattered by a violent, weighty thump, as Olivia Mar Kolla’s fist collided with a punching bag. Sweat dripped from her brow, and she wiped it away with the back of a bandaged hand, before tensing her abdominal muscles and letting fly a series of quick, viscous punches. The punching bag buckled and strained under the weight of each blow.

‘Think fast!’ a man’s baritone hissed from the other side of the room.

Olivia spun, instinctively, and caught an arrow mid-flight. The tip hovered inches away from the punching bag’s battered and sweat-drenched surface. It wouldn’t have hit her; that was a testament to the archer’s skill. The archer stood, legs apart in a powerful stance, and gently lowered the compact bow. He wore a white uniform, accented with red, the right breast of which was decorated with at least a dozen accolades.

‘That was too close’, Oliva gasped, catching her breath. ‘If I didn’t already know who you were, I would have considered that an attack.’

‘Who’s to say it wasn’t?’ The archer replied, easing out of his rigid stance and letting his bow rest at his side.

‘You’re trying to tell me to be wary—to trust no-one, to always be vigilant … but you’re the head of security aboard this ship, Akira Choganta. If I can’t trust you, I can’t trust anyone.’

The archer, Akira Choganta, smirked nastily.

‘Shouldn’t you be guarding our little princess, Miss Mar Kolla?’ he asked.

‘Agent … Gorkanja … is with the Princess in her room’, Olivia grimaced. ‘Only one protection agent is required when the Princess is alone, due to how heavily guarded the hallways leading to said room are… and you should already know that, since you hired and vetted each of those guards.’

‘Spite makes you wary, Olivia’, Akira replied. ‘Do you feel spite towards Agent Gorkanja?’

Olivia stuttered. She didn’t answer right away—she couldn’t. A nervous lump had formed in her throat. Before she could answer, Akira chuckled, dryly, and turned on his heel.

‘Come to me if you need anything at all, Agent Mar Kolla’, he said, sliding the bow back onto a rack of training weapons. ‘I sense great potential in you. You should trust me.’

The automatic door whistled shut, and Olivia was once again alone in the gym. The punching bag creaked, and fell to the floor.

Date Unknown, Location Unknown

Abiona’s eyelids fluttered open. She was sweating, heavily, her ears filling with the overwhelming sounds of birdsong, and the chatter of alien insects.

‘You up?’

She sat upright, searching for the source of the voice—as she did; she felt a sharp, stabbing pain run across her back. She felt herself shiver, and pulled the bed clothes tightly around herself.

‘Careful—you got hit in the back by a crate of cheese on the way down.’ The familiar voice said.

‘Cheese?’ Abiona asked for clarity’s sake.

‘Good stuff too, from the Ashfield Province on Goldagar’, the voice replied.

Ichiro reclined in a hammock across from Abiona, a half-eaten bar of authentic Ashfield cheese resting on the few scraps of clothing that still covered his diligently chiselled abdomen.

‘What are you staring at?’ Ichiro asked with concern.

‘N—nothing, just—the cheese. Seems a bit insensitive’, Abiona replied, turning her face away to hide a steadily growing blush.

They were in a ramshackle dwelling, no more than fifteen feet wide and far more rustic than cosy; the bed on which she lay was probably the only one in the house, since the kitchen was two feet to her right and there was only one door in the whole building. The bed was sturdy at least, constructed from animal furs and enormous mangrove roots.

‘Ichiro … where are we?’ Abiona asked, clutching her forehead which had begun to throb nastily.

‘According to the guy who brought us here, we’re on Bungirba, in the middle of the Kongabaar Jungle. You’ve been out since yesterday.’

‘Why … what happened, Ichiro?’

‘You launched a delivery ship into a small planetoid, what do you think happened? Those things aren’t built to withstand atmospheric pressure, so it exploded. You lost consciousness, I dragged you into a closet and we barely survived the landing … if you want to call it a landing.’

‘Sorry about that’, Abiona said, grinning guiltily.

