July 5th, 2486 - Imperial Cruiser, ‘The Masamune’

Abiona awoke with a smile. She touched the corners of her mouth, as if to confirm that the smile was there, and that she wasn’t still dreaming. She was free. The Masamune was a gorgeous piece of Imperial technology; outside, a sleek, silver and black design, with milky-white walls and reflective, inky-black floors inside. The ship was just large enough to accommodate a recreational room with a full-wall holographic display on the starboard side, and two bedrooms on the port side. The boys were forced to share, leaving Abiona with an entire bedroom to herself. It was surprisingly spacious, equipped with a double bed and a decently sized wardrobe. Abiona made it a point to rifle through the closet in search of clothes, before heading to the ship’s singular bathroom. She found a few sets of hastily packed female civilian clothing—which she guessed belonged to Olivia. She sighed, unimpressed by the selection. Finally settling on an outfit, she exited the room and made for the showers.

*

Ichiro awoke, and was filled with the overwhelming desire to scream. He stumbled from the bed, catching sight of his dishevelled hair and rapidly growing stubble in the full-length mirror across from the bed. He felt the desire to scream gain greater power, and released some of the tension by violently thumping the desk to his right. The pay check was gone. The pension was gone. The retirement home on Goldagar was more elusive than snowfall in the Kongabaar jungle. He tore a shirt and trousers from Akira’s cupboard and stormed out of the bedroom.

*

Angora heard them collide from his seat in the cockpit.

‘You’ve ruined my life—the least you can do is let me shower first! Oh, or what, you gonna’ take that from me too!?’ the tall one yelled from the end of the hallway.

Angora decided that it would be best if he did not intervene. Unfortunately, problems were coming his way whether he liked it or not. The small one entered the cockpit in a very revealing floral bathrobe, which was clearly too big for her, as it dragged on the floor as she walked. The tall one came in next, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a foul expression on his face.

‘Angora, help me out here—Ichiro’s being unreasonable!’ the small one pleaded. ‘He walks around shirtless half the time anyway, it’s not like he cares about looking presentable!’

‘Oooohh, no! No, don’t take that stance with me—you’ll spend ninety minutes in there getting ready, I know because Olivia timed you once and told me about it!’ the tall one growled back.

‘Just watch a movie in the rec room or something while you wait.’

‘I need to pee, and I want to brush my teeth—now, not in ninety minutes Abiona!’

‘Well, maybe Angora wants the shower first, ever thought of that!? When was the last time you got a nice, hot shower Angora?’

‘Well … I’ve been washing in rivers since the end of the war, so it’s been… at least fifty years.’ Angora replied.

They both stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment.

‘Bungirbans are long lived’, Angora elaborated, missing the point entirely.

‘Ichiro gets to visit the little boys room and brush his teeth, then I brush my teeth, then Angora’s showering for the first time in five decades—no ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’ about it.’ Abiona insisted, her eyes glued with mild revulsion to Angora’s matted, blonde beard. ‘Consider giving yourself a trim while you’re at it, okay?’

Angora could tell that she regretted her words immediately. He was used to the pity, and didn’t blame her for the mistake; it was better than outright hatred any day. Suddenly, the small one’s eyes lit up. She ordered Angora to wait where he was and for the tall one to follow her, and they disappeared into the back of the ship. After a few minutes, they returned. The small one practically bounced over to Angora, depositing an elongated black box into his lap.

‘What’s this?’ Angora asked, curious.

‘A present for saving our lives twice back on Bungirba’, she said with a grin. ‘They’ve always got one or two lying around on Imperial Cruisers, in case of emergency.’

Carefully, she opened the box. Angora’s eyes widened with surprise at what lay inside. He was rendered utterly speechless. The procedure was simple; the small one attached a metal socket to Angora’s arm, which clamped tight to his skin and stung a little, secured by black straps over and around the shoulder. The prosthetic arm slipped easily into the socket, audibly clicking into place. He felt it immediately—a jolt in the nerves of his shoulder, as the fingers on his new left arm began to flex slowly. There was no sensation in the hand itself, and he felt nauseous from the shock of watching the thing move according to his will.

‘It’ll take a few minutes to get used to—I’ve done this for my brother before, he had an accident involving a ski slope and a long vertical drop when he was younger. You should have full mobility back by the time we’re done brushing our teeth’, the small one sighed. ‘Pity they only had a left on board… we’ll look for a right whenever we land.’

‘... Only a few minutes’, Angora said, his voice quiet. ‘I don’t… I don’t understand…’

‘There’s nothing to understand’, the small one insisted with a smile. ‘Think of it as a favour from a friend.’

July 5th, 2486 - Planet Bungirba, Raven’s Crater - Bungirba Spaceport

Olivia’s skull throbbed painfully. She slumped further into the bench, trying to disappear into the corner of the Spaceport, with its thronging crowds of humans desperate to get off-world, and its enormous windows through which streams of light poured, assaulting her senses from every angle. She was still furious, although in a more subdued and thoughtful manner. Akira had explained everything to her when she came to; how Ichiro had hit her upside the head, how the Bungirban had knocked him flat with a single kick, and how together they had made off with the keys to The Masamune, and the princess, dragged kicking and screaming behind them. Olivia watched a holo-screen, suspended above, on which a neatly dressed Haalojan presenter described the events that had taken place in the town below only a few hours ago, to viewers across the galaxy, his green skin glistening with sweat. He was young, and nervous. Olivia knew otherwise, but as far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned, the rebellion had just stepped things up a notch and the threat of a full blown galactic war loomed. How could the princess have been so stupid? She had saved Bungirban lives, but at what cost? Hadn’t she considered the greater good?

An electronic chime sounded from one of the gates to her right, and Olivia looked up to see Akira, wearing his full military uniform, followed by two men and a woman that Olivia did not recognise. Seeing that they were all in military attire, Olivia suddenly felt bashful; she was still dressed in her short skirt and pastel-blue shirt. One of the men reached Olivia before the rest of the group. He walked with a slight limp, almost imperceptible to an untrained eye. When Olivia recognised him she felt her blood run cold. She stood rapidly, bowing to the young man who stood before her. Yared Var Oostabar Gan Kuji, first of his name, Abiona’s brother and the youngest child of the Emperor, grinned from ear to ear.