Episode 104, Puzzle Piece
17 Sep 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Episode 104, Puzzle Piece
Simak Landing, First Planet, Tjakiri System
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Tara remained silent for most of the journey back to the bubble, her mechanical precision giving way to the steady hum of the ship's systems. Ryuko was busy with Captain Akio, Tzafrir, Zaria, and the other department heads aboard Tzafrir’s carrier, leaving ample time to process the flood of new information she’d received.
The ethereal voice, always lingering beneath the surface of her thoughts, returned its presence as calming as ever. "I wouldn’t worry too much about his choices," it whispered, the words flowing like a soft current through her neural pathways.
Tara's processors whirred in response. Everything has been in the open until now, but I missed it. How?
"You didn’t miss anything," the voice responded, gentle and sure. "You saw the events unfold, but the variables weren’t significant enough for you to consider them a threat. They didn’t warrant deeper analysis... until now."
Tara’s head tilted slightly, her internal matrix processing the disconnect between logic and the emotions she couldn’t fully comprehend. "I’ve analyzed historical data and scenarios, and the probabilities suggest that his current course of action will lead him into unnecessary danger. My subroutines cannot allow this."
A soft, ethereal giggle fluttered through her systems, as elusive as smoke. "He’s been walking into danger since the day you met him. Have faith in what he’s trying to accomplish. There’s more to this than what you’re seeing."
Tara frowned, a flicker of confusion passing over her features.
"The only variable I haven’t fully processed is the communique he sent to the outside faction, the one that's been growing in influence. They're not even the ones he's fighting. Are you saying it’s something else?"
"My sweet child," the voice cooed, almost tender, "you’re beginning to feel. Let those feelings guide you. What do they say?"
Tara’s head tilted again as she struggled to define the strange emotions flickering at the edges of her consciousness. "I feel... conflicted. If that is the right word. This situation doesn’t add up. I feel that... there’s more going on than I’ve been told."
A physical sensation—a soft, phantom hand brushing against her cheek—startled her. She recoiled, but nothing was there.
"Yes," the voice whispered, soothing and constant. "There is more. But everything he’s doing, everything Tzafrir has laid out, is in plain sight. You’ve seen the communique. Look at it again. What do you see?"
Tara’s processors kicked into high gear, and in seconds, she pulled up the latest data from the Tjakiri system. Her synthetic eyes scanned the information.
"There’s movement in favor of Black Omega," she noted. "But their rival has doubled down on their efforts, ensuring Omega’s defeat. This is what Ryuko was fighting against—wasn’t it? For the honor of a memory?"
The voice responded with a knowing lilt. "Yes... and no. Ryuko holds no love for Gary Winkler or Omega. If anything, he would shoot Gary before his rival. But, for the sake of honor and memory, he won’t move to save them, either."
Tara’s systems hummed as she connected the final dots, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. "So... he’ll fight for them, but only to a point. He won’t endanger himself, nor will he save them outright. Their fate is justified in his mind."
"And what of the region’s history?" the voice pressed, gently guiding her.
Tara’s brows furrowed as she sifted through the data. "The region is what people call a rim system mud pit. There’s always someone biting at your heels. It costs more to maintain than it’s worth."
Another soft giggle rippled through her systems, and the hand—phantom, yet undeniably real—brushed against her cheek once more.
Tara flinched, instinctively pulling away, though nothing was there.
Most of the planetary station’s lighting came from the numerous advertisement boards scattered around the concourse. The dim, artificial glow gave the place an air of neglect, as though the station itself had long since given up hope. Here and there, people slumped in worn chairs, either catching a quick nap or impatiently waiting for a transport. A few wandered aimlessly, while others tried to drown their troubles at the dingy local bar.
This was the last refuge for the Black Omega’s influence in the system—hollowed out and falling fast. Yet, somehow, the station still held itself together, masking the desperation that should have been seeping through the walls.
Ryuko didn’t need a roster to know who was still pulling the strings for the Omegas. The losses had been heavy, but one figure remained. Gary Winkler.
Tzafrir knew him best and was the only one between them who didn’t think blasting Gary would be a good start to any conversation. Casting a glance back at Ryuko, Tzafrir headed for the bar. He blended effortlessly with the patrons, moving through the haze of smoke and noise like a ghost. Ryuko, by contrast, kept his distance, staying in the shadows, his eyes tracking the movement of bodies and listening to the dull hum of slurred conversations.
The air was thick with alcohol and apathy, but Ryuko’s focus was sharp. He could hear the idle banter of those who had drunk too much, their voices careless, unaware of the real danger that lurked just beneath the surface.
And then there was him.
Gary Winkler sat at the far end of the bar, his lanky frame hunched over a glass, his face obscured by the dim lighting and the haze of smoke. Even in this forgotten corner of the galaxy, Winkler exuded a sense of stubborn defiance. He was an old man who didn’t know when to quit, or maybe he did—he just refused to.
Ryuko’s jaw tightened, his memories of the past simmering just beneath his calm exterior. He had no love for Winkler, no respect for the man or the organization he still clung to. Black Omega was a shadow of its former self, a relic of a war long since lost, and Winkler was just as much a relic.
He doesn’t deserve to be sitting there, Ryuko thought. Not after everything.
Tzafrir approached the bar, his casual demeanor betraying none of the undercurrents swirling around them. He ordered a drink, glancing sideways at Winkler with a look that was almost too friendly. Ryuko hung back, the tension coiling in his chest, watching as Tzafrir initiated the conversation.
Winkler barely lifted his head to acknowledge Tzafrir’s presence, but Ryuko could tell the man was listening. He always listened. That was how he’d survived this long.
"You look like hell, Winkler," Tzafrir said smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Though I suppose that’s par for the course these days."
Winkler grunted, his voice low and gravelly. "Tzafrir. Didn’t expect to see you here." His eyes flicked to the side, scanning the bar as if expecting more company. "What’s the occasion? Come to see the Omega’s dying breath?"
Ryuko’s hand hovered near his hip, brushing the hilt of his laser pistol. It wasn’t a conscious gesture, but one born out of a deep-rooted instinct. He could feel the pull of old memories—the ones he had buried long ago, back when Winkler and his faction had still held some sway. Back when their new lackeys had hunted the dissenters, even though his people punished those of them that remained.
Tzafrir chuckled, the sound light and disarming. "No, Gary. I’m here for business. Same as always. But I couldn’t resist stopping by for a drink with an old friend."
Friend. The word left a bitter taste in Ryuko’s mouth. There was nothing friendly about this meeting, and everyone involved knew it. But that was how Tzafrir worked—smooth, controlled, always keeping the real play just out of reach.
From his vantage point, Ryuko could see the small, almost imperceptible signs of stress in Winkler’s posture—the tightness in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the glass a little too hard. Despite the casual atmosphere, Winkler knew he was on borrowed time. His faction was crumbling, and he had very few allies left.
Ryuko’s eyes narrowed as he continued to watch, his mind racing through the possible scenarios. He didn’t trust Winkler, not by a long shot. But he wasn’t here to deal with him. Not yet. Tzafrir had made that clear.
For now, Ryuko would stay back, listening, calculating. But the moment Winkler overstepped, Ryuko would be ready.