For a moment, Ichiro was deathly quiet. He sat up, carefully; grimacing from some injury sustained during the crash and stared Abiona directly in the eyes. She shifted uncomfortably under his glare.

‘Abiona’, he began, his voice low and serious. ‘The guy who saved us has offered to take us to the nearest town. The adventure is over. We are going to walk into town, find a phone capable of inter-planetary communication, and then I’m going to bring you home. You’re going to tell your father that I saved your life, and that I deserve to keep my job, I’m going to get my big, fat pension and I’m going to retire to Goldagar at the age of fifty-five and eat expensive Ashfield cheese until I die. Do we have an understanding?’

‘I’m not going home!’ Abiona hissed, doubling over in pain. She saw Ichiro extend a hand and she pushed him away in annoyance. ‘I can’t go back…’

‘Why the hell not!?’ Ichiro asked, raising his voice slightly. ‘How can you be so selfish? Sure, I could care less what happens to Olivia, but shouldn’t you have some sympathy for the people who serve you, considering you’re going to be their ruler sooner rather than later?’

Abiona’s brow furrowed furiously and she spat, ‘This is my life, not yours, and I’m going to live it however the hell I please!’

Ichiro sighed, shaking his head, and reclined back into the hammock. They sat in silence, but not for long. There was a knock at the door, very low down… it creaked open, and in the doorway stood a man with rabbit-like ears, long, golden hair and crimson eyes. From the ears alone, she instantly recognised him as a Bungirban native; they often served in low paying or high risk jobs aboard The Phoenix. He wore a grey tank top and simple black trousers. Abiona gasped. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help herself. With all the technology readily available on the Imperial Flagship, she had never seen something like this before. From the shoulder downwards, the man in the doorway was missing both of his arms.

July 2nd, 2486 - the Imperial Flagship ‘The Phoenix’ - Level 6 Cafeteria

‘So ... You lost the heir to the throne of the Wulver Empire. Well done.’ Akira Choganta said, his dangerous baritone dripping with sarcasm. ‘All the pouting in the world won’t save you now.’

Olivia Mar Kolla sat with her hands clenched tightly in her lap, in the busy cafeteria aboard The Phoenix. In this situation, Akira Choganta was the only person she felt she could turn to. As soon as she had told him that there was an urgent breach of security, he took her directly to a secluded corner of the nearest cafeteria, somewhere that, ironically, they could be sure no one was listening. He ran a hand through his short, carefully maintained beard thoughtfully.

‘Do you have a plan?’ he asked.

Olivia’s bright blue eyes widened and she tapped her fingers on the exposed skin of her thigh anxiously. She wasn’t used to wearing civilian clothing during the day. She adjusted the hem of her skirt, thinking carefully.

Measuring her words, Olivia said, ‘We should be able to track that delivery ship’s black box … it’ll be registered at that checkpoint up on Dock 20M … that portly man with the moustache, Jon Kah Larga, can help us with that. Once we’ve figure out where he’s—I mean, where she’s gone, we can use your personal cruiser to track her down.’

‘Hey.’ Akira said, the bun of curly black hair at the back of his head bobbing as he leaned closer to her. ‘We’ve talked about this. Don’t let that peasant intimidate you. Focus on the princess. That’s a very reasonable plan you’ve come up with … we’ll leave now, tell no-one and be back with the Princess before anyone notices.’

‘O … okay. You’re right. You’re right. Let’s do this.’

Akira Choganta grinned venomously, but Olivia knew he meant well. He was world weary and battle hardened, and it showed on his face. Beneath the thin vale of sarcasm and grit she was sure there was a genuinely kind man, and one of the few who had helped Olivia to settle in on the daunting Imperial Flagship. She was confident that together they would accomplish their task.

July 3rd, 2486 - Planet Bungirba, The Kongabaar Jungle - Ramshackle Dwelling

‘Are you ready to leave?’ The crimson-eyed Bungirban asked. He was gruff, his tone almost unpleasant, his words muffled by a thick, dirty-blonde beard.

‘With pleasure’, Ichiro said, and he wobbled to his feet.

