Episode 117, Both Ends
16 Oct 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Episode 117, Both Ends
Pegasi Region
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By the first day of their operation, Ryuko had switched ships, leaving Tara and Ceri in command of the Python while he took out his Vulture heavy fighter. Ceri, beginning to grasp the plan, understood why Ryuko had chosen to work indirectly with the opposition. He wasn't just targeting their ships—he was orchestrating something larger. In the neighboring systems, Ryuko would track down and interdict wanted ships belonging to their rivals. His objective wasn’t just destruction; he was laying traps. Once he had engaged and occupied the opposition, Tara and Ceri would swoop in with the Python, catching them off-guard and delivering the finishing blow.
Meanwhile, Meredith quietly played his part, ferrying business clientele between systems, earning credits through passenger transports from rival factions. His work was low-key but essential: moving representatives, politicians, and prisoners alike to a penal colony on a nearby moon. While Meredith ran legitimate missions, the Coteries interjected themselves more aggressively, intercepting ships carrying high-value prisoners—particularly those connected to the faction Ryuko was subtly undermining.
At first, Ceri couldn’t fully grasp the operation’s scope. It seemed random and chaotic. But after three days, the patterns began to emerge—Ryuko’s true strategy started to take form. He was corralling the target faction, allowing them to appear strong within their own system while choking off their influence elsewhere. By striking at ships outside their borders, Ryuko was both strengthening and undermining them, forcing them to consolidate resources internally.
Rumors had already begun circulating in the starports where they turned in bounties—whispers of how the faction struggled to maintain control, sustained only by unseen benefactors. In other ports, the gossip painted a picture of a crippled faction, dependent on external aid, incapable of standing on its own. What was once seen as a powerhouse had become a hollow shell. Even within their home system, murmurs of their incompetence spread—how an unknown pirate leader was slicing through their assets, leaving them barely functional, yet holding them together just enough to stand, a fractured image of their former selves.
Ryuko’s plan wasn’t just about causing physical damage. It was about orchestrating the perception of their leadership as corrupt and inept. They had once wielded arrogance and greed, but now, their own past sins were coming back to haunt them. Every choice they made was scrutinized, every sign of weakness magnified. The true humiliation wasn’t in their collapse—it was in their rise. They were propped up by forces beyond their control, fed by desperation, and dependent on the very hands they once scorned.
Ryuko savored every morsel of the rumors that spread—watching the faction that had once caused the split in his own ranks devour itself from within. As their star rose again, it did so only to illuminate their weaknesses, exposing them for all to see. Each whispered conspiracy, each hushed tale of incompetence, was another step toward their eventual fall. And Ryuko would ensure that their rise, as triumphant as it may seem, would be hollow—filled with hungry mouths and biting teeth, all eager to tear them apart.
Type-8 Transport
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By the end of the first week, Ceri was sent back to Meredith’s ship, resuming her role as Boatswain mate to learn more about the legitimate side of business. The shift in duties unsettled her. Though she now understood the overarching plan and its effects, the deeper "why" behind Ryuko's scheme still eluded her. As she boarded Meredith's vessel in a nearby uninhabited system, Aby was waiting for her, his presence both familiar and disconcerting.
Meredith, on the other hand, was enjoying a rare day off, taking time to rest and recover from the excitement of the previous week. Ashlyn, eager and wide-eyed, greeted Ceri with enthusiasm, happy to see her once again. The warmth was genuine, but Ceri couldn’t comprehend why.
Innocence. The word gnawed at her. It was something her prey possessed—an exploitable weakness. To her, it wasn’t a trait to admire, but one to be avoided. Innocence meant vulnerability. It was fragile and fleeting, something that would either burn away, be molded into something hard and unyielding like herself, or worse, be consumed completely.
Ceri eyed Ashlyn, and for a brief moment, something stirred within her—an emotion she couldn’t quite name. It settled like a pit of panic deep in her chest. She had lost the luxury of innocence long ago, beaten and abused until all traces of it were gone. In the world she had known, innocence wasn’t a gift; it was a liability, a mark of weakness that could be exploited or extinguished. The girl’s wide-eyed joy was disarming, and it made Ceri uneasy in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
Everyone had a past, and Meredith was no different. His choice to work legitimately was just that—a choice. With Ashlyn to look after, illegalities were non-negotiable. He had seen too much, and been through too much to risk the life they had built. Compassion and empathy were his anchors now, the same traits that made him patient in moments like these. He recognized Ceri’s subtle reaction—the flicker in her eyes, the tension in her frame—but he made no outward emotional expression.
“Are you done with today’s studies?” Meredith asked, his voice easy but attentive.
Ashlyn scrunched up her face, caught between guilt and playful defiance. Her response—or lack thereof—was answer enough.
Meredith chuckled, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He gave her a pointed but soft look. “I take that as a no.”
Ashlyn shifted on her feet, but Meredith’s tone stayed gentle. “There’ll be time to catch up later. We’re not going anywhere today.”
Ceri stood frozen, watching the quiet exchange between Meredith and his daughter, Ashlyn. It felt strange—alien, even—this casual, familial warmth. It tugged at something buried deep within her, something she hadn’t felt in so long that it almost startled her. But whatever it was, she couldn’t touch it yet. Not now.
“Go along now,” Meredith said, flashing Ashlyn a warm, patient grin. “I’ll have the master chef droid whip up something good, and you can show us what you’ve been working on. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
Ashlyn made a playful pout before grinning and darting off down the corridor, her youthful energy leaving behind a faint echo of giggles.
Meredith shook his head, still smiling, before turning his attention to Ceri. “She’s young, but she’s got a good grasp of the business. Halfway decent pilot, too,” he added with a note of pride. “She’ll make a good commander one day when she’s old enough.”
Ceri shifted her weight, still feeling the lingering unease inside her. “Commander?” she asked her voice soft but with a trace of skepticism.
Meredith gave a slight nod, the smile never quite leaving his face. “She’s got the makings of one. It’s not just about skill—it’s about knowing how to make choices. She’s learning, but she’s sharp.”
Ceri absorbed his words but found herself stuck on the idea of Ashlyn being molded into a commander. The life of command, of strategy and responsibility, seemed like something different from what she had known. In her world, there was no room for nurturing futures like this—there was only survival.
“She’s lucky,” Ceri said after a moment, her tone quieter, more thoughtful than she intended.
Meredith gave her a knowing look. “Luck’s only part of it. The rest is choices.” He paused, before turning on his heel and departing down the corridor. He knew she had her own struggles she needed to deal with, and that lingering was counterproductive.
Ceri watched him depart, with his last words hanging in the air. She reached down and grabbed her duffel bag, looking at Aby, who was staring at her with his creepy doll-like android eyes.