Episode 105, Alias
19 Sep 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Episode 105, Alias
Lemmy’s Rock in the HIP 96456 system
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Tzafrir joined Ryuko, running lesser conflict zones in Ryujo’s Krait Mk II, with Tzafrir piloting the Taipan ship-launched fighter. The risk was minimal, but both men were fulfilling their own separate purposes for being there. After each sortie, Ryuko would land at a facility run by one of the system’s minor factions, turning in their combat bonds while listening to the station chatter.
Clair Dock, the system’s main starport, was operated by a local progressive group. They had tried multiple times over the years to gain control of the system, but every attempt was met with crushing defeat. They’d held power twice but had never lasted long. Their policies had a way of irritating everyone in the region, and the local dredging union was still finding pieces of their lackeys scattered across the system’s moons.
Offut Dock was different. It was a civilian outpost run by a newer minor faction from outside the region, one that was climbing up the ladder faster than anyone had expected. They were ambitious but without the regional experience of the older factions. The place was a quagmire of shifting allegiances. There were always scars on the bootheels of those operating in the Pegasi sector—backstabbing was practically a cultural tradition. Even the democratic and confederate systems engaged in it as a necessary survival trait.
Ryuko didn’t mind taking Black Omega’s combat bonds. After every other sortie into the conflict zone, he’d turn around and use their credits to buy Tritium from their rivals, stocking his fleet carrier’s reserves. It was easier than mining it, and it had a certain poetic satisfaction—taking Omega’s credits and using them to support their enemies. It was a win-win for him while fulfilling his debt of honor.
Tzafrir was quieter than usual, his calm presence a contrast to the tension of the battlefield. Ryuko knew Tzafrir’s mind was always ticking, calculating several steps ahead, even while they engaged in combat.
As Ryuko docked the Krait Mk II at Clair Dock, turning in their combat bonds, Tzafrir leaned back in the co-pilot’s seat, his voice laced with his usual pragmatism. “You’re taking their credits now, but what happens when they’re gone? The game never stops, Ryuko.”
Ryuko smirked, leaning back in his pilot’s seat. “Let me enjoy the win today. I’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
Tzafrir’s chuckle was dry and measured. “You know, Gary’s not the real problem. He’s just a relic of the past. There’s always another faction ready to take their place, another deal waiting in the shadows.”
Ryuko glanced at the flashing lights of the starport, watching as the dockworkers moved about with their tasks, oblivious to the power plays happening above their heads. “I’m not here to solve their problems. Just settling my own debts.”
Tzafrir nodded in understanding of Ryuko’s thoughts, he had shared them before. “Debts don’t end, Ryuko. You know that better than anyone.”
Ryuko didn’t respond, knowing Tzafrir was right. But for now, there was satisfaction in watching the system’s power brokers scramble, unaware that Ryuko was quietly pulling at the threads, weakening them from within.
Tzafrir noticed a dockworker suddenly break into a celebratory jig, soon followed by another, then another. He chuckled, the oddness of the scene catching his eye. “Well, that’s an odd little happy dance,” he said with amusement, glancing toward Ryuko, who was focused on entering data into the ship’s flight computer.
Ryuko looked up, his eyes following Tzafrir’s gaze. Outside, all human activity had paused, the station workers breaking into spontaneous celebrations. He didn’t need a newsfeed to tell him why. The victory was in the air.
“Simak Landing was their last port,” Ryuko muttered, his voice matter-of-fact as he pulled up the station’s news on the communications panel. The local articles hovered in the air. “Looks like Gary’s retreated to Lichtenberg Bastion with whatever remains of his hierarchy. They don’t have a settlement anymore.”
Tzafrir glanced at the display and then back out at the celebration. "Gary’s feeling that burn now."
Ryuko’s eyes flicked toward the news, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I bet that yellow-orange hair of his is getting singed. Not that I wouldn’t mind setting it on fire myself. Still, I’m not here to scalp him.”
Tzafrir laughed at Ryuko’s casual disdain, knowing full well the depth of Ryuko’s lack of love for Gary Winkler. But they both knew this wasn’t about settling scores—at least not in the way others might think. “No, not here for that,” Tzafrir said, still grinning. “We’ve got other business.”
Ryuko nodded, keeping his eyes on the workers celebrating the downfall of Black Omega. It was a small victory in the grand scheme, but sometimes small victories were enough to shift the tide.
After a few moments, Tzafrir broke the silence again, his voice thoughtful. “You still have that Vulture you flew back in Colonia?”