‘Like I said yesterday, you’ll throw your back out trying to carry the small one to Raven’s Crater.’ The Bungirban said with a sigh.

‘The small one can walk on her own!’ Abiona growled, pulling herself from the bed.

She almost fell, barely catching herself on a protruding section of mangrove root. Ichiro couldn’t help but smirk. The Bungirban’s crimson eyes flashed with something akin to surprise.

‘Are you sure, small one?’ he asked, completely earnestly.

‘I said I can walk on my own!’

Abiona struggled to her feet, and stood shakily yet defiantly on the creaky floorboards. She was not going to lose face in front of the first stranger she’d met away from The Phoenix.

‘I respect your determination, but please save your strength, small one… we’ll set out as soon as you’re dressed.’ The Bungirban said.

Abiona felt a shiver run down her spine. Reluctantly, she looked down. Her military shirt was very nearly in worst condition than Ichiro’s. She coughed, and blushing deeply, slid quickly back under the bedclothes.

‘Ichiro...?’

‘…Had to check your body for injuries. Wouldn’t have found that bruise on your back otherwise—’

‘Both of you … Get out. Now.’

‘There is a change of clothes on the bedside table, we will wait outside’, the Bungirban said, and quietly slipped out of the house, Ichiro following close behind.

*

Ichiro stripped off what little remained of his military shirt and began to gingerly pull the bright green and violet Bungirban garb over his head. The heat was almost unbearable outside, and Ichiro would have gone shirtless if not for the Bungirban’s warning about mosquitoes, and other, much more dangerous creatures. They stood outside the ramshackle dwelling, with its mangrove root foundation and roof thatched with reeds and enormous leaves, carved into the side of a gigantic old tree. Surely the Bungirban couldn’t have built this alone in his condition? The jungle was alive with the cries of alien birds, and the constant croaking and shrill squawks of creatures burrowing in the undergrowth. The light of early morning poured between the few gaps left by the enormous leafy canopy above, bathing the clearing around the dwelling in pale light. Suddenly, the Bungirban tossed his golden locks, his gaze fixing on a point in the middle distance. The crimson eyes darted around the underbrush, from shrub to shrub, ears twitching nervously.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ichiro hissed.

‘Both you and the small one were bleeding when you arrived… something has finally caught the scent.’

The birds cried. The creatures in the underbrush croaked and squawked. Then, all noise ceased. Everything was silent for a moment, until—a small tree ruptured, showering the two men in splinters. Leaves fluttered and sparkled in the pale light, blasted across the clearing by the sudden eruption. A creature slumped into the clearing, opening its mighty, crocodilian jaws, and bellowing aggressively.

‘An Alcorna—tall one, get inside now!’

Ichiro didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt back, stumbling on the doorstep and throwing himself through the door. Abiona shrieked, pulling on her shirt with impressive speed. Ichiro stared out of the window, placing himself firmly and quite unconsciously between the entrance to the dwelling and Abiona. The huge Alcorna bellowed, almost standing on its tree-truck-like hind legs. Its scaly forearms rose up, then flew toward the Bungirban in a mighty punch.

‘Look out!’ Ichiro screamed.

The Bungirban moved so quickly that if Ichiro had blinked he might have missed what followed. The crimson eyes flashed, the golden locks spun, the body dropped. Through the thin, ripped material of his black trousers, musculature bulged; one leg fell into a crouch, the other rose in a flash. The kick shook the earth, flattening small plants nearby and forcing Ichiro back from the window. The Alcorna rose several feet into the air, rolled in mid-flight and then collapsed, crumpling to the ground with a deafening thud.

Ichiro turned, very slowly, to confirm with Abiona that he wasn’t losing his mind. The look she gave him was one of absolute shock, more or less confirming his belief; the Bungirban had just kicked a monster several times his size to death. The door creaked open, and the Bungirban stood in the doorway, utterly unphased.

‘What are you?’ Ichiro asked, his voice quivering.

‘So you really aren’t from around here’, the Bungirban replied, his crimson eyes flashing in the darkness of the doorway. ‘Everyone knows Angora the Traitor’.