Ryuko didn’t break his gaze from the scene outside. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good.” Tzafrir leaned forward slightly, brushing invisible dust off the instrument panel. “There’s a fleet carrier passing through in an hour. No association, just passing on their way to the Veils. I’d imagine you know a system along the route that’s a good place to begin.”
Ryuko remained silent, his nod the only acknowledgment. His mind was already working, planning, calculating the next move.
Tzafrir, sensing the shift, leaned back in his seat. “Everything you need—the equipment, the articles—will be with you before you jump ship.” He paused, raising an eyebrow as he added, “Anything you want me to tell Tara?”
Ryuko finally stood, turning to face Tzafrir. His expression was unreadable, but his words were dry, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Tell her to get a new wardrobe... and pack light.”
If there was a word for what she was experiencing, it would be anger. Tara remained standing, her glare sweeping across everyone in the bridge wing office. Captain Akio sat casually in Ryuko’s chair, while Tzafrir and Zaria occupied the nearby couch. Each glanced at the other, the room heavy with unspoken tension.
“So, you’re telling me Ryuko authorized the transfer of his Vulture-class heavy fighter to Clair Dock in the Tjakiri system, then vanished aboard a passing capital ship the moment it arrived?” Tara’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.
Captain Akio hesitated, then looked to Tzafrir, who held Tara’s gaze without flinching. “Yes,” Akio confirmed. “And he instructed Tzafrir to tell you to get a new wardrobe and pack light.”
“For what purpose?” Tara’s voice was tight, her posture rigid, every movement a testament to the barely restrained frustration coursing through her circuits.
Tzafrir shrugged with an ease that contrasted sharply with her tension. “He’s stepping into the role everyone expects—a pirate in the truest sense. Everyone’s on edge, waiting for the other boot to drop, as it were. He’s not just becoming the stereotype, Tara. He’s embodying it. And when he’s done, that image will stick.”
Tara’s eyes darted between them, scanning their expressions, seeking answers that weren’t forthcoming. Captain Akio raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, shaking his head. “Listen, Ms. Sha, all this pirate honor and legacy stuff—I don’t pretend to understand it. I’m part of this ship, I have my orders, and I follow them.”
Zaria leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her tone thoughtful. “He’s assuming a persona, one from the past. He’s going to leave a mark with it before he lets it fade like smoke into the void.”
Tara’s neurological matrix buzzed with the effort of processing the implications. She had downloaded and studied countless volumes of information on honor, duty, and identity. Ryuko’s first name alone came from a lineage steeped in those very concepts. But this… this was something different, something that twisted those ideals into something both foreign and unsettling.
A sudden beep broke the stillness. Tzafrir reached into the side pocket of his suit, pulling out a data tablet. His expression shifted subtly, a flicker of something—satisfaction, perhaps—crossing his face.
“Ah, it’s begun,” he murmured, holding up the tablet for Tara to see. She stepped closer, her eyes locking onto the screen. It displayed a still image from a security camera: a figure, their face, and form obscured by a suit and a reflective helmet visor, standing in a shadowed corridor.
Tara’s sensors picked up minute details—the posture, the build, the way the figure stood, poised and controlled. It was Ryuko, or rather, the Ryuko he was becoming. A ghost from the past, cloaked in anonymity, stepping out into the light with a purpose she could only begin to guess at.
“Who is he pretending to be?” she asked quietly, the question almost rhetorical.
Tzafrir’s smile was enigmatic, his eyes gleaming with a light that spoke of plans within plans. “A shadow that everyone thought was long gone. A pirate whose name was once whispered with fear. He’s bringing it back, but not to stay. Just long enough to remind them—and then, like smoke, he’ll let it disappear.”
Tara’s processors whirred, calculating and recalibrating. This wasn’t just about settling scores or fulfilling debts. This was strategy, theater, and manipulation all rolled into one. And yet, despite the logic behind it, she couldn’t shake the unease simmering beneath her surface.
“Do you trust him?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Tzafrir’s gaze was steady, his answer immediate. “I trust his purpose. And I trust that he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
Tara’s gaze returned to the screen, to the ghostly figure whose identity was hidden even as his intent was laid bare. She didn’t need to ask if he was safe, or if this path was wise. Those questions no longer mattered. Ryuko was committed, and now she had to decide whether to follow him into the storm he was so carefully brewing.
A storm that was only just beginning to form on the horizon, its dark clouds gathering, promising to leave nothing untouched in its wake